Eye of the Tiger

by Diana Palmer

  Sleep well, my darling, she thought tenderly. She had to force herself to go out the door and leave him. But he hadn’t known what he was saying, of course. It was just the aftereffects of all he’d been through.

  Gene was back just before three, as Eleanor was going off duty. She told him how Keegan was and mentioned that he was asleep. He said he’d wait until she gave her report and buy her a cup of coffee. She almost refused, but he looked so alone.

  “Okay,” she relented. “I’ll be back in ten minutes. Meet you in the canteen.”

  Quickly she gave her report and went off duty. Gene was sitting at a table in the small canteen just beyond the waiting rooms.

  “It’s been a long day,” he said with a smile.

  “I can imagine.” She stared into her coffee cup. “He’s better, but still weak. But tomorrow he’ll be screaming to get out of here. You wait and see.”

  “I’ll enjoy hearing him scream, after this,” he told her. He leaned back in his chair and studied her drawn face. “Still hurts, does it?” he asked levelly.

  She lifted her chin. “I’m over all that,” she declared.

  “Bull,” he replied pleasantly. “Not much, you aren’t, judging by the way you came running this morning when I called you. You were as horrified as I was, professional training and all.”

  She smiled miserably. “I guess I was,” she admitted. “He’s a very special man.”

  “I think so. He’s been spoiled rotten, of course,” he told her with a rakish grin. “I’m not sorry, either. I came up rough. I never had anything. So I made up for it with him. If his mother hadn’t died giving birth to him, all that might have been different. But after I lost her, he became my whole world. I’d have done anything for him.” He sipped coffee. “Women have done their share of spoiling, too, though.”

  “Yes.” She sighed.

  He studied her lowered face. “He used to talk about you all the time, after you left Lexington,” he commented.

  Her face lifted involuntarily, her dark eyes quiet and curious. “Did he?”

  “I thought it odd at the time,” he confessed, “especially in view of the fact that he’d only taken you out that one time. He was engaged to Lorraine, too. Yet you were the one he talked about.”

  She sighed. “I found out why he took me out. It was to bring Lorraine up to par, to make her accept his proposal. He manipulated both of us, and it worked.”

  “Did it? Oh, he got Lorraine all right. But once he had her, he couldn’t get rid of her fast enough. He drove her away, Eleanor. He neglected her, ignored her, deliberately baited her until she broke off the engagement.”

  Her heart began to race. “I hurt his conscience,” she said tightly. “He said so.”

  “He manipulated you both, but it backfired,” he said. His blue eyes searched her face. “He cared about you. He really cared. It was a shame you left town when you did.”

  He couldn’t know how that hurt. But she smiled in spite of the pain. “Think so?” she asked, toying with her coffee cup. “Perhaps it was just an attack of guilt.”

  “Who knows?” he said, watching her. “Don’t let that Irish filly drag him off to the altar, Eleanor. She wants him, and he may decide he’s got nothing else to hold him here.”

  “It would be a good match, though, don’t you think?” she commented, even though it was killing her to admit it. “She’s wealthy and well-bred, and she’d fit into his world very well.”

  “And you don’t think you would?” he shot at her, blue eyes flashing. “Balderdash! I didn’t raise my boy to be a snob, Eleanor, and neither am I. You’re more than welcome in my home any time, in any way. And don’t start throwing that line at me about just being the carpenter’s daughter. It won’t wash with me!”

  “Ferocious old thing, aren’t you?” She laughed.

  “You bet, when it comes to social warfare.” He finished his coffee. “I like you, girl. You’ve got style and a temper to match my son’s.”

  “I like you, too,” she replied. “I have to get home and feed Dad. You’ll, uh, let me know if there’s any change?” she added hesitantly.

  He searched her concerned eyes. “Sure. Care to come back and sit with him tonight?”

  She wanted to, desperately. But she shook her head. “You’ll do him more good than I will,” she said softly. “I’ll see you in the morning. Take care. Of both of you.”

  He nodded. “Thanks again for all you’ve done.”

  “I’ve only done my job,” she demurred. Smiling at him, she put the empty cup in the trash can and left.

  It was a long night. She paced and paced, until her father mentioned that she might have a game of chess with him. That made it worse, reminded her of Keegan and happier times.

  “Go see him, for God’s sake, if you’re that worried,” Barnett suggested.

  “I’m not worried!” she snapped.

  He shook his head, grinning. “He’s tough. He’ll be all right. Gene said so. He came by earlier to tell me how Keegan was getting on. Said he didn’t know which of the three of you looked worse when the ambulance got there. He was afraid you were going to flake out, too, when you saw Keegan.”

  “He looked pretty bad,” she mumbled evasively.

  “I imagine so. He’ll probably never eat his own cooking again,” he added dryly. “I’m glad the boy’s all right. I’m rather fond of him.”

  So was Eleanor. All too fond. But she said nothing.

  Keegan was sitting up in bed when she went on duty the next morning, still pale but bristling with impatience to get on his feet again.

  “It’s about time you showed up,” he grumbled as she walked into the room. His blue eyes glared up at her. “I’ve been awakened from a sound sleep and forcibly bathed by some horrible old woman with cold hands, I’ve been poked and prodded by a doctor, some-one came and took half my blood with a horrible long needle…. Where were you?”

  She had to fight down laughter. “I’ve been at home sleeping, of course,” she replied, going to the bed. “You look much better today. How do you feel?”

  “Empty,” he said shortly. “How about a steak? On second thought, how about a whole steer?”

  She checked his chart and smiled. “Nope. Liquids and semisolids today. If that stays down all right, then we’ll see about something more substantial.”

  “Conspiracy,” he accused. “You and that doctor are in league together.”

  “Of course.” She curtsied. “We’re your professional health-care team. We have to take good care of you.”

  “You’re starving me to death, that’s what you’re doing.”

  “Eating is what got you here in the first place,” she reminded him. “Here.” She stuck the thermometer in his mouth while she took his pulse. He looked up at her, at the neat fit of her white uniform. His piercing eyes paused on her breasts, and she felt his pulse jump as she took it.

  By the time she got to his blood pressure, his watchful gaze was frankly disturbing. She was glad no one was taking her pulse!

  She finished reading vitals and jotted them down on his chart.

  “When do I get out of here?” he demanded.

  “Not today,” she said cheerfully. “How about something to read?”

  He sighed in frustration. “Dad will bring the Wall Street Journal in when he comes.”

  She lifted an eyebrow. “Well, we do have a local daily paper in Lexington, you know.”

  “I know who did what,” he told her. “The only reason people read the paper is to find out who got caught at it.”

  “Cynic,” she accused.

  “I’ve got more reason to be cynical than most,” he responded. “God, you look sweet in that uniform,” he added softly.

  She avoided looking directly at him. “Would you like something to drink?” she asked.

  “The ministering angel of mercy,” he said with a smile. “Yes, it suits you. You always did care about people, even when you were a kid. You were forever patching up one
of your playmates.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Your father. We talk about you a lot,” he replied, folding his arms over his bare chest. The sheet had slid down around his lean waist, and she was almost sure he didn’t have pajamas on under it.

  “You’re supposed to be wearing a hospital gown,” she told him.

  “What for?” he asked lazily. “I sleep raw at home, and this is a private room.”

  “We have candy stripers here,” she said. “Young girls who don’t exactly need the kind of education they’d get if they came in when you were on your way to the bathroom.”

  He raised an eyebrow, noticing the way she averted her eyes from his hair-covered chest and muscular stomach. “Do I bother you this way?”

  “I went through four years of nurse’s training.” She looked directly at him. “And I have seen you without your clothes once, if you remember.”

  “Bravo, honey,” he murmured gently. “Do you realize that’s the first time you’ve ever brought the subject up by yourself?”

  “As you said once, it was a long time ago,” she replied.

  “Not so long that I can forget it,” he said quietly. He searched her dark eyes. “You haunt me.”

  “Hire an exorcist,” she suggested, then checked her watch. “I have to run. We’re overloaded with patients today. Mostly women.” She grinned at him. “I imagine they’ve all come up with various illnesses just because they heard you were a patient.”

  He smiled, and it warmed her like sunshine. “Think so?” he asked.

  “Oh, definitely.”

  “Do you have to go?” he asked as she paused at the door.

  “Afraid so. I’m the assistant floor nurse these days. That means if the supervisor is missing, my head rolls in her place.” She grinned.

  He tilted his head. “Such a pretty head to meet such a horrible fate,” he remarked. “Wouldn’t you rather sit and hold my hand instead?”

  “Miss O’Clancy will do that for you, I’m sure,” she said with admirable indifference. “If you need anything, ring the buzzer.”

  “I need you,” he said softly. “Will you come if I call?”

  “Only in case of emergency.” She laughed. “See you later.”

  It was an oddly satisfying day. She popped in and out of Keegan’s room as time permitted, and he flirted outrageously with her. She ignored his provocative remarks, though, and was completely professional in her behavior. He seemed puzzled as he watched her go about her duties, competent and secure in a position of responsibility. For once he was on the receiving end of the orders, and she saw him smile at the irony of their reversed positions.

  “You’re different here,” he remarked just after his dinner had been served and Eleanor cleared the dishes away to take his vital signs again. “Very much the career girl. Do you enjoy it?”

  “The responsibility gets heavy from time to time,” she confessed. “But, yes, I do enjoy it.”

  “You run all the time,” he grumbled as she finished with him and tucked her pen back into her pocket.

  “I have to,” she said, smiling at him. “I have a lot of patients on this floor sicker than you are. There’s a heart attack in 4B, and a bleeding ulcer in 4F, and I’ve got an appendectomy next door, pneumonia down the hall…”

  “I get the general idea,” he said dryly. “Come here.”

  Her heart leaped, but she managed a smile. “Why?”

  “Because I asked you to,” he replied.

  “Sorry. We’re not allowed to fraternize with the patients,” she told him.

  “I don’t want to fraternize,” he replied, and grinned wickedly. “I just want to drag you down here and let you take my pulse again.”

  The image made her smile. “Lecher,” she scolded, shaking her head. “Behave yourself, or I’ll send Nurse Wren after you.”

  He shuddered. “God forbid!”

  “Then mind your manners,” she ordered, backing toward the door, “or I’ll… Oops!”

  “Oh, excuse me,” Maureen O’Clancy said sweetly as she opened the door right into Eleanor. “I’m sorry, Nurse, I didn’t see you!”

  Chapter Nine

  Forcing a smile to her lips was the hardest thing Eleanor had ever done. But she managed it.

  “No harm done,” she said sweetly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll get back to my paperwork.”

  “Amazing, that you can find time to visit the patients,” Maureen said as sweetly, her blue eyes flashing.

  “Visiting them is my job,” Eleanor reminded her. “And despite the posted visiting hours, we don’t like our patients to get too tired,” she added in her best floor nurse’s tone. “Good day.”

  “Well…!” Maureen said haughtily as the door closed.

  Eleanor couldn’t help smiling as she strode down the hall. There was something about that Irish girl…

  “Phone call, love!” Darcy called to her from the desk. “It’s your Mr. Granger, I think.”

  “Finally, a bright spot in my day.” Eleanor laughed as she took the receiver from her friend’s outstretched hand.

  “I heard that,” Wade drawled in her ear. “Have you missed me? I just heard about Keegan. How is he?”

  “Reviving nicely, and at the moment being cuddled and cooed over by his Irish girlfriend,” she replied carelessly.

  “If I were in his place, I’d settle for you, pretty girl.” He laughed. “How about dinner tonight? I’ll take you out for spaghetti.”

  “I’d love it!” she said enthusiastically. “What time?”

  “Pick you up at six.”

  “I’ll look forward to it. Bye.”

  She hung up and hummed a tune as she dealt with supply sheets. Minutes later, Maureen O’Clancy marched past the desk with her nose looking definitely out of joint. She didn’t even spare Eleanor a glance as she left the hospital.

  “Well,” Darcy huffed, “what was that all about?”

  “I don’t know. Uh-oh, looks like she upset our patient,” Eleanor added, glancing at the board: Keegan’s light was on. “I’d better go and see about him.”

  She found him lying back on his pillows looking grim, his arms folded defensively over his chest. He glanced up as she entered the room.

  “What kept you?” he snapped at her. “I want my clothes. Now!”

  “What brought this on?” she asked.

  He sat up straighter. “That Irish bounder O’Clancy is about to talk my father out of Straightaway. For God’s sake, he won the Preakness last year, I don’t want him sold! And Dad’s a sucker for a sob story. O’Clancy will have him charmed if I don’t get home!”

  “Why not phone your father and talk to him?” she suggested.

  “That won’t help,” he said curtly. “Just get my clothes.”

  Eleanor leaned back against the door with a sigh. “Do be reasonable. You’re just barely off the IV. You’re too weak to be running around yet. Besides, are you sure it’s the truth, about Maureen’s father, I mean? Perhaps Maureen just wants you home again.”

  Saying that was a mistake. “Do you think so, honey?” he asked softly, his eyes cold and angry. “Maybe it’ll be refreshing to have a woman want me for a change.”

  “Then by all means, we’ll send you home as soon as Dr. Welder says we can release you,” she replied acidly. “But for now… What are you doing?”

  He was climbing out of bed, that’s what he was doing, and without a stitch of clothing on his body. He faltered a little, then he straightened and went directly toward Eleanor.

  She tried not to look. Arrow-straight body, hair-roughened chest and stomach and thighs, powerful long legs, powerful shoulders without the camouflage of clothing. He was beautiful.

  He stopped just in front of her, breathing a little heavily from the exertion. “My clothes,” he said quietly. “Or I’ll walk out just the way I am.”

  Eleanor swallowed. “I don’t have the authority to release you,” she said.

  He put his hands agai
nst the door on either side of her head and searched her soft dark eyes with his. “Every time I do this, you fight. Or you run. You won’t even give me a chance, will you?”

  “As you just observed, it might be refreshing to have a woman want you for a change,” she said softly. “You might as well give Maureen a whirl, Keegan. She’d fit very well into your life.”

  Gently he fingered a strand of her honey-brown hair, testing its silkiness. “Snob,” he murmured.

  “I’m realistic,” she corrected.

  “Is that what you call it?” He hesitated, searching her eyes for a response. “Ellie, could we kiss each other just once without any coercion at all, do you think? Just for old times’ sake?”

  “I’m on duty,” she protested weakly.

  “You don’t have anything to be afraid of,” he said softly. “Not anything at all. Just close your eyes, little one, and let me do it all this time.”

  There were a thousand reasons why she shouldn’t have listened, but she couldn’t think of a single one. Instead she reached her arms up and slid them around his neck, seeing the shock in his blue eyes before they closed and his mouth settled softly on her lips.

  “Yes,” he whispered hungrily. His arms slid past her waist, bringing her against the length of his bare, warm body. “Yes, that’s it, open your mouth….”

  She did, letting his tongue probe inside and tangle with her own, feeling the hardness of his body, the sudden heat of him as he pinned her against the door.

  “Eleanor,” he breathed. His hips moved against her in undeniable need and urgency, and the kiss grew even more passionate—open mouths mingling fiercely together, voices breathing harshly, soft moans.

  Eleanor whimpered as the old magic worked on her, as she felt her breasts crushing against his chest, her body aching to join with his. Her hands moved, searching out hard muscle and smooth flesh, working their way down his body, learning it with fingers that trembled softly.

  “Yes,” he groaned, drawing back, inviting her caresses. “Yes, touch me,” he whispered shakily, opening his eyes to search hers. “Touch all of me, baby.”