by Sable Hunter
“Yes, it does. There’s also a big boat of gravy on the stove. Do you want some?”
“Yes, please. Just a little”
“Hattie told me to tell you that she’s thankful you are okay.” He returned to the table with the warm gravy. “Over everything?”
Angelina pointed to her potatoes. “Here and a little on the side. I have to watch my calories.”
He snorted. “I heard you say something about being fat. I’m a doctor and I’m health conscious. I’m also a man and I can tell you unequivocally that you are made just the way a woman is supposed to be made.” He poured the gravy over the potatoes and a drizzle over the turkey. “There, let’s celebrate.”
Drew joined her at the table and she followed his example, taking a bite. “Mmmmmm, this is absolutely divine.”
“The corn and potatoes came from my garden and the parsnips from a neighbor. Have you ever had them before?”
“No, I haven’t, actually.”
“Well, you’re in for a treat, they are a personal favorite of mine. Also, be sure to save room for pie.”
“Dessert, too?”
Drew pointed to the fresh pie on the buffet. “Hattie picked the apples from a tree out back. A few of the horses might be a bit cross with you, those are their apples, the best ones on the property. You’re worth it, however, I’ll vouch for you with the animals.”
“I appreciate the vote of confidence.” He was being so nice to her, she thought she might cry. “This is all just so much. I can’t thank you enough, Drew.”
“It’s entirely my pleasure. It’s nice to have someone here with me. Hattie uses this as her headquarters, but she has dozens of commitments. She even volunteers at the nursing home on Tuesdays. Mostly I work and just rattle around this old house by myself. As far as the meal, I’d love to take some credit, but this was a Hattie Oliver production all the way.”
“I’d like to thank her. Will we see her after dinner?”
“Oh, no. Hattie is at her knitting circle. I wouldn’t be surprised if she shows up with a pair of socks just for you. I’m afraid it’s just you and me tonight.”
“Maybe we could read the end of a few books?” Angelina was pleased with herself when Drew had a laugh at her words. The meal was exceptional. And despite her concerns about her weight, Angelina conceded when he insisted she have a slice of pie.
After they were through, he quickly loaded the dishwasher, refusing her offer of help. She sat on the far side of the table, making small talk with him and trying to keep from eyeing how sexy his backside looked in the tight Wranglers he wore. She wasn’t experiencing much discomfort and Angelina wondered if the heavy meal had a tranquilizing effect. Once he’d hung up the towel, he gave her a smile. “I’m going to make a quick call, I need to check on a patient before it gets much later. Why don’t you slip into something more comfortable?”
When Angelina literally gulped, Drew changed his tactic, noting that his libido was susceptible to his own suggestion. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s getting late and I just thought you might want to get out of the clothes you’ve worn all day. Either way, just meet me in the den when you’re ready, and we’ll visit for a while.”
As she hurried back to her room, Angelina debated whether this was a good idea. Being around him wasn’t the easiest thing. Perhaps she should look at it like a desensitizing exercise. Maybe if they spent enough time together, she’d cease burning with desire every time she looked at him. Standing at the open suitcase full of clothes Cooper had loaned her, Angelina chose a pair of gray jogging pants and a red T-shirt. “Yea, this should keep him off me,” she said with a sigh, doing a twirl in front of the mirror on her dresser. The casual clothes were loose and masked Angelina’s curves quite well.
Angelina made her way to the first floor slowly, noting the wall sconces and portraits of people she assumed to be his ancestors. If they were, none of them were nearly as handsome. When she came to the den, the door was closed. Knowing it was silly, she couldn’t resist asking, “Are you decent?”
“Never,” he called back, “but you can come in anyway.”
The door had no handle and it took Angelina a moment to figure out it was a pocket door. She slid it aside, into its slot in the wall. Drew was seated in a large leather chair when she entered.
“Installing the pocket door was one of the few things the heritage society let me change about the house. Even that was a hassle to get approved. Come in and have a seat.” He indicated a matching chair across from him.
“I see you’ve read the end of a lot of books.” She looked over the room, seeing the big shelves full of every kind of book imaginable.
“A lot of these are books my father owned. He collected medical journals and encyclopedias.” He stood and she followed him to the shelves. “He spent more time in this room than anywhere else. I guess I slowly took it over through the years, but most of these are his. Dad saw a lot of patients here in the house. He had another room specifically designed for examinations, but I’ll be honest with you, a lot of times, a person’s issues aren’t physical. People can work themselves up over things they hear and read, especially nowadays with the internet. My dad would bring folks in here for a talk. He’d pull a textbook off the shelf and sit down with them. ‘See here’ he’d say, ‘it says right here that you don’t have the plague. I know that neighbor of yours said you probably have it, but this book says all you have is psoriasis. You’re not dying today.’”
Angelina laughed at his story.
“No, don’t laugh, that actually happened. Horace Ripple was one of dad’s regular patients. He was an older fella, a little senile. He had a neighbor, a nasty woman named Freda Dunkirk. Great big ol’ Scottish woman, us kids would steer clear of Ms. Dunkirk’s house on the way home from school. One time I convinced Ky and Ty to go knock on her door. I told them she probably wasn’t home. Man, we probably weren’t more than eight or nine years old. Don’t ask me why I came up with the idea to knock on her door, just a case of kids being foolish, I guess. Anyway, Ty gets up there with Ky right behind him, those boys would walk through fire for each other, that’s how they’ve always been. Ty knocked on the door and nothing happened. So of course, Ky goes to do it too, he can’t let his brother get ahead of him. Right when he’s about to knock, the door swings open and mean Ms. Dunkirk is standing there with a big wooden spoon in her hand. She took a swing at Ky with it.”
Angelina put a hand over her mouth. “Oh, my word!”
“She cracked Ky right over the right eye, gave him a big welt. Of course, he couldn’t tell his folks what happened, so he said Ty did it to him with a book. Poor rascals, they were grounded for a week for fighting.”
“Was she really that mean? Or just misunderstood?”
“Let’s have a seat, shall we?” Once they were situated, Drew continued with his tale. “She was a mean witch for sure and Horace was a genuine hypochondriac, very susceptible to suggestion. He was also a simple fella, never went past the third grade. Who knows? He might’ve had early onset dementia. Ms. Dunkirk took advantage of those things, she took some evil delight in getting Horace all worked up, convincing him he was going to die any second. My father went up to her place one day and reamed her out about it. He told her he wouldn’t treat her unless she stopped picking on poor Horace.” He paused for a breath, staring into the fire.
“Did she quit?”
Drew laughed. “Yea, she had a bad case of the gout herself and needed Dad herself every once in a while. Oh well, the life of a country doctor.”
Drew had changed into a pair of lounge pants and a Longhorn T-shirt that showed the width of his chest and shoulders. He didn’t look overly muscled, not like some of the pretty boys who spent hours in the gym pumping iron. Drew had thick forearms and a broad torso. He looked like every ounce of strength he’d acquired served a purpose. Angelina imagined he could sling bundles of hay onto a trailer for hours without breaking a sweat, or press her against a wall and li
ft her up to…
Whoa! She clutched the arms of the chair, sensual heat stealing her breath. “Horace isn’t the only one. I guess our imaginations can get the best of us sometimes.”
Drew smiled at the stories running through his brain. “You wouldn’t believe some of the things I’ve seen. One of my patients was the father of a college age son. When Jeremy went off to school, Roger bought his wife a little terrier to give themselves something to worry about other than their empty nest. He and his wife fell in love with that dog, a heck of a lot more than they expected. They named him Oscar. When Roger came in for a colonoscopy, I gave him a light sedative. When he was through, Jeremy came after him. He wasn’t fully awake and Jeremy asked him if he knew who Jeremy was and…” Drew paused for effect. “Roger said, ‘Yes, I know who you are, you’re Oscar’s brother.’”
“Oh, no! Poor Jeremy!”
Before long, Drew’s stories had her in stitches. The laughter actually hurt her at a few points, but she was happy to feel normal again.
“Well, I thank you for sitting for a spell and listening to my stories, Dr. Montoya. I see by the hands on the old clock on the mantel, that it’s getting quite late. Would you like for me to come to your room and help you get the IV into place?”
“No, I can do it.”
“Do you think the flushes are helping?” he asked.
She nodded. “I think so.” She hoped so.
“We’ll know more when I get the results of your tests tomorrow. I plan on conferring with another doctor or two, especially the one who’s been treating the other women who were kidnapped with you.”
Angelina nodded. “I hope you are able to come to some conclusions. I’m ready to be just a boring lab rat again.”
“You could never be a boring anything.”
As if on cue, a yawn escaped Angelina’s lips. “See? I’m boring myself.” She stepped back a step from him. “Studies say the ideal time to fall asleep is between ten-thirty and eleven-thirty.” Feeling flustered, she couldn’t stop talking. “Sleep is fascinating. Did you ever consider that we spend a third of our life sleeping? Twenty-five years, imagine that. And mankind is the only mammal who willingly delays sleep. In fact, we can do without food or water longer than we can do without sleep. Exercise releases serotonin, which enhances sleep, that’s why people sleep so well after sex…” Angelina was rattling away when she noticed Drew’s face. He was staring at her with a disbelieving look on his face. “Not that I know from experience…” Oh, God, she was making it worse. Remembering what her co-workers always said about the tediousness of the minutia she stored in her brain, Angelina felt like a fool. “Uhhhh…I’m sorry. Just call me Sheldon Cooper, I know too many random facts.”
Drew looked at her with a grin, he thought she was just about the cutest thing in the world. “Nonsense, I love Fun Facts With Angelina.”
She groaned on the inside. God, Angelina, could you be any more of a nerd? “I thank you for the conversation, Dr. Haley.” Angelina formally extended her hand. “Forgive me for my awkwardness, I’m not good in social situations.”
“Nonsense, you’re perfect.” He bent to kiss her hand.
Angelina gasped and turned on her heels, practically running from the room.
“Adorable.” Drew whispered to himself when she was gone, “I think you are in deep trouble, Dr. Haley.”
* * *
Get the bitch up!
Moshe was big with long, greasy hair and dirty clothes. He spat at her feet as his men pulled her up and dragged her to a chair.
“No, please. I don’t know what you want from me. Let me go!” Angelina screamed in the dark room.
Sand shifted under her feet as she fought to not be dragged. But the men were too strong. All fighting back ever did was earn her the back of one of their hands.
“Ready for a swim?” Moshe sneered at her while his men strapped her to the chair.
“No! Please, no!” Angelina begged for her life.
Before she could scream again, a thick towel wrapped around her head. She struggled to breathe against the fabric, terror filling her heart.
A ghostly silence overtook the room. Unable to scream through the towel, Angelina fought for breath. The pull of gravity took her by surprise when the chair was tilted back. Angelina’s heart pounded with fear.
“Today you die, my little American piglet,” Moshe whispered in her ear, his voice unsettlingly calm.
The water came without warning, soaking into the cloth, filling Angelina’s nose and mouth. She kicked her feet futilely, hoping to find either ground or the body of one of her assailants. The drowning feeling overtook her, Moshe was speaking true, this was finally it, the day she died. In only a matter of moments, Angelina would cease to exist on this earth as anything but an empty shell. Never again would she see Rafe. All those hours spent studying and working. Angelina had wasted her life and now it was about to come to an end.
“No. Stop. Please. I can’t breathe!”
Drew’s bedroom was on the first floor, but the bloodcurdling scream echoing through his home roused him from a deep slumber. “Angelina?” He kicked the covers off, raced out of his room and up the stairs to find her thrashing about, covers thrown off, tears streaming down her face. Rushing to the bed he took her by the shoulders. “Angelina. Wake up.” He unhooked her IV before she tore the needle from her arm.
Her eyes came open, but the thrashing didn’t stop. The darkness of the room carried her nightmare over into the conscious world. “No! Please, no! Help!”
“Angelina, it’s me. It’s Drew. You’re okay.” Holding her close with one arm, he lifted the bedside lamp from the floor and flicked it on. “You’re safe. It’s okay.”
Her eyes were wide open and crazed. “Drew?” She clung to him with all her strength.
“Shhhh. You were having a nightmare.”
“It was so real. I felt like I was dying.”
“I know you did.” He kissed the top of her head and rocked her in his arms. “I’m here now. You’re safe.”
Being in his arms felt like home, but slowly the terror faded and she became aware of being cradled against Drew’s hard, naked chest. Pulling back from him, Angelina couldn’t help noticing how beautiful he was, the thick muscles, the golden skin, the smattering of dark brown hair across his pecs. Instantly, her body betrayed her, the drugs feeding off the desire she felt at being this close to him.
“No.” She jerked away from him so hard she almost fell off the other side of the bed. Drew made a grab for her and she wrenched from his grasp. “Please. No. I can’t.” Her nipples were hard, almost to the point of pain, and her femininity was throbbing. Angelina was losing control and knowing he was witness to it mortified her. “Please. Put a shirt on.” She shoved the blanket closer to him, bringing his attention to her bare legs.
“Of course, I’m sorry, baby.” He understood exactly what was happening. Even though he was a doctor and a gentleman, he was also a man. Angelina had gone to bed in just her T-shirt and Drew’s gaze was drawn immediately to her legs. Even through the scrapes and bruises on her thighs, he could see she had incredible legs. His cock stiffened at the sight. He wanted this girl more than anything he’d ever wanted in his entire life. Stepping back from the bed, he put distance between them.
Angelina had rolled to her stomach and buried her face in a pillow. The throb in her sex was almost more than she could bear. She was swollen and aching, her vagina clenching on itself over and over.
She twisted in the sheets, her hips bucking slightly, her back arching in a deep bow. The shirt she wore rode up her back and the rounded swell of her ass encased in a delicate pair of pink cotton panties drove Drew crazy. Every part of him demanded to give her what she craved.
But he couldn’t, it wouldn’t be right. Taking advantage of her would make him no better than the infidels who had tortured her. “I’m so sorry, Angelina,” he whispered again, before he turned and left the room, closing the door tightly behind him.
/>
Unable to leave her, Drew pulled a chair from a nearby room and placed it outside her door. If she cried out again, he would hear her.
Drew wrestled to find comfort in the too small chair and struggled to sleep with an erection that just wouldn’t go away. Ironically, he figured they were in about the same boat. The only difference is that she was responding to a drug that manipulated her chemistry and his feelings were all too real.
The hours long vigil was a long night of frustration for Drew Haley. The only woman he wanted was just on the other side of a closed door and no matter how badly he wanted her, he couldn’t have her…maybe ever.
* * *
“Someone didn’t sleep well last night.”
Hattie came walking into the kitchen just as Drew was on his way out for the morning. He craned his neck to the side, trying to work out a crick he’d developed after sleeping in a chair with only the wall behind him to support his head. “Morning Hattie. Your meal went over great last night. Angelina thought it was amazing. And no, I didn’t sleep well at all.” He saw the smirk start to form on her face. “Not because of that. She had a nightmare.”
“Oh, poor child.”
“Woke up screaming bloody murder. I slept on a chair outside her room.”
“Not that hard, straight-back chair you keep in the back bedroom?”
“That’s the one.”
“I’ve been telling you to get rid of that thing for years. I am throwing it out today.”
Drew looked down at his watch. “I’m really late. Feel free to throw it out if you like. Do me a favor, Hattie. When she wakes up make sure she eats a good breakfast.”
Hattie patted the paper bag she was carrying. “I’ve already been to the grocery store this morning. I bought a pound of bacon and all the extras to go with it.”
“You’re the best.” He gave the woman a peck on the cheek. “Let her know I’ll be back to see her at lunch. See you later.”
…Upstairs, Angelina lay in the bed with the covers pulled over her head. The smell of frying bacon was penetrating her room and she felt a distinct rumble in her stomach. She pushed the covers back and looked down at her tummy. “You ate ten pounds of food and pie at dinner last night. How can you be hungry?” Despite her argument, she was starving and made her way downstairs.
