The Cowboy's City Girl - An Enemies To Lovers Romance

by Emerson Rose

  Brian isn’t thrown; he breezes right over the expletive.

  “Have you had personality changes?”

  “To put it mildly, yes,” Marcus says.

  “Oh? Tell me about it, please. It sounds like maybe you have negative tendencies. How about headaches, visual or olfactory hallucinations?”

  I wonder if he’s been seeing things; he hasn’t mentioned it. And imagining smells? I wonder if that’s what he was experiencing earlier when he asked me if I smelled something unpleasant.

  I’m starting to feel like one of those crazy people who believe they have contracted every disease they study in school.

  “I’d like to see what you have planned, Mr. Carlson, then you can ask questions.”

  Marcus pointedly doesn’t refer to Brian as doctor while taking back control of the conversation. Bravo. I don’t know why but I feel smug. I’m glad he isn’t letting Brian lead which is stupid because he’s the neurosurgeon after all. He’s here to consult on a nearly impossible case. Why can’t I feel more appreciative? It’s not like me at all.

  “Sure, I’d be happy to.” Brian reaches down to a messenger bag on the floor and slides out a large iPad.

  After a few taps on the screen, Brian moves closer to us on the couch, more like closer to me and I feel Marcus tense and squeeze his fingers around my shoulder.

  Brian is just doing it so we can see the screen better and he can explain the technique but it feels uncomfortable. He starts the video and goes about showing us every aspect of the procedure and I’m in awe.

  Not only of his plan to remove the tangled vessel- constricting tumor but with how detailed the images of Marcus’s brain are.

  It takes him a while to summarize everything that the long surgery will entail. Marcus is sitting with his front pressed up against my back and I’ve turned to face Brian on the couch. I can feel Marcus’s heart accelerate while we watch and his breath on my cheek quickens. He’s nervous, and rightly so. This isn’t going to be easy.

  When it’s over, Brian lays the iPad on the coffee table.

  “Any questions for me now that you’ve seen all of that. I know it’s a lot to take in.”

  “Yes, when would you be able to do it?” I say, jumping right in but, instantly, I think I should have let Marcus be the one to start.

  “We have a few tests to run beforehand, but I would recommend getting started as soon as possible. Frankly, I’m surprised you’re as functional as you are, Mr. Castillo. Your tumor is incredibly large. It should be limiting your vision among other things. How is that by the way? When I last spoke to Imani, she said you couldn’t see at all. That’s obviously not the case now. Has it completely returned?”

  Marcus pauses for so long I start to get nervous. I’m about to interject when he responds.

  “It completely returned for a short time, then got considerably worse, now it comes and goes.”

  “Well, like I said, we should do this soon. I have privileges at a hospital in Milan and they have an experienced staff.”

  “How is it that you have privileges in Milan? Long way from home, isn’t it?” Marcus asks.

  “Remember, baby, Dr. Carlson travels for special cases,” I say, reminding him. It’s not like him to forget.

  “Oh yes, of course, that’s right.”

  Maria appears at the living room entrance.

  “Dinner is ready to be served, Mr. Castillo. Would you like me to hold it a bit longer?” she asks.

  “No, Maria. We are done here, you can start now.” I have so much more to say but Marcus is done. He knows the plan and that it needs to be done soon. I think that’s all he can take.

  Dinner goes smoothly at least. The weird feeling I was having about Brian lessens as the mood becomes more social than professional.

  We need to get to know Brian, or at least Marcus does. I’ve known him for years, from the hospital as a physician but never as a friend. Marcus isn’t a trusting man; even minor things have to be scrutinized, and this is about as far from minor as it can be.

  I’m surprised at how much Marcus has to drink. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him have more than a couple of glasses of wine but tonight the three of us have polished off two bottles and Marcus is on his second scotch on the rocks.

  He’s getting drunk and I can’t blame him. It’s been a long stressful day, but he needs to be careful. I can’t imagine what would happen if he had a personality change after all that alcohol.

  I scoot my chair from the table and take his hand.

  “Are you ready for bed?” I ask. Brian’s head snaps up and that weird feeling washes over me again.

  “I don’t mean to be rude, Brian, but it’s been a really long day. I have two little babies who need my attention and Marcus needs to rest. I’m sure you’re worn out after the long trip, aren’t you?”

  Brian’s face flushes red and his mouth drops open. I stifle a giggle. He has no idea my little babies are of the feline persuasion but his reaction confirms what I suspected, he’s interested.

  That’s going to be a problem. Marcus looks up at me glassy eyed and confused.

  “Yes and No. You know the kittens you just gave me today?” Dr. Carlson falls back in his chair, visibly relieved. Thank God Marcus is drunk and didn’t notice that. He can’t know about my suspicion. He will never agree to the surgery if he finds out.

  “Oh yes, the little demons.” There’s a slight slur in his voice, the alcohol is starting to show its effect. “Mmhmm, let’s go see what they’ve been getting into.”

  “You have new pets?” Brian asks, and for some reason I have the urge to yell at him. Maybe it’s because he’s on the verge of fucking up my life.

  But, of course, I don’t. I rub Marcus's arm up and down trying to keep his focus on me.

  “Yes, I’ve always wanted a cat but my mother was allergic when I was little. This wonderful, sweet man surprised me today with not one but two kittens.” I gaze into Marcus's big greens and lay my hand lovingly on his cheek rubbing his rough, way past five o'clock shadow with my thumb. I love this man completely. He is my world, my person, the only one who could ever reach inside my thick protective walls.

  It hurts to love someone this intensely sometimes. Being so dependent on another person for happiness isn’t healthy I know, but it’s too late to go back now.

  Brian coughs as he stands, breaking the spell, on purpose I’m sure.

  “I’ll just head on up to bed then. Thank you for dinner; it was superb. Italian food at its very best.” Well, at least he’s being polite. Even drunk, I think Marcus would have caught on if Brian objected to ending our evening.

  “Of course, I own the best restaurants in the country, hell, in the world!” Okay, time to get out of here, that was too enthusiastic for my stern, controlled man. I’m not about to let him make a fool of himself in front of Brian.

  “Yes, you do, baby. Come on, let’s get going.” I pull his hand and he gets to his feet easily enough but holds onto the table for support.

  “Damn eyes,” he says mostly to himself, blaming his tipsiness on his vision.

  “Good night.” I call over my shoulder.

  “Good night, Imani. You too, Marcus.” Marcus makes a sad attempt at a wave over his head in Brian’s direction. I hold onto his other arm as we leave the dining room. Linking arms isn’t something we usually do, but Brian doesn’t know that. It’s a sneaky way to help steady Marcus as we walk through the house.

  “Are you OK?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Because you had a lot to drink. I was worried.”

  “What have I told you about worrying, baby? You let me handle all of that shit, just be my perfect little girl.”

  He turns and engulfs me in a tight hug until I can’t breathe. He’s drunker than I thought.

  “Okay, you do the worrying, sorry.” It’s best to pacify him until I can get him to bed.

  “You’re so beautiful. I can’t see very well anymore. I don’t want to ever forget t
his face,” he says, cradling my face in his big hands. He stares into my eyes until he wobbles slightly.

  “Thank you. You’re not so bad yourself. And you’ll be looking at me until I’m old and wrinkled after Dr. Carlson fixes you up. For now, let’s get you into bed, okay?”

  “Bed, yes, bed sounds good.” Okay, I’m glad we have that all settled. We only a few more feet until we reach our room.

  Our room, it’s funny how naturally my and his have turned to ours, not to mention the fact that he force-fed me billions of dollars in his assets today. I will never be comfortable with that; the houses I can get used to, and the shoes, I’d never say no to expensive shoes.

  But knowing that I am legally bound to that kind of money, it’s not the way I planned on living my life.

  So many things have changed since Marcus arrived in my ICU at Seattle Trinity. He has brought me bliss and at the same time pain, passion and agony but, most of all, a sense of unity and being cherished that I had planned on denying myself forever.

  Our relationship is on the edge of a cliff; things are about to change for us and I can only hope and pray it will be a change for the better. United we stand, together we fall, he goes I go. I won’t live without him.

  Sixty-Seven

  Getting a six foot four-inch tipsy man, who is having difficulty seeing, undressed and successfully into bed is no easy feat. I’ve done it, though; a thin sheen of sweat covers my face from the effort but he’s down.

  I drag my forearm across my forehead to wipe away the perspiration and kick off my heels. Two little kitties have been watching curiously without interfering, as if they know it’s dangerous to toy with Marcus when he’s been drinking.

  I’m just glad we didn’t have to experience an untimely personality change while he’s in this condition. That could have been disastrous or even deadly.

  I cross the bedroom to the closet with Yes and No on my heels. I change into a pair of silky shorts and matching camisole set, purple, of course. I can’t resist watching the kitties play. I prop my ass against the island in the closet while Yes bats at a belt that’s dangling from a hanger. I giggle at her; these little fur balls are going to be fun.

  No does a figure eight around my ankles, weaving in and out, nudging his face against my bare toes. I reach down and scoop him up for a little talk but my bracelet distracts me from the heart to heart I was going to have about ruining my clothes.

  It’s the most beautiful piece of jewelry I’ve ever seen and I’m not allowed to remove it no matter how inappropriate it is. A bracelet like this is more suited for a night out on the town in a slinky dress, not jeans and a sweater.

  There is no arguing about it. Marcus made it very clear that this is nonnegotiable. No wriggles in my hands and I free him to join Yes in her quest to drag my blouse off the hanger.

  I’m dehydrated from the alcohol and I need some water. I’ll tiptoe down to the kitchen and grab some while Marcus is still asleep.

  I slip on my robe. The house is breezy and we have a guest, even though I’m certain he’s passed out after a long day of traveling. I open the door quickly to keep Yes and No trapped in the bedroom. I hadn’t realized until now how creepy the house is at night.

  Sconces light the long halls but the shadows they throw onto the walls and ceiling have me moving faster than I would normally.

  This is a beautiful house to roam around in during the day. I’m forever finding charming areas to curl up. Every time I go on a self-guided tour I find a room I’ve never discovered before.

  I wonder how long it will be until I’ve seen them all? Inside the kitchen door I flip the switch flooding the large room with light and I instantly relax.

  I make my way to the refrigerator and grab one of a dozen bottles off the top shelf and examine it. I usually buy plastic bottles of Smartwater at home but this one is glass with a lovely etching of the words ‘Glace rare iceberg water.’

  Someone melted down an iceberg and bottled it up so I could have a drink before bed? That’s utterly ridiculous and even worse it has a cork instead of a lid.

  I hold the bottle up and screw up my face, wondering how much a bottle of this costs and how the hell am I going to get the top off of this thing?

  “I can help you with that,” Brian says from behind me in the kitchen doorway. I jump and nearly drop the bottle of ancient iceberg water.

  “Oh! Damn it! You scared the shit out of me, Dr. Carlson!” I don’t know why I didn’t call him Brian. The hairs on my arms are crawling with warning and I’m suddenly very thankful I have a set of eyes on me at all times in this house.

  I hope Elijah is on duty watching me and not Mr. Black. I trust Elijah to keep something like this under wraps. Black, not so much.

  Another thought bolts through my mind and I’m immediately ashamed. If Marcus can’t see, he won’t be able to review this video and he will never know that I was alone with Brian in the kitchen tonight.

  Nothing’s happened, of course, and nothing ever will, but I know I’m right about Brian’s feelings toward me. Part of me worries that he will try to take advantage of having me alone, away from Marcus.

  “I’m sorry, Imani, I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me come in.”

  “No, it’s OK. I was just not expecting anyone to be in here.” It isn’t fucking OK. I need to get out of here before Marcus wakes up and wonders where I am.

  Brian approaches me and I instinctively step back. He pauses and tilts his head surprised at my retreat.

  “Imani? Everything OK?”

  “Yes, of course.” I laugh nervously. I can’t help it. Since my attack, I have had an excellent sixth sense and something about this feels wrong.

  He extends his hand and I look at it suspiciously. He points at my water bottle, offering to help me open it.

  “Oh, yes, sure, here.” I thrust it into his hand with too much force and he takes it, arching one eyebrow. He knows I’m uncomfortable but he pops the little cork from the bottle and steps closer to me anyway.

  I’m backed up against the counter. There is no way to nonchalantly escape, and he knows it.

  “So, Marcus got off to bed OK? No problems?”

  “No, he's fine. He’s watching TV,” I lie.

  “He’s made quite a career for himself, hasn’t he? It’s amazing that selling Italian food can bring in this kind of extravagance, isn’t it?”

  His words are harmless, but his tone is irritating and it makes me bristle. I stand up a little straighter having found new confidence in my anger.

  “Yes, he has. Rags to riches kind of story. He deserves it, though, he’s worked very hard.” I say and take my water from his hands.

  “Imani, has anybody told you about his history?” History? What the fuck does he know about Marcus’s history?

  “I’m not sure what you’re referring to. I know his background. I’ve met his sister and I’m aware of what he was like before the accident, if that’s what you mean.”

  “Hmm,” he says, placing his hand on the counter to lean on.

  “Is there something you want to say, Brian? If there is, just say it.”

  Now I’m angry. Who does he think he is coming in here and acting all mysterious and judgmental? I know I’m full on pissed when I can feel my body vibrating and my sight becomes blurry.

  “Don’t get upset, Imani. I’m only worried about you. This man, he’s not like us. He’s from another world, and I don’t mean the privileged and wealthy; I mean the Mob. Marcus Castillo is, or was, part of the Italian Mob. And he wasn’t just part of it, he was the Boss of all Bosses. He’s killed people; he’s ruthless and evil.”

  I’m speechless, where the hell would he get an idea like this? Really? Where?

  “I’m sorry to dump all of this on you. I’m glad I caught you alone. I wasn’t sure how I was going to warn you. When you called and told me who the patient was, I came right away because I was concerned for your welfare. I also thought you should know the real reason
nobody will do his surgery. Physicians are afraid of him. Nobody wants to mess around in a mad man’s brain. If they were to accept his case and something went wrong, his people would have them killed.”

  Oh God, no. This is insane. It can’t be true, not my Marcus. He’s loving and giving and tender and kind… to me.

  Brian’s words begin to take ahold and my anger turns to fear. What if he’s telling the truth? What if he’s not just interested in me but trying to save me from a monster?

  No, as soon as those thoughts creep in I toss them right back out on their ass. It doesn’t matter to me who he was. I love who he is now, today. I love my Marcus, not the brutal man he was before.

  Brian waits for my reaction while I count to ten and draw a deep breath.

  “Brian, I appreciate your concern but it’s really unnecessary. He may have been different before his accident but he’s been nothing but perfect to me since we met.”

  Lies, he hasn’t been perfect, far from it. But there’s no fucking way am I admitting that to him.

  “Is that why you were seen in the hospital for trauma to your neck and throat?” Shit, he’s really been checking up on me. That’s twice that he has shocked me into silence in a few short minutes. This time I stare at him with wide eyes and my mouth hanging open. If Marcus were here, he’d tell me to close my mouth.

  I’m flooded with panic and I know all too well what happens next. I need help but not from this man feeding me crazy information.

  The familiar tunnel vision begins and I raise my hand in the air waving it around like I’m drowning, because in a way I am. I need Elijah. Please, please, Elijah, be watching me.

  “Imani? Shit, are you going to pass out? Let me help you.” He steps toward me, and I try to make my legs move away but I’m past that. I’m going down, and Brian’s going to catch me.

  But right before the world goes black, I feel a whoosh of air and I hear Marcus roar. The fallout from this is going to be nothing less than catastrophic, and I’m glad I don’t have to watch.