by Julia Harlow
Isabel thought she might like her if she could only concentrate on anything for more than a nanosecond. Maybe she should try to move one foot. Her eyelids were already shut, but she closed them tighter as she attempted it. There! She’d jiggled one foot! Time to move the other foot. Success! Okay. Good. Really good. But now the urge to sleep overwhelmed her.
She started to drift into the fog of a heavy sleep but heard heavy footsteps on the tile floor as someone entered the room. Squinting one eye open a tiny bit, she watched a tall man in a white coat with dark hair and broad shoulders stride to the side of the bed. He grasped her hand in his, and it felt toasty warm enclosing her cold one.
Her brain fought against the urge to give in to the medication and overwhelming feeling of exhaustion. Who was this man bringing her hand up to his lips and kissing it? She struggled to focus on his face as he bent down close to her and kissed her cheek.
“I’m so sorry, Isabel. If you had been with me, this never would have happened. I would have protected you with my life. It’s killing me to see you like this. How did this ever happen?” He gripped her hand tighter.
That deep voice was so familiar. She forced her eyelids open. Craig Nelson. Why was he in her hospital room? She decided it must be a drug-induced hallucination. Then . . . everything . . . faded.
~~~
When Isabel reached consciousness again, she found a nurse standing over her, poking and prodding. The woman strapped a blood-pressure cuff around her upper arm while holding two cold fingers against the pulse point in her wrist. Next the excessively efficient nurse pressed an icy metal stethoscope to her chest. The woman turned, briskly tapped the results on a keyboard, and checked the levels of the IV bags before leaving the room.
Why was she in a hospital? What had happened to her? As she closed her eyes, the fuzziness enveloped her again. Right before she drifted off to sleep, an image of a bloated, ruddy-faced Willard Daniels aiming a gun at her drifted by. Her eyes opened wide as she fought against the need to sleep. Had he really been at the loft? The more she considered it, the more she knew Willard had been there and something horrible had happened. Something that had resulted in fighting for her life in the hospital. Had Willard shot her with that gun?
Her head and body throbbed with pain, but even though she had no actual concept of what a gunshot wound would feel like, somehow she didn’t think she’d been shot. She remembered the gun had been aimed at her head. She struggled to lift a tremulous hand up to explore her head. Feeling around, she discovered no bandages.
Suddenly, a startling recollection had her attempting to fling off the blankets and vault from the hospital bed: Pilot! What had happened to her precious dog? She remembered Pilot had been with her on the bed at the loft. Had Willard shot him? She had to find out. But a level of weakness she’d never experienced before in her life prevented her from sitting up when she tried to. She slumped back on the lumpy foam pillow and let the tears come.
She heard the door open again. Probably the nurse or doctor, no doubt. But then something wet and warm nudged against her hand. Something wonderfully familiar. Pilot was at her bedside, his nose against her hand. Could this be a dream? But when her beloved dog began to lick her fingers, she knew she couldn’t dream so vivid a sensation as the feel of her dog’s wet tongue licking her hand. Almost afraid to open her eyes and break the miraculous spell, Isabel spoke. “Pilot, is that you?”
The dog gave her hand a nudge of affirmation. She reached out a hand and felt the soft fur on his head. Releasing a small sob, she opened her eyes. While she ran her fingers over Pilot’s velvety ears, her eyes found the tall figure holding a hot pink Hello Kitty leash. Ty.
Now the tears spilled down her cheeks unabated. She didn’t even try to stop them. “Oh, Ty! You’re here! Thank God. And you brought Pilot to me. And he’s all right.” The words came out on a sob. She fought the weakness because no matter how ridiculous the question was, given the current circumstances, she had to ask, “Where did that hideous leash come from?”
She could tell that Ty wanted to laugh, but he hesitated, letting the leash drop to the tile floor with a soft slapping sound. At her bedside, he clasped her hand and nestled it between his big, warm palms. Tears trickled down his cheeks too.
Oh, no, she couldn’t stand to see her big, strong hero crying. Over her?
She coughed to clear her throat. “It’s okay, Ty. Please don’t cry.” Dragging the only chair in the room across the tiles to her bedside, he sat and his head sank into the middle of her body. In no time, her fingers tunneled through his thick dark blond hair, soothing him as best she could.
His voice sounded muffled as he tried to speak against the blankets. “I thought I’d lost you, my love. I’ve aged at least ten fucking years in the last two agonizing hours.” He lifted his head to meet her green eyes.
With Ty and Pilot with her now, a small surge of exuberance pulsed through her. “Well, I’m still here, apparently. Bless you for bringing Pilot to me. I was so worried something horrible had happened to him.
“But, seriously, Ty, where did you get that awful leash?” She couldn’t help asking again. In the midst of everything else, she couldn’t seem to get past the idea of her heroic dog with that garish pink leash. It was just so wrong.
This time Ty chuckled deep in his throat. “Don’t you recognize it? It’s one of Queenie’s. The only reason Pilot’s allowed in the hospital is because I told Dr. Cheng that he’s your therapy dog.”
Even Isabel had to laugh, albeit weakly. “But how did you get it?”
“Ellen and Andrew are waiting to see you. Fortunately, Ellen keeps a spare leash in her car.”
Ty and Isabel spoke softly together, their heads barely inches apart. After a while, Ty said, “I really don’t want to leave you, but I should let Ellen and Andrew come in. And Conrad is in the waiting room too. He’s been here a long time and really wants to see you.”
Isabel held on tightly to his hand. “No. Please don’t go, not just yet.”
He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her fingers. “I’d crawl into that bed with you right now if I thought I’d fit.”
It took an effort on her part, but Isabel carefully shimmied over on the stiff hospital bed mattress—the side toward the IV drip and wires. Ty eased his big body, radiating heat, next to hers, and she immediately relaxed, snuggling her back against his front and sighing her contentment.
They stayed that way, their bodies spooning so close not even a piece of tissue paper could fit between them. Ty kissed the top of her head and draped a muscular arm over her body.
When the nurse came in to take Isabel’s vitals, the surprised expression on her face quickly changed to the very picture of disapproval, complete with eyebrows slammed together and pursed lips. “I’m sure Dr. Cheng would not approve of this.”
Ty took his time reluctantly uncurling his body and standing. “Do what you need to.” He gave the nurse a frosty nod, then, smiling at Isabel, said, “I’ll get Ellen and Andrew first, and then Conrad can come in after they leave.” He crossed his eyes and stuck out his tongue behind Nurse Ratchet’s back and smiled at the sound of Isabel’s sweet, if somewhat weak, giggle.
~~~
Sometime during the night, Isabel briefly gained consciousness to realize Clarissa was quietly weeping at her bedside. “Please, my precious Isabel, you have to survive what that sadistic bastard did to you. We can’t let him prevail. He was a vindictive, despicable . . . Oh, I can’t think of another word vile enough to describe him and what he did to you.” Her fingers smoothed over Isabel’s forehead.
Isabel sighed. The comfort of having her mother beside her was palpable, but she couldn’t force her eyes open. So she just lay there and listened to her mother’s soothing voice. “You are all I have in this world that means anything to me, Isabel. I will not survive this without you.
“This is all my fault. I should have been aware of what was happening to you when we were living with Willard. I blinded
myself to his flaws because I wanted our marriage to work so badly. This is my ultimate punishment for being selfish. You mean more to me than Willard ever did. And now he’s done this horrific thing to you.”
Isabel felt something warm and wet dripping onto her wrist. Her mother’s tears? She struggled against the heavy medications that were making her drowsy so she could console her mother, but it was useless.
Chapter 27
Two days later Isabel was discharged from the hospital to continue her recovery at Ty’s luxurious penthouse at The Admiral. He’d arranged for a nurse to attend her twenty-four hours a day and had convinced Dr. Cheng to visit at least once a day, to personally oversee Isabel’s recovery, with a lavish donation to UCSF Medical Center.
When Mei, the diminutive nurse he’d hired, insisted on Isabel getting out of bed and walking down the hall that very afternoon, Ty found himself texting Dr. Cheng. Wasn’t it too soon for Isabel to be expending this much energy?
The good doctor affirmed that getting out of bed and walking a bit was the best course for Isabel, and that the longer she stayed in bed, the more she risked muscle atrophy. Dr. Cheng assured Ty that this was protocol. He grudgingly accepted it as long as it had Dr. Cheng’s approval.
He’d made arrangements to work from his home office so he would be near Isabel. Clarissa fussed over her daughter like a mother hen over her newborn chick. Her mother’s positive attitude and joie de vivre had an immediate and positive effect on Isabel. Ty insisted that Clarissa stay with them at the penthouse and had his housekeeper make up a guest suite for her. He found he enjoyed Clarissa’s company almost as much as Isabel did.
With each day that passed, Isabel regained a bit more strength and recovered a little more from the effects of the barbiturates and alcohol Willard had forced on her. She and Clarissa worked jigsaw and crossword puzzles together while Ty caught up on work in his home office.
Mother and daughter chatted about books they’d read and movies they’d seen. When Ty overheard their enthusiastic conversation about the new version of Far from the Madding Crowd just released on DVD, he made sure they had access to any movie they wanted to watch together. And they did. This last gesture of his made Isabel deliriously happy as it brought back fond memories of that special time long ago when she and her mother went to the movies together.
As the weeks flew by, Isabel began to recoup more and more of her strength. Her appetite eventually returned, and Ty ordered up all manner of delicious meals for her. At first, she only felt up to lighter fare such as poached eggs with sour dough toast; she soon had a hankering for cream of asparagus soup and moved on to grilled Jarlsberg on light rye and then to even heartier fair as she became stronger. Her relatively swift return to health surprised Dr. Cheng, and after ten days, she announced that Isabel no longer needed a nurse.
Isabel and Ty decided it was time to disclose their big announcement to Clarissa. When Ty formally asked for her daughter’s hand in marriage, Clarissa didn’t even bat an eye. In fact, she laughed, a sound so sweet and lyrical that Ty and Isabel both grinned without altogether knowing why.
Clarissa said that anyone would have to be blind not to see how much the two of them loved one another. When they were together, she continued, they gazed at each other as if no one else in the world existed. Of course, she gave her consent with tears of sheer joy. She couldn’t have dreamed of a better man for Isabel than Ty.
As soon as she was assured her daughter was on track for a complete recovery, including questioning poor Dr. Cheng ad infinitum, Clarissa headed back to Cincinnati and her thriving business. She promised to visit again very soon to help plan their wedding.
A seemingly never-ending slew of visitors came to see Isabel. When Victoria and Jamie stopped by one afternoon, Isabel found herself overwhelmed with emotion. An inherent closeness had developed between Isabel and Victoria that neither of them could explain, and she held on tight to her sister-in-law-to-be as she leaned in for a hug.
Victoria wore a sleeveless linen dress with black buttons trailing down one side that complemented her tall, slim figure perfectly. She’d paired the classy dress with Tieks Italian leather black ballet flats, a trendy as well as sensible choice for a mother toting around an eight-month-old baby.
Her blond hair drawn back in a loose chignon accentuated her high cheekbones, sculpted jaw, and full mouth. Her blue eyes pooled with tears as she regarded Isabel. “I’ve prayed for you every day since this horrible thing happened to you. Ty hasn’t given me much information, but I hope you will; that is, if you feel up to it once you’ve completely recovered. I really want to understand how and why this happened.”
Isabel leaned forward to kiss Victoria’s cheek. “I’ll tell you everything as soon as I’m up to it. I promise.” She glanced at Ty and, at the same time, winked a secret signal in his direction.
His adorable nephew, clad in a navy-and-white-striped Hanna Andersson romper, was sucking contentedly on Ty’s thumb, completely secure in his uncle’s strong arms. Even as Ty planted a soft kiss on the baby’s downy head, his eyes were glued to Isabel.
He cleared his throat. “Well, Vicky, we need to tell you something. Mom and Dad don’t know yet, so don’t go spilling the beans when you talk to them. I’ve asked Isabel to marry me, and for some unfathomable reason, she’s accepted.”
Victoria drew back from embracing Isabel and exclaimed, clapping her hands together, “I knew it! I knew all along you two would get married. You’re absolutely perfect for each other!”
~*~
Ty perched on the side of the bed, trailing his fingertips down Isabel’s silky-smooth cheek. Soft classical music played over the sound system. The room was filled with all the delicious scents of a flower shop. Delft Blue vases held every variety of extravagant flower; one held a bouquet of vibrant lavender hydrangeas, another held pink peonies, and yet another a fragrant arrangement of Lily of the Valley cascading down the sides of a white porcelain vase.
Every available surface in the room held fresh floral arrangements. Magenta orchids adorned one bedside table while an abundance of Casablanca lilies perched in a vase on the matching bedside table. Most of the exquisite arrangements were from Ty, but her former Baycrest team had sent a lovely bouquet of white hydrangeas and pink roses. The dresser across from the bed held a gorgeous arrangement of deep purple orchids from Ellen and Andrew.
Isabel sank into fluffy eiderdown pillows, enjoying not only the sight but also the delicately aromatic air coming from the exotic flowers. More than that, though, she relished the sight of the stunning man sitting on the side of her bed. She loved him so much it made her heart ache. She wore a shimmery pink ruffled peignoir that complemented her thick, dark hair and complexion made all the rosier by his presence.
The peignoir was only one of a half-dozen frothy confections that Ty had purchased for her. The colors might have spilled out from a package of Pillow Mints: frothy green, soft white, ecru, muted yellow, and the palest aqua. At first, Isabel had voiced her disapproval on these extravagant expenditures, but she finally gave up fighting Ty on his lavish gifts where she was concerned. If it gave him so much pleasure, why should she argue with him about it?
In addition to the vases of fragrant flowers, Isabel’s bedside tables held stacks of books, including her three Jane Austen favorites: Pride and Prejudice, Sense and Sensibility, and Persuasion. Next to them sat a dog-eared copy of Jane Eyre she was re-reading for the third time. Tucked in between that stack was her ragged copy of Du Maurier’s Rebecca.
Another tower of paperbacks included the latest bestseller “mommy porn” that Ellen so vocally eschewed. The fact that Ellen had been the one who’d brought them on her most recent visit tickled Isabel to no end.
Her laptop was always nearby. She kept up with her favorite app-design sites and bookmarked ideas she found interesting or promising. Ty tried to abscond with her laptop more than once so she would rest instead of “working,” but Isabel insisted on always having it at her fi
ngertips.
The evening after Clarissa went back to Cincinnati, Ty stretched his big, hard body next to Isabel’s in bed and stroked her hair, remarking, “You do realize, my love, one of the main reasons you were able to recover as well as you have is because of your incomparably sexy hour-glass figure.” He moved his hand from her hair to run his fingertips along her hip and down her thigh. She shivered and felt delicious goose bumps all over her body.
Her eyebrows inched up. “What in the world are you talking about, Ty?”
Chapter 28
“I’m talking about the fact that I’ve always loved your incredibly gorgeous body, but I love it even more than ever because now I know it saved you. It kept you with me.” His palms moved up to cup her face. “Dr. Cheng said if you’d been some skinny, little waif you might not have survived this. The drugs in your system could have completely overwhelmed you.
“But because you’re so shapely and beautifully well-endowed, your body was able to deal with the barbiturates your asshole stepfather forced you to ingest. It means I’m always going to make sure you’re well-fed with whatever you desire.” His lips touched her temples, her cheeks, and finally her mouth, ending in a deep, passionate kiss.
The hands that held her face trailed down to her shoulders, her upper arms, and finally fondled her breasts through the filmy fabric of her negligee. Suddenly, he broke away from the kiss, his breath coming in pants. “I need to call Dr. Cheng.”
“Now? Whatever for?”
“I have to ask her how soon we can make love. Being near you like this without doing anything about it is killing me.” He winked at her, pulling his cell from his pocket.
Isabel couldn’t believe he was actually going to call Dr. Cheng to ask her that question. Ty vaulted off the bed and adjusted himself in his slacks. The effect she was having on him was obvious by the prominent bulge at his zipper.
He strode into the hall for a private conversation with the doctor. A few minutes later when he returned, it didn’t take a NASA scientist to decipher that Dr. Cheng’s answer wasn’t what he wanted to hear. Ty’s shoulders slumped, his brow furrowed, and he was frowning.
