Valley of Fire

by Janelle Taylor

  “You’re very kind and helpful, Mrs. Densley.”

  Brandy anxiously awaited the arrival of the doctor whom Mrs. Densley so obviously disliked. She did not have to linger for very long. He swooped into the brightly lit room like a hang glider coming in for an artistic landing. He flashed her a smile which was anything but genial or professional. Brandy relaxed just enough to give him a wan one in return. Her alert eyes read the navy blue lettering upon his stark white jacket which proclaimed his identity and lofty status.

  Adam Ross asked for Brandy’s new readings. The arrogant tinge to his voice could hardly be missed. Yet, he grinned mischievously as he ordered the confident Mrs. Densely to ready her for an examination. “Looks as if your blood pressure, pulse rate, and temperature are gradually returning to normal, Miss Alexander. Excellent. The chart indicates no medical allergies or problems . . . The EKG and EEG appear to be normal. Any difficulty breathing? Any pain or numbness anywhere?” he inquired as he listened to her heart from several locations on her upper back. “Take a deep breath. Now, let it out slowly . . . Again, please . . .” She only nodded in reply to his queries.

  When Dr. Ross moved to the front of her chest, Brandy quickly averted her eyes from his piercing ones. “Mrs. Densley, kindly remove the tape from her gown. I need to listen to her heart.” His tone was pleasant, but his eyes hinted at his dislike of this particular nurse.

  Mrs. Densley came forward and gently removed the tape from Brandy’s backside. She told Brandy to lie down on her back. The gown was lowered to her slim waist and a white towel was placed over her bare breasts. As the doctor moved the cold, flat surface of his stethoscope between her breasts and then under the left one, her face grew redder and redder. Her cheeks burned with the force of her embarrassment, knowing she was totally nude beneath that flimsy sheet. She glued her eyes to the ceiling panels and focused her attention upon guessing images from the varying sizes and shapes of the holes within their rough texture.

  Time crawled by, and the study continued. Thinking this examination was taking much too long, Brandy risked a glance at his face. Sure enough, his expression said he was concentrating upon anything except her rapid heartbeat. He seemed amused by the scarlet flush upon her neck and upper chest. His eyes were leisurely scanning any area of her slender, golden body that was visible to his wide gaze. Suffused with modesty and anger, Brandy gave a loud and meaningful, “Ah-hem . . .”

  The doctor glanced up at her crimson face and challenging eyes. He easily noted her open annoyance with him. His blue eyes twinkled at her unspoken, but clear, accusation. He casually replaced the towel across her bosom and turned to make some notations upon her chart. He then proceeded to ask her many questions about herself, her solitary trip into the Valley of Fire, and her condition as it had progressed during the day. Brandy didn’t question her instant dislike of this man, but something about him struck a note of discord within her sensitive nature.

  Brandy answered each question fully or partially, according to how much information she felt the overly curious doctor was entitled to know. She had already decided this man would not be the one to handle her case if it was necessary for her to remain in this hospital; that is, if there was any civil way to get around him. For all she knew, he could be the chief-of-staff! How she wished she was home and under the kindly, gentle supervision of Dr. Crowley and his adorable Nurse Gimble.

  Knowing the reaction she would no doubt receive from this kind of man if he learned of her identity, she did not tell him her occupation or her motive for her fateful trip into the nearby desert. She had met his type many times in the past: overbearing, egotistical, aggressive playboys. She had always been wary of men who discovered her real identity—and with good reason. Many of them placed her in the role of one of her heroines or boldly placed themselves in the role of one of her romantic heroes, assuming they could become her dream-man in reality and enchant her into mindless submission. It was easy to detect Dr. Ross’s exaggerated opinion of himself, physically and professionally. Even blindness couldn’t have concealed his meaningful tone of voice, inviting expressions, and brazen touches. Didn’t he realize he was on duty, and she was an injured patient? This man definitely fit the pattern for men who believed romance writers were hot-blooded, carefree nymphomaniacs who supplied their fantasies in black and white.

  She had always found it more relaxing and less demanding if she presented herself as Katherine Alexander, breeder of purebred Appaloosas on a ranch in Kentucky, until they could become better acquainted. While totally true, it prevented many misunderstandings and claims upon her time and her attention. In all fairness to the male sex, these rules usually applied to unknown females as well. She had learned long ago that Katherine Alexander could slip into a cordial group far more easily than Brandy was allowed to do . . .

  She began to edge some of her own questions in between his, a fact which annoyed him. Why, she couldn’t determine. He seemed to prefer being the master of any situation, and he didn’t take to her being assertive.

  “Just a few more questions, Miss Alexander, then you can rest. I was hoping to be able to supply the patrolmen with enough information to leave you alone for a few days,” he informed her. “In my opinion, you’ll need bed rest for a full week. We’ll replenish your salts and fluids gradually. Heatstroke interferes with the body’s heat regulation center in the central nervous system. It usually requires about a week to properly restore the body’s sweating process,” he remarked, hoping to impress this female with his abilities and knowledge.

  “I see,” she replied softly. “May I make a few phone calls before I’m put to bed for the night? I’ll need to alert the hotel to my accident, so they’ll hold my room and possessions.” That statement sparked another thought. “You did say the police were bringing in the car?”

  “That’s right,” he casually agreed.

  “Could you please have them bring me the things I left in it? Also, I’ll need to notify the rental agency about the car trouble.” Oddly, her thoughtfulness and intelligence irritated him further, which also chafed Brandy. He was getting her subtle messages of discouragement, and was reacting as expected.

  “You can take care of those business matters in the morning. Right now, your health and rest are more important. Mrs. Densley, would you see to a room for Miss Alexander? I’ll see you in the morning, Miss Alexander,” he commented, then hesitated briefly. “Is there any family who should be notified tonight?” he unexpectedly asked.

  Too exhausted to discuss any touchy matter at this late hour, Brandy simply shook her head no and said, “Thank you, Dr. Ross. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Surprisingly, his tight expression softened slightly. His blue eyes glowed warmly for a moment. Before he was out of the door, she called out, “Doctor, is the man who found me still here?”

  Miffed, he scoffed, “He left right after dropping you off. I’m positive the police have his name and address if you’re still interested in the morning.”

  “I would like to thank him for assisting me. After all, he did save my life, or so you said earlier. Thank you once again, Dr. Ross. Good night.”

  The nurse called for a wheelchair to come and take Brandy to her assigned room. After settling Brandy in that sterile, depressingly colorless room, the nurse checked her I.V. and bid her a sunny good night.

  Brandy only hesitated a few minutes after Mrs. Densley’s departure before reaching for the bedside phone. She asked the hospital operator to connect her with her hotel. After informing them of her recent accident, she asked them to hold her room until further notice. She also asked if there was someone who could pack a few of her personal belongings and deliver them to her in the morning, with ample payment of course. The hotel manager quickly consented, well aware of who Miss Brandy Alexander was. Knowing it was too late to call Casey in New York or the rental agency in Vegas, she postponed those two calls until morn
ing.

  She made a mental note to contact the police for information about her gallant rescuer and for knowledge of her things which had been left in the Cadillac. Exhausted, but pleased with her success and survival, she closed her burning eyes and went to sleep.

  Muted noises and muffled voices aroused Brandy that next day. She stirred and attempted to sit up. Feeling like a limp dishcloth, she promptly lay back down. It was not long before she heard a cheery “Good morning, Miss Alexander.”

  Brandy turned instantly and glanced up at the unfamiliar nurse who was standing near her bed. She murmured a polite, “Good morning.” This woman had a sunny, easy disposition, a youthful, pleasing face with a radiant smile and laughing hazel eyes. Brandy liked the way this nurse encouraged a person to feel calm and happy, an enviable trait.

  The nurse silently took her temperature, blood pressure, and pulse rate. She marked these numbers upon a pad in her hand. She then changed the almost empty saline bottle. She gently lifted Brandy’s left arm and studied the connection to make sure it had not been dislodged during the night. She smiled again, her eyes lucid and sincere.

  “Dr. Ross will be in to see you in about an hour. Do you feel up to breakfast this morning?” she inquired, her tone laced with a heavy western drawl.

  “Only some juice and coffee if that’s all right. I don’t normally eat breakfast.”

  “Fine, Miss Alexander. Fluids are what you really need right now. You should try to consume as much liquid as possible for the next few days,” she advised the steadily calming Brandy.

  “Why do I ache all over?” Brandy asked about the annoying soreness in her whole body. She felt as if she had been put through the wringer, every inch of her body fussing.

  “That’s a common reaction to dehydration. You’ll feel weak and sore for about a week. Your body received a big shock. Let’s just say it’s making your abuse of it loudly known to you. Any pains anywhere? Hands? Feet? Chest?”

  “None. Has the hotel delivered my suitcase yet?”

  “I’ll check when I return to the desk. If not, I’ll bring it to you when it arrives.”

  “That’s very kind of you. I must admit I feel rather like a fool for permitting such a dangerous accident. The desert is certainly no place for a Kentucky greenhorn,” she remarked with a musical laugh.

  Taking an instant liking to this fragile but resilient girl, the nurse smiled once again. “I’ll have some juice and coffee sent in. If you need anything before I return, just buzz.”

  Later, Brandy was slowly sipping another serving of fresh orange juice and steaming, delicious coffee. It soothed her sore throat to some extent. She had made her call to Casey, telling her not to worry about her and promising to keep her informed of her progress and condition. Brandy had decided not to call the police just yet. They would no doubt be in to see her later; she could inquire into the identity of one Lance Reynolds at that time.

  She sighed lightly. Lance Reynolds . . . What a romantic, strong name. Rosy visions danced across her imaginative mind. Rescued just like one of her heroines. How very exciting and unique. She sighed dramatically and frowned. She would be sorely disappointed if he was only seventeen or perhaps fifty with a balding pate and beer-gut. Brandy hastily chided herself; a timely rescue didn’t require a handsome and mysterious rogue!

  The hotel did send her suitcase over to her as promised. It contained the necessary items for a more comfortable and attractive stay. When Dr. Ross came in, she was just leaving her bathroom. After the nurse had disconnected her I.V. Brandy had bravely denied her lingering weakness long enough to brush her teeth, to wash up, and to change into one of her own gowns: a becoming satin one, in a soft shade of celadon, Grecian in style.

  The combination of golden tan, milk-white teeth, celadon gown, forest-green eyes, and amber hued tresses which fell loosely around her bare shoulders and tossed in casual layers on the top and sides presented her as the stunning illusion of a Greek goddess. That particular gown not only enhanced her figure but also complimented her coloring.

  As she exited the bathroom, she nearly collided with Ross. A look of disbelief and undisguised interest traveled his hawkish features before he could prevent it. His gaze swept over her flawless complexion, scanty attire, her startled green eyes, and tawny mane within a few brief seconds . . . as did that of the towering man just a few steps behind him.

  After a gasp of surprise, her jungle-green gaze instantly passed over Ross to fuse with the hypnotic sea-blue one of the most visually arresting man she’d ever seen. Unable to think clearly, she simply stared at him, her bare feet seemingly glued to the floor. For all she knew or saw, Dr. Adam Ross had suddenly become invisible or nonexistent. She was slowly drowning in those powerful pools of blue, and she didn’t even care. There were no such things as time and reality. Little creases edged those potent blue orbs as a sensual grin lazily pulled his lips towards his left jawline. A flicker of astonishment was unhurriedly replaced by undeniable pleasure and amusement.

  Brandy was rudely snatched back to cold reality by the formal tone of Adam Ross. “I should have knocked first, Miss Alexander. I didn’t realize you weren’t dressed. Besides, you shouldn’t be out of bed without my permission,” he boldly reprimanded her, irrationally vexed by her reaction to the virile man with him. So much for his social plans for her after her release . . . Women, he mentally sneered, always pushovers for looks and money! He hurriedly warned himself to tread lightly with this female and this precarious situation; he couldn’t afford another black mark.

  Brandy’s lovely face flushed a deep scarlet at his discourteous chiding before another man, and such a man! The rosy color quickly escaped her face and raced down her golden chest. “Yes, Dr. Ross; you should have knocked before entering a lady’s room. I wasn’t expecting any visitors since I don’t know anyone here in Vegas,” she informed him. Since she was confined to a hospital bed, how should she be dressed?

  Brandy lifted the matching green robe from the bed and began to struggle into it. Before she could do so, the other man instantly came forward and gallantly assisted her. Confused by her magnetic attraction to this total stranger, she flushed again as she stammered a gracious “thank you.” Weak and shaky from her exertion, she sat down upon the bed and clutched the edges of the robe tightly together.

  She wondered if this magnificent creature was another doctor or if he might be a state patrolman who had come to question her about the accident. His manner of dress told her nothing. She had great difficulty pulling her wayward eyes and straying attention from him as she attempted to converse with the impertinent Ross.

  “Who removed your I.V.? I left distinct orders for you to receive five bottles. The chart shows only three given so far,” he was saying, needlessly throwing around his weight. Damn, he was tired of people changing his orders and treating him as if he were some offensive disease. Half of the staff here would be delighted to see him tossed out of the medical field. Maybe he should go into private practice; he’d had it with the politics and pressures in hospitals!

  Brandy warily eyed the stocky, offensive man before her. She held out her bruised, injured left arm and stated, “The tape stuck to the sheet and jerked the needle loose. The nurse went to bring another connection, I believe she called it. I took advantage of the brief freedom from tubes and needles in order to bathe and put on one of my own gowns, if you don’t object, Doctor. After all, your hospital garb is most lacking in looks and in privacy.” Brandy focused her attention on Ross, contemplating his nasty manner and unethical conduct. Didn’t he realize she could report him for his brazen behavior? Did he even care? More to the point, why was Ross so hateful to her? Everything she said or did appeared to offend or challenge him.

  The lazy chuckle from the other man brought her attention back to him. His intensely blue eyes were filled with genuine amusement. His perfectly straight teeth were stark white
against his bronzed, irresistibly compelling features. His midnight black hair was vital and full; one thick wave fell over his right temple with just the right hint of windblown intrigue which invited feminine hands to stroke it.

  His vibrant red crêpe de chine, custom-tailored shirt failed to conceal the virile physique with its snug, vivid confines; in fact, it boasted loudly of the solid, well-developed muscles and brute strength beneath it. Wisps of curly black hair peeked out around the edges of the neckline which had been intentionally left unbuttoned, boldly showing a provocative expanse of a manly chest which caused chills of excitement and fascination to race over Brandy’s entire body. His slim hips and firm, long legs were encased in navy blue straight-legged slacks. His camel-colored blazer completed his dashing, intoxicating image. It should be a crime for any man to look like this! She shifted uneasily as she thought: How would this hunk of manly charm look naked? Shocked, she hastily dismissed that train of imagination.

  Brandy’s gaze helplessly eased down his massive shoulders to the thick biceps which declared him to be either a rugged outdoorsman or an extremely active sportsman. No athlete could be in better shape or form! He was easily six-feet-four inches tall. He reeked of self-assurance, charisma, polish, and arrogance. His dark blue eyes possessed that heady mixture of mystery, enticement, and allure. His was clearly a personality that definitely ruled its own destiny and perhaps the fates of many other people—certainly numerous women. Brandy struggled to vanquish the irrational jealousy which oozed through her. He was magnificent and utterly bedazzling.

  Brandy hastily decided he was the most attractive, beguiling man she had ever seen. She could not suppress a smile as she mentally added the final touches to her brazen, intense scrutiny: He was the epitome of every hero in her many novels; he was the image which comprised the daydreams of countless women, including herself; he was the very pinnacle of manhood. Perhaps too perfect . . . She inwardly dreaded to discover the flaws this delightful stranger surely possessed, as all men did.