His Golden Heart

by Marcia King-Gamble

  Easy, Shayna, he’s your patient. Don’t get taken in.

  “I won’t let anyone into my head, princess, so don’t even try.” Beau’s gray eyes flashed dangerously. Shayna’s pulse pounded.

  “Then you won’t ever recover,” she said. “You’ll be dependent on that contraption for the rest of your life. At best you’ll be tied to a cane. Just think, the great Beaumont Hill, lame. Do it my way and you’ll ski again.”

  Shayna turned her back on him and began sorting through the books on a nearby bookcase. At last she found the one she was looking for, Turning Hurts Into Halos. She turned back to him. “If you want to leave here walking you might try reading this.”

  Reluctantly, Beau took the book from her. “You drive a hard bargain, princess.”

  “And another thing,” Shayna said, refusing to soften, “I’m not your princess. My name is Shayna. I call the shots. You listen, and there’s a pretty good chance you’ll be on your feet in a couple of weeks. Understand?”

  Beau muttered another expletive. Visibly disgusted he thumbed through the pages. “No. But I don’t have anything else to lose.”

  “Exactly.” Shayna reached for the phone.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Session’s over. I’m calling Mary Jane. Next time we meet, we’ll discuss that book.”

  Beau glared at her. “We’ll see, prin… We’ll see.”

  “That we will,” Shayna said, punching in the numbers.

  Chapter Two

  Bored with the game shows on television, and having no interest in soap operas, Beau returned to the book open on his nightstand.

  Turning Hurts Into Halos. What kind of name was that?

  Grumbling all the way, he’d flipped through the book last evening, and after ten minutes, tossed it aside. He’d never had tolerance for psycho-babble.

  Beau snapped the television remote and groaned. He was faced with talk show guests espousing the mind’s power to heal, how important mind over matter was, and good energy versus bad. It would be his luck that Shayna DaCosta was one of those New Age types who believed in holistic healing. That touchy-feely stuff.

  What he needed was results. To be made whole again. Beau hated to admit it but Immaculata was right Shayna was cute in an offbeat kind of way. If he could stand up, she would come up to his shoulder, maybe. But tiny as she was, she had a big woman’s personality, and was bossy as all hell. Her elfin haircut made those huge almond-shaped eyes look even larger. The knowledge in their depths ran way beyond her years. He hadn’t lied when he’d told her she looked sixteen.

  Beau imagined she would appeal to a certain kind of man. The protective type. Little would they guess that under the fragile exterior was a woman of steel. It would be an interesting several weeks working with her.

  Immaculata stuck her head in the open doorway and smiled at him. It grated on his nerves that nothing seemed to ruffle her. No one could be that upbeat all of the time. No one. “How’s my patient doing?” She asked.

  “Lousy as always.”

  “Get over it. What are you reading?” She pointed to the book in his hand. “I’ve never seen you read.”

  Beau mumbled something he preferred she not hear under his breath. “Got to be a nut to believe in this stuff.” He flung the book halfway across the room, breaking the spine.

  “Now look at what you’ve done,” Immaculata chastised, bending over to retrieve the book. She read the title out loud. “Turning Hurts Into Halos. Shayna must have lent you this. You’ll have hell to pay when she gets it back in this condition.”

  “I’ll deal with it. I’m supposed to read this garbage and discuss it with her next session.”

  “Isn’t that tomorrow? Will you be finished by then?”

  Beau shrugged. “I’m not worried. What’s she going to do? Refuse to work with me?”

  Immaculata checked his chart. “She just might. Yep, your second session’s tomorrow. How did the first go?”

  Beau propped himself on his elbows and scowled at her. “How did you expect it to go?”

  Mary Jane beamed at him. “Did you like Shayna?”

  Beau longed to wipe that ever-present grin off Immaculata’s face. It was sometimes difficult to remember that he actually liked her. Bringing his chart with her, she took a seat in the adjacent chair, crossing her legs at dimpled knees.

  “What’s there to like?” he grunted.

  “Everything. She’s beautiful inside and out.”

  Beau made a rude sound. “Is she legit? Does she get results? Since she works for Denver Rehab, I’m going to assume she comes with credentials and a degree.

  Never mind that she looks like a child.”

  “A beautiful child who has brains and lots of successes under her belt.”

  “Her personality needs work. She’s hell on wheels.”

  Immaculata chortled. “And you aren’t?”

  Beau blushed. He had reason to be ugly. Shayna DaCosta didn’t. She had two fully functioning legs and had a fairly lucrative career from what he could see. Whereas he was about to lose all his endorsements. None of the major companies would want a cripple representing them.

  “What’s Shayna’s story?” Beau reluctantly asked. Something about her had captured his interest. Call it insatiable curiosity. Call it whatever you wanted. He suddenly needed to know.

  Mary Jane’s smile widened. “You’re interested in Shayna. This is the first time you’ve asked me about anyone on our team. Anything in particular you’d like to know?”

  What was it he wanted to know? Why the sudden curiosity, or interest, as Immaculata called it? He’d met the physical therapist once, briefly. They’d exchanged pitifully few words. The few they’d exchanged had been heated. Still, if he was about to turn his body over to her, he needed to make sure that she was experienced, well thought of, and could deliver.

  “How long has she been doing this?”

  “Rehabilitation therapy?”

  “Yes, physical therapy.”

  Immaculata leaned forward as if she was about to reveal a confidence. “Shayna came to us less than a year ago. She moved here from Seattle. Rumor has it—”

  There was a commotion at the door. A light-as-a breeze fragrance mingled with hospital smells.

  “I’m here to see my Beau-Beau,” Chandra announced, bouncing into the room and nodding at Immaculata dismissively.

  Mary Jane took the hint. She rose, brushing herself off. “I’ve got patients to see. Have fun, you two.”

  Chandra plopped herself down on his bed. Beau winced. No matter how many times he’d begged her not to just plant herself down, she always claimed to forget. Beau had decided it was easier to grit his teeth and bear the pain. A much better alternative than getting into a fight with Chandra. “I’m off to Milan tomorrow,” she announced. “Baby, I’ll miss you so much.”

  “Milan?” Beau inhaled a huge sigh of relief but was careful to keep his expression neutral. “How long will you be gone?”

  “Don’t know. Two weeks. Maybe three.” Chandra twisted his top sheet between perfectly manicured nails. The five-karat emerald-cut diamond he’d given her sparkled from her left hand. “Well, that’s the thing. The client wants me there at least three weeks. As spokesperson for the Bellissima line, I’ll be shooting commercials and making appearances.”

  Three weeks without Chandra’s whining and hounding him for sex sounded like heaven to him. Three months was a long time to expect her to go without sex. But she professed to love him, even though time and time again, he’d offered to let her out of the engagement. That she’d declined surprised him. A woman like Chandra would have no trouble finding someone to take care of her needs. Someone who could walk, and was fully functional. Glad for this unexpected reprieve, though he would never tell her that, Beau hastened to reassure her. “I’m going to miss you like crazy, babe.”

  Yeah, he’d miss the unexpected visits. The nagging for sex. Lately she’d taken to dropping by the hospital at the most
inopportune times, always outside of visitors’ hours. Usually when he’d taken a painkiller and was groggy and nonfunctional, or after he’d been up all night haunted by those unpleasant dreams. She would park herself on his bed, taunting him, when he could do nothing about it.

  “So what about you giving me a good-bye gift?” Chandra asked, slowly hiking her skirt up and demonstrating that she’d come sans underwear. There was a time when just the sight of her honey-colored skin, her carefully trimmed mound, would have had him foaming at the mouth. Not now. Not when he lay in bed helpless.

  Chandra straddled him at the same time working a couple of buttons open. Beau, despite the discomfort of having her on top of him, obliged her by taking a bare breast into his mouth. Chandra’s skirt settled around her hips. Beau heaved a sigh. He’d given in to temptation and couldn’t finish what he started. Didn’t even want to try. Why embarrass himself?

  “My parents will be here any minute,” Beau said, “Wouldn’t do for them to walk in and see us like this.” He kissed her soundly.

  Reluctantly Chandra tugged down her skirt and pouted. “Screw your parents. Why can’t we make love like we used to? It’s been over three months. If this continues much longer I’ll shrivel up and die.”

  All of Beau’s pent-up fury came to a head. He’d cut back on the painkillers, and so far the horrible temper tantrums and ugly mood swings had lessened. But Chandra’s sniveling set him off.

  “Look, I’m not keeping you bound to me,” he snapped. “I’ve offered you your freedom numerous times. If sex is more important to you than my getting well, then let’s call our relationship off until you get back from Milan. I won’t ask you what you did over there, if you promise not to ask me what I did here. Deal?”

  Chandra raised her long neck. Her eyelashes swept her cheeks. The tears flowed freely. Crocodile tears. Still, he hated that he’d made her cry. Any man would be crazy to let her go.

  “I’m sorry, Beau-Beau,” she said, looking up, brown eyes brimming. “I’m just so horny.”

  “And I’m giving you the opportunity to resolve that issue. You have three weeks to do as you want. If at the end of that time you decide you still love me and want to make it work, we’ll talk about it.” With the back of his hand, he wiped the tears away. “Go to Milan. Have fun. Send me a present.”

  “I’m not happy about this,” Chandra sniveled. “Next you’ll be asking me for the ring.”

  Her ring, platinum setting and all, had cost him a bundle. “Wearing it on your right hand might not be a bad idea until we get this thing resolved,” Beau suggested.

  “You bastard.”

  Just like that, her mood shifted again. Beau barely dodged the pillow she threw at him. The quick movement made his ribs ache. He’d like to believe Chandra’s reasons for sticking with him had to do with loyalty and love. But he wasn’t so sure of that. If he was truly honest about why he was still involved with her, he would be forced to admit she was right. He was a bastard and maybe he was using her for arm candy. Having a fiancée as good-looking as Chandra helped to validate what was left of his existence and made him feel alive.

  Yet a nuzzle here, a nip there, and lots of stroking didn’t cut it with a woman as highly sexed as Chandra. Never mind that even those few meager attempts had caused him agony. He knew he would have to do something about Chandra, and soon. Marry her or let her go. Right now marrying her didn’t hold much appeal. In the meantime, he would try doing things Shayna DaCosta’s way but that didn’t mean he had to be charming. Three weeks should give him enough time to know if he would ever walk again.

  There was a soft tapping on his door. Beau scowled. His agent had said he’d stop by. Usually that meant he’d heard from another company wanting to get out of their endorsement contract. He couldn’t deal with more bad news.

  “Go away,” Beau shouted.

  “We wouldn’t think of doing that,” his mother’s voice called.

  Chandra scooted off the bed, but not before showing him her pubes. “See what you’re missing?”

  Beau sighed. She buttoned her top buttons and straightened her skirt. His mother, Victoria, had that effect on her, turned her into an immediate lady. Beau hid a smile. His first since he’d been brought in by ambulance to Denver Rehabilitation Center.

  “Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Anderson,” Chandra greeted. She’d become the picture of decorum, even turning to smile at his parents as they entered.

  Arms open wide, she moved forward to kiss them. Victoria took a step back, skillfully evading her. No love lost between the two, still Chandra had always bent over backward to make a good impression with his parents. Beau didn’t know why. She made little effort to be gracious to anyone, unless she benefitted in some way. Beau had often thought it might have something to do with the Andersons’ social status. They knew everyone there was to know and were frequently featured in the Denver Times.

  Victoria didn’t need to work but she dabbled in high end real estate, making huge commissions. Ed, one of the city’s more prominent criminal attorneys, had earned a name winning some tough high-profile cases. While most of their money had been inherited, they’d made another small fortune through wise investments.

  Victoria now flashed Chandra a tight smile. “How are you, honey?” She stood safely out of reach.

  Ed, the more susceptible to Chandra’s charms, embraced her in a hug. “How’s my daughter-in-law to be?”

  Chandra sniffed. Her eyes brimmed over. “Beau’s trying to dump me.”

  “Beau?” His father shot him a questioning look. “What’s wrong with you, son?”

  Victoria simply shook a full head of blond hair out of her eyes and secured it back with one of her headbands. “You’re still wearing Beau’s ring,” she said pointedly.

  “That she is,” Beau confirmed, omitting that soon it would be on her right hand. He would have to do some serious thinking while Chandra was gone.

  An awkward silence descended. Beau used that time to reflect on how charmed his life had been ever since the Andersons had rescued him from that awful foster home, one of many he’d lived in. They’d adopted him at the ripe old age of ten, no easy feat for a white family with two kids of their own. The system being what it was, kids were usually placed with parents of similar race. But the Andersons had argued relentlessly that they had the desire and wherewithal to adopt a child, and didn’t care whether that child was pink, white, or green. Luckily they had the contacts and money to make Beau happen.

  He’d been one angry little boy when they’d first gotten him. He’d used his fists to settle most fights, and had a tendency to run away. As his scrapes became legendary, the Andersons kept getting summoned to the private school where he was enrolled. Finally they took the advice of his gym teacher and signed Beau up for skiing lessons. All that misdirected rage finally found an outlet. Beau, natural athlete that he was, mastered the sport and the rest was history.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Anderson,” Chandra said, bringing him firmly back to earth. “Beau wants to put our engagement on hold until I get back from Milan.”

  Victoria’s eyebrows shot to the ceiling. “You’re going to Milan and leaving Beau in the state that he’s in? No wonder he wants to…”

  Chandra bristled, a first for her in his mother’s presence. “Beau doesn’t seem to have a problem with me going.” Another slew of tears threatened to ruin her perfect makeup job.

  “A little separation might not be a bad idea,” Victoria said, her mood lightening considerably. His mother seemed happier than when she’d first arrived.

  “It might be good for you both,” Ed said, picking up on his wife’s cue.

  Although Chandra’s look was murderous, she held her tongue. She was not a stupid woman.

  Victoria began to talk nonstop. “Kelly and Jason send their regards, Beau. They’re both coming home to see you soon.”

  Beau grunted. “That would be nice.”

  “Nice, nothing. They’re your brother and sister. They care about
you.”

  Kelly, his older sister, had married a Japanese businessman and relocated to San Francisco. Jason, the perennial bachelor, was a successful investment banker who’d made Manhattan his home. Both had managed a visit occasionally, and were now overdue.

  “I’ve got to go, Beau-Beau,” Chandra piped up, twirling her fingers at him. She leaned over to plant a big wet one on his lips. “Love you.” The diamond twinkled on the finger of her left hand.

  Chandra plunged her tongue into his mouth but not before Beau noticed his mother’s twinge of pain. He nibbled gently, and then put her firmly away from him.

  “I really will miss you, Beau-Beau,” Chandra said, staring at him as though he was the one. The only one in her life.

  “Me too,” he said begrudgingly.

  His mother looked as if she had heartburn, and his father’s glasses had fogged up. Shell-shocked was the only way to describe the look on the older man’s face. Beau guessed they had gotten an eyeful of Chandra’s bare bottom and more. The lecture would come later from his mother. He couldn’t wait.

  Chapter Three

  Shayna glanced at the wall clock. Time ticked slowly by. Very slowly. Beau Hill was her next patient. She could hardly wait. She’d tried to liven up the vomit-green walls of the place with motivational posters. She’d placed potted plants in strategic positions, and added colorful cushions to the few pieces of furniture there were. Her goal had been to create the illusion of an upscale spa, but nothing could hide the ugliness of functional parallel bars, weights, and pulleys. Thank God for those lovely window walls.

  Shayna had rolled the blinds high, letting in the awesome outdoor scenery. Green at their base, the mountains remained snowcapped even in spring. That was Colorado for you.

  “Good job, Gail,” Shayna called, as Gail Mahoney, aided by a walker, slowly crossed the floor. The old lady was doing well but needed lots of stroking. Shayna continued to put Gail through her routine, observing her slow but steady pace. It was rewarding watching a patient progress from standing on her own, to taking her first tentative steps, unsteady and painful as those steps might be. Gail had never forgotten that precious moment and neither had Shayna.