Leah felt her heart drop. “It’s okay. I’m sorry I asked.”
“No, it’s not that I don’t want to hug you,” Owen protested. “I thought you might be uncomfortable. I mean, just wearing a sheet,” he finished in a low voice, his tan cheeks turning a dull red.
“Oh.” Leah bit her lip. “Well…does it bother you?”
“It’s not that it bothers me. I just… Oh, to hell with it, we’re acting like a couple of idiots. Come here.” He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close.
Leah gasped and then laughed at his sudden move. It reminded her of the way he used to pick her up when they were kids and swing her around until she was dizzy. She put her arms around him and hugged him tight, taking comfort in the feeling of his big, masculine body holding her so protectively and the warm scent of his skin.
“What’s so funny?” he murmured against her neck. His breath tickled her, making her laugh again.
“Nothing. I was thinking about the way you used to pick me up and swing me around when we were kids. Remember that?”
“Of course. How could I forget it? I’ve never forgotten anything about that time.” His voice was wistful, filled with regret, and Leah wondered if he missed the close relationship they’d had in the past as much as she did.
“I’ve never forgotten either,” she whispered. “Remember when you taught me to ride my first bike? And made me promise not to ride it down Dead Man’s Hill?”
“And you did it anyway.” Owen pulled back and gave her a look of mocking reproof. “And fell off and skinned the hell out of both your knees and one of your elbows…”
“And I came to you, crying my eyes out,” Leah continued. “I didn’t want to tell Mom or Dad, because I knew they would ground me and take away my bike for at least a month. Which is an eternity when you’re little.”
“So we had to smuggle you into the bathroom to clean you up. And the whole time I had my hand over your mouth to keep you from howling.” Owen’s eyes were dancing now, and Leah found she was grinning at him. “And then—”
“And then you healed me,” she finished for him softly. “Like you always did. Like you always do.”
“Oh, Leah,” he murmured, looking into her eyes.
Leah looked back, and for a moment she was filled with the same rightness she’d felt in the strange, golden dream. If I kissed him now, it wouldn’t be wrong. It would be perfectly right, perfectly natural… Then she realized what she was thinking. How could she even consider such a thing? Especially knowing how conflicted Owen was about their relationship? She could already tell from the look in his eyes he was upset. The fondness and affection had faded, to be replaced by guilt and then a cold detachment she knew only too well.
“Well…” He took a deep breath and looked away. “I have to get going. I have a lot to do.” His voice was distant, as though he was already out of the house and at work—mentally at least—and no longer in the moment with her.
Leah was disappointed that their reconciliation seemed to be over, but she supposed it was only to be expected. After all, Owen wasn’t going to get over his habit of pushing her away overnight—if he ever got over it at all. She couldn’t expect him to suddenly be ready to resume the relationship they’d had as kids just because she wanted him to.
“Okay,” she said softly. “See you tonight, then, I guess.”
“Maybe. If I don’t have to work late.” He still wouldn’t look at her. “I have an extra key. I’ll leave it on the dresser for you before I go. That way you can let yourself in and out if I’m not here, which I’m usually not.”
Meaning I shouldn’t expect to see very much of you now that you’ve decided to make yourself scarce again. “Okay,” she said again. What else could she say?
“Fine. Well, I really need to get going.” He was already getting off the bed and heading for the shower without so much as a backward glance.
Leah sighed. He’s probably being sweet because he was so worried about me last night when I got sick. Now that he knows I’m okay, he’s decided it’s safer to keep me at an arm’s length again. Well, so much for old-home week. It was time she got going herself, especially if she expected to get her luggage and find her way to USF for her two o’clock with Professor Dobrev.
But she couldn’t help wishing that the sweet moment between her and Owen had lasted just a little longer. Being held in his arms again had felt so right. And who knew when she would ever get that feeling again?
Chapter Six
The staff meeting was over, and Owen was getting ready for morning rounds when the new surgical resident from Atlanta came up to him.
“Jael Hawkins,” he said, sticking out a hand. “Hope you don’t mind, but I’ve been assigned to shadow you a few days.”
“Not at all.” Owen took the offered hand and pumped it firmly, assessing the other man. Jael was an inch or two taller than Owen’s six-two and looked like he hit the weights regularly. His skin was a rich mahogany color, but his eyes were a striking pale green that probably made the nurses in the OR weak in the knees.
“Just until I get my bearings,” Jael said apologetically. “I promise I won’t cramp your style.”
“Hey, it’s okay.” Owen gave him a friendly smile. “I was new once too, you know. So, Atlanta, right?” he asked, pointing at Jael.
The other man nodded. “That’s right. Hotlanta all the way.”
“So what made you decide to come down here? It can’t be the weather. Tampa’s even more hot and humid than Atlanta, and that’s saying something.”
“Well, you know…” Jael shrugged, massive shoulders rolling beneath the blue scrub top he wore. “I got a good offer from TGH. That and…personal reasons.”
“Running from something?” Owen wondered what had made him ask such a personal question. But the other man didn’t take offense. He just laughed ruefully.
“More like someone.”
“Ex-wife?”
“Nah, it never got that far.” They were walking down one of the long corridors of the hospital, Owen leading the way. “She wanted it to, of course,” Jael continued. “But we were bad for each other. More like, I thought I was bad for her. So I had to go. You know how it is.”
“Yeah, actually, I do.” For some reason the thought of Leah flashed through his mind. “You mind if we stop at my office? I need to get my jacket.”
Jael spread his hands. “Hey, I’ve got nothing but time. Whatever, man.”
“Great.” They went down the elevators and through a few more long color-coded hallways until Owen opened the door to the small office he kept at TGH. He was reaching for his white lab jacket hanging on the back of the door when he heard Jael give a long, low whistle.
“Whoa. Your wife is a real looker.”
“What?” Frowning, he saw the other man had picked up a framed picture and was looking at it appreciatively.
“Oh, that?” Tucking his jacket under his arm, he came around the desk to take the silver-framed photo. “No, that’s not my wife. I’m not married. That’s Leah, my little sister.” It was a picture his mother had sent him a year or two ago, one in which Leah was smiling into the camera with the sun setting behind her, turning her long hair to molten gold. She had on a blue sweater a shade or two darker than her eyes, and her cheeks were flushed with laughter. Owen didn’t know why he kept it. To torture himself maybe? To remind him of what he could never have? But he did have to admit it was a gorgeous shot of Leah. She looked absolutely radiant. No wonder Jael had remarked on it.
“Your sister, huh?” Jael raised one eyebrow. “All right. Maybe you can introduce me sometime.”
“I don’t know.” Owen was surprised at the sudden stab of jealousy he felt. “I, uh, I think she might be seeing someone right now. Or else she just broke up with him.”
“All right, then. I’m not into being the rebound guy.” Jael smiled. “She’s gorgeous, though. “You tell her I said so.”
“Sure.” Owen nodded. “She’s stayi
ng with me for a while,” he added, not sure why he was giving away such a personal detail. “Until she can find a place of her own.”
Jael frowned. “Where is she looking? I’ve been trying to find something myself, and let me tell you, there are some pretty nasty places in this city. If I were you, I’d keep her close—so you can protect her, you know?”
“Yeah, I know. That’s actually what I want to do,” Owen admitted. “She’s really independent, though. I don’t know how long she’ll stay.”
“Well, let her know she’s wanted. Tell her you appreciate her. Maybe bring her some flowers. That kind of thing.”
Owen raised an eyebrow. “Uh, she’s my sister. Not some girl I’m trying to get to marry me.”
“Yeah, well…” Jael shrugged. “All I’m saying is a lady is a lady. Treat her right, and she’ll want to stay. Right?”
“Yeah, I guess.” Owen nodded, and for some reason the cold way he’d left Leah that morning came to his mind. He’d been so freaked-out by the look in her eyes—almost as though she wanted to kiss him as much as he wanted to kiss her. But that was crazy, wasn’t it? Crazy or not, it had caused him to withdraw and treat her coldly again. “Well, we’d better get going,” he said, trying to shake off the disquieting memory.
Jael made an expansive gesture. “After you, Doctor.”
Owen smiled. “Thanks.”
They walked in silence for a moment, and he couldn’t help pondering Jael’s advice. After all, no matter how anxious their little encounter when they had first woken up that morning had made him, he still didn’t want to lose the ground he’d gained with Leah. He wanted to keep her in his life, no matter how hard it was going to be to ignore his illicit desires. He hadn’t realized how much he missed her company until she showed up at his doorstep. The idea of losing her again was dismal. Unthinkable. Maybe I should bring her flowers. Try to get away from this place early and take her out someplace nice…
Owen shook his head. He couldn’t do any of that. Leah would certainly suspect his secret if he started making such silly, romantic gestures. He had to keep this low-key and be careful. If he started showing how he felt for her, he might be more inclined to act on it, and that would be disastrous. But then what could he do to show her he cared?
It was a dilemma, and Owen spent the rest of the walk to morning rounds thinking about it.
* * *
The anthropology department at USF had an excellent staff, and Professor Elloria Dobrev was one of the most distinguished academics in her field. Leah was both nervous and excited to meet her.
Back when she’d first come up with the harebrained scheme of packing everything up and moving cross country, she’d been sure she would never be able to find a place at USF on such short notice. After all, she still had to go through the whole doctoral application process with them. What were the chances she’d find a professor willing to take an unknown student on as a TA in the meantime? But there had been no harm in trying, and to her grateful astonishment, Professor Dobrev had been more than encouraging.
Come take a few classes while you go through the application process, she’d written Leah in an e-mail. I’ll make you my personal TA. I warn you, though, I’m going to make you earn your keep. You can teach my dreaded intro to anthro classes, which are inevitably full of bored freshmen looking for an easy credit.
Leah was apprehensive about teaching, but she knew she’d have to do it eventually. All doctoral candidates were required to. But she was brimming with excitement over working with such a renowned academic.
Nervously she smoothed down the white silk blouse and slightly wrinkled gray skirt she’d managed to rescue from the depths of her suitcase. Getting her luggage at Tampa International had taken longer than she’d thought, so she’d had to rush getting ready for her first appointment with her new mentor.
Well, here goes nothing. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on the plain wooden door with a rectangular plaque that read, E. DOBREV, ANTHROPOLOGY.
“Come in,” said a firm, no-nonsense voice.
“Professor Dobrev?” Leah stuck her head in first, hesitantly. Sitting at a large wooden desk overflowing with paperwork was a slender woman with intense brown eyes. She had a short, shiny cap of dark brown hair and a direct air about her. When she saw Leah, her thin but shapely lips curved up into a welcoming smile.
“You must be Leah. Welcome!”
“Thank you.” Leah smiled back and stepped in, then closed the door behind her.
“Come on over.” The professor beckoned impatiently. “Don’t mind the mess. Just step over the piles and have a seat.”
Leah did as she said, carefully picking her way around the disorganized room. There were, in fact, piles of books, papers, and various artifacts strewn all over the place, as though the contents of Professor Dobrev’s entire academic career had exploded and settled around her office in random stacks. “Thank you so much for offering me a position,” Leah said, settling on the edge of a straight-backed wooden chair across from the messy desk. “It was very kind of you to take a chance on me.”
The professor steepled elegant fingers under her sharply pointed chin. “Well, I think your academic record speaks for itself. I’m happy to have you. Besides, those intro to anthropology classes aren’t going to teach themselves.”
Leah laughed. “I know I’ll be teaching, but I hope I’ll get to help out with your research too. I think the work you’re doing on religious folklore is fascinating.”
“Go on.” Dobrev grinned at her. “Flattery will get you everywhere. Is there a specific area you’re interested in?”
“Well…I read your paper on the origins of angel mythology in Islamic tradition. It was excellent but somewhat limited.” Leah bit her lip. “I hope you don’t mind my saying that.”
“Of course not. It was meant to be limited. But I’m working on a much broader topic right now.”
“I know,” Leah said eagerly. “Your upcoming comparative analysis of the angel mythos throughout history, right? I was hoping to help with some of it.”
“I’ll be more than happy to put you to work on the research end of it.” Dobrev smiled. “Every culture and religion has its own idea of what angels look like and what they do, and the ideas keep changing throughout the ages. Are you familiar with the Celestial Hierarchy?”
“By St. Bonaventure, right? Back in the Middle Ages, he classified the ranks of angels into three distinct spheres of influence or ‘choirs’: the epiphania, the hyperphania, and the hypophania.”
The professor nodded. “Very good. I’m impressed. But did you know that the choirs in the second and third spheres of the present hierarchical list appear to be united in pairs?”
“Pairs of angels?” A quick mental image of two feathered beings standing before a golden door flashed through her mind. Leah shook her head, trying to clear it. “Uh, no. I’d never heard of that before. Are they divided according to what their jobs are, so to speak?”
Professor Dobrev leaned forward. “Yes, but they aren’t just colleagues; they are lovers.”
Leah frowned. “Lovers? But I thought most religions agree that angels are sexless.”
“Not at all. In fact, there are a few legends that go into detail about how very, um, sexually active our celestial feathered friends can be. Hang on.” The professor dug under a mound of papers for a moment, muttering, “Now where did I put it?” Finally she pulled out a slim, leather-bound volume. The leather was sky blue, and golden wings were embossed on the front cover. “Here,” she said, handing it over to Leah.
“It’s beautiful,” Leah said, handling the book carefully. It appeared to be quite old.
“What’s inside is more interesting than the cover, I can promise you that,” Dobrev said drily. “Why don’t you take it home and study it? We can discuss it next time we meet.”
“Oh, but I don’t want to take away your research materials,” Leah objected, but the professor shook her head.
“Go ahead, I
insist. Consider it homework.”
“Well, okay. Thank you so much.” Leah tucked the slim volume into her purse. “Is there anything else you’d like me to do?”
“Tons.” The professor smiled charmingly. “I also have a packet for you about teaching those classes. How I want the grading handled and so forth. Unfortunately I left it at home. So if you could come back tomorrow to get it…?”
“Oh, sure, no problem,” Leah said quickly. “The only other thing I’m doing is looking for someplace to stay. I’m with my brother now, but I don’t know how long that arrangement is going to last.”
Dobrev frowned, a vertical wrinkle appearing between her pointed eyebrows. “Hmm. Well, I wish you luck, but I think almost everything near the campus is taken. I heard one of my postgrad students say the only thing left was some on-campus housing. But unless you want to be living with the freshmen you’re teaching…”
Leah couldn’t help making a face. “Ugh, undergrads.” Living on campus with a bunch of rowdy freshmen, whose idea of a good time was frat parties and beer-bong contests into the wee hours, was not her idea of fun.
“I know.” Dobrev tsk-tsked sympathetically. “But we were all undergrads once. From such lowly slugs eventually rise the brilliant butterflies that are your humble professors.” She turned sideways and gestured at her narrow back. “See my wings?”
For a split second, Leah actually thought she did see wings. Huge white ones with sleek feathers. Then she blinked, and the vision was gone, leaving golden spots dancing before her eyes as though she’d been staring at the sun.
“Hey, are you okay?” Professor Dobrev eyed her anxiously. “You have the strangest expression on your face, as though you’d just seen a ghost.”
Or maybe an angel. But that was a crazy thought, and Leah pushed it away. “Uh…” She laughed weakly. “Sorry, I just had a dizzy spell there for a minute. I caught something on the plane coming over here. Maybe I’m not completely over it.”
Dobrev frowned. “Maybe you should skip the house hunting today and go home and lie down.”
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