The Millionaire Bachelor

by Susan Mallery

  The nurse nodded. “All the signs are positive. It could have been a whole lot worse. The smoke could have damaged her lungs, or she could have been burned. The firefighters got her out just in time.”

  He supposed he should feel grateful, but the news left him stunned. Cathy was injured. He had to get to her.

  He clutched the piece of paper in his hand and rose to his feet. “I’ll go up and see her. Thanks for the information.”

  “You’re welcome.” She gave him a tired smile.

  On the second floor, he found the correct wing, then spoke to a nurse at the main station. “You know we’re not supposed to let anyone in,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “I know, but I need to see her. I was on the phone with her when the fire started. We talked until the line went dead.”

  The older woman frowned. “Five minutes, no more. You wouldn’t happen to know about immediate family, would you?” Before he could answer, her frown deepened. “Don’t even try telling me you’re a brother or something.”

  So much for pretending to be a cousin. “Cathy has mentioned several friends to me, but no family.”

  “I guess they’ll find someone,” she said.

  He took a pen from the counter and wrote on a notepad. “This is my name and private phone number. If I don’t answer, leave a message and I’ll get right back to you.”

  She stared at the paper. “What’s this for?”

  “Until you find family, I’m all that Cathy has. I want to be informed of any changes. Also I’ll be responsible for any medical bills not covered by insurance.”

  The older woman looked surprised. “You sure you want to do that? It could get expensive.”

  “I don’t care.”

  He had a lot of concerns in his life, but money wasn’t one of them.

  “If you say so, Mr.—” she glanced at the paper “—Mr. Ward. Go on in, but you can only stay a couple of minutes.”

  “Thanks.”

  Stone walked down the corridor and paused in front of the second-to-last open door on the right He’d been carrying on a phone relationship with Cathy for over two years, but he didn’t know what she looked like. She’d told him she was tall and blond. He’d wanted to picture someone beautiful, like a fashion model, but a voice in his gut had always whispered that wasn’t true. So while he’d been able to imagine her body, he’d never had a clear image of her face.

  He looked over his shoulder, half expecting to see her group of friends barreling his way. If they showed up, he would step aside. They had the right to be here now. He didn’t. If he hadn’t been on the phone with her when the alarm had gone off, he wouldn’t have known there was a problem. The tension in him increased as he thought of how frantic he would have been if he’d made his call and she hadn’t been there. Thank God he’d been with her. Then he sucked in a breath and stepped into the room.

  Because of the late hour, the only light came from a dim bulb over the hospital bed. He was careful to stay in the shadows as he moved closer. If she woke up, he didn’t want to frighten her.

  He took one step, then another until he was within touching distance. After two years of wondering, he finally knew.

  She was lying down, so he couldn’t judge her height. The first thing he noticed was her face. There were smudges of smoke on her cheeks and forehead, contrasting with pale skin. Her hair wasn’t blond at all, but a darker shade. A medium brown. It was long and spilled across the pillow. Her mouth was full, her nose straight He couldn’t tell about her eyes.

  She was not the woman he’d pictured, nor was she anything like she’d described herself. Stone stepped a little closer so that he could read the wristband. The name matched. This was Cathy.

  Confused by this latest development in a difficult night, he pulled a chair close to her bed and sat next to her. Her arms lay at her sides. He touched the wristband, then stroked the back of her hand. Her skin was soft. He grasped her fingers and squeezed. She returned the pressure.

  Stone felt an instant spark, as if electricity had jumped from her body to his. He frowned, not sure what that meant, then he decided it was just a reaction to all he’d been through. He was exhausted, nothing more. Still, he continued to hold her hand in his and he brushed his thumb against her skin. Soft and smooth, he thought, and just as pale as her face. This was not the skin of a woman who had recently spent the weekend in a sunny resort. According to Cathy’s stories, she’d spent much of the spring traveling to vacation hot spots. She’d talked about wearing a bikini and getting sun. But there wasn’t a hint of a tan.

  Stone studied her face again, the nondescript features, the mousy brown hair, then he moved his gaze lower, to her body. The layers of sheet and blanket concealed details, but he had an idea about her general shape. She was rounded. Not unpleasantly so, but he doubted she wore the bikinis and short skirts she talked about.

  “Ah, Cathy,” he said quietly. “All the times I thought about meeting you, I never thought it would be like this.”

  He continued to stroke her hand, enjoying the feel of her smooth warmth.

  “I’m glad you’re doing all right,” he went on. “I understand you’ve been through a shock and that you need to rest, but you’re going to have to regain consciousness soon. We need to know that you’re fine. I guess I’m the one who really wants to know that. So for me, okay?”

  For a second it seemed that she was going to stir. Stone froze in his seat, not sure what he would do if she started to wake up. He supposed he would have to duck out of the room before she realized he was there. But she didn’t open her eyes and if she seemed more restless than before, it was only noticeable to him because he was watching her so closely.

  “Mr. Ward?”

  He glanced up and saw the nurse standing in the doorway. “Yes?”

  “You’ve got about two more minutes, then I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

  He nodded, then turned his attention back to Cathy. “They want me to go so you can rest. I’ll be back tomorrow. It would be great if you were awake for that.” Actually he didn’t know how he would handle the situation if she was, but he would deal with that problem when it occurred.

  He released her hand, then rose to his feet. He moved to the small closet by the door to the bathroom. Inside were a pair of worn jeans and a large, faded T-shirt. A purse rested on a shelf. He pulled it down and stared at the smoky handprints clearly visible on the cheap vinyl. She’d obviously been clutching her purse when they’d rescued her.

  After making sure the nurse had returned to her station, he opened the bag and pulled out Cathy’s wallet. He made a note of her home address on her driver’s license, then checked the remaining contents. She had one credit card and fourteen dollars to her name. He replaced the wallet and returned to the bed.

  “I’ll see you soon,” he promised, then leaned over and kissed her cheek. She didn’t stir. On his way out, he stopped and told the nurse he wanted Cathy moved to a private room. He would pay the difference.

  Twenty minutes later, he eased the BMW off the freeway and into the silent suburban community of North Hollywood. Despite the name, there was a range of foothills between this city and the tourist and movie mecca of Hollywood proper. Parts of North Hollywood had been renovated in recent years. He checked street names against the map in his car, then, after making a few wrong turns, he found himself on Cathy’s street.

  He parked in front of the small dark house. It had been built in the fifties, along with most of the other homes on the street. There were mature trees, small lots, older cars. There was nothing wrong with the house—except that she’d told him she lived in a nice condo by the pass.

  “Cathy Eldridge, you are a fraud,” he murmured in the quiet of the night.

  Why had she done it? Why had she lied to him? Even as he asked the questions, he knew the answers could be found in the conversations he had with Cathy. She knew just enough about him to assume he lived an extravagant life-style. His company, Ward Interna
tional, was well-known. Cathy probably thought she had to create an exciting existence to keep his attention. She probably thought he wouldn’t be interested in someone living in ordinary circumstances. Just like Evelyn.

  Evelyn. He closed his eyes and willed that memory away. He didn’t want to think about her. Not now, not this night.

  So Cathy had created a world that existed somewhere between truth and lies. Were the friends real? Any of the travel? Her dog? He stared at the small house and shook his head. If only she’d realized that what drew him to her wasn’t where she went or what she did. It was the sound of her voice, her laughter, the sharp wit and obvious intelligence.

  He started the car and drove toward the freeway. He supposed he should be angry with her, but he wasn’t. Despite the stories, she was still Cathy. He still cared about her, and were she to disappear from his world, he would miss her more than she would ever guess.

  *

  Stone watched the first fingers of sunlight creep across the floor of the private hospital room. He stood and stretched, trying to ease the crick in his neck and the dull throbbing in the small of his back. He’d spent most of the previous two nights at Cathy’s bedside, holding her hand, talking to her, enjoying her quiet company.

  There had been a few times of lucidity, when she’d stirred, opened her eyes and even spoken. He was careful to stay in the shadows then, waiting until she dozed off again before moving close.

  He glanced at his watch. Mary, the night nurse, would be by shortly to take vital signs and draw blood. Stone knew that he should be leaving. As it was, he was going to be driving home in daylight. Not to worry, he told himself. Commuters were much too interested in getting to work on time for them to notice him.

  He returned to Cathy’s side and took her hand. In the past two nights, he’d become intimately familiar with her hand and her fingers. He knew every bump, every curve, every line. He’d traced the shape of her nails, discovered the hollow of her palm. Now his hand curled around hers with a comfortable familiarity.

  “Hey, kid, I’m going to have to go soon,” he said quietly. “But I’ll be back tonight. I know, I know, you’re getting sick of my company, but I don’t have anything planned so you’re stuck with me.”

  He knew eventually he was going to have to step out of the shadows and let her know he was there. Tonight, he promised himself. When he returned.

  He looked at her. Her eyes were closed, her chest barely moving as she drew in each breath. He inhaled deeply, matching his rhythm with hers. As he did, he caught the scent of the flowers that filled every available surface of her room. He’d had them delivered the first day. Not knowing what she liked, he’d had the florist bring some of everything. Sweet smells formed a heady perfume that would always remind him of her.

  He’d wondered if any other flowers would join his. Her employer had sent a plant, but no one else seemed to care that Cathy was in the hospital. Stone was no longer surprised.

  Curiosity and concern had won over guilt, and he’d asked one of his people to investigate her. Knowing her place of employment, her home address and driver’s license number had made the search simple.

  Cathy Eldridge, age twenty-eight. An only child. Her father had run off before she started grade school, and her mother had been an alcoholic who had died when Cathy was twenty-one. No siblings, no relatives, no friends. Not even a dog.

  At times he thought he should be angry with her for lying to him and for assuming that he would require her to make up an exciting life as a prerequisite for a friendship. At other times the thought of her solitary existence was an all too familiar reflection of his own empty world. She had too little, he had too much and they were both alone. Perhaps that was what had drawn them together.

  “Mr. Ward?”

  He glanced up and saw Mary hovering in the doorway.

  “Ms. Eldridge’s doctor is making his rounds. Would you like to speak to him?”

  “Yes, thank you.” He gave Cathy’s hand a quick squeeze. “I’ll be back. Don’t you go running off without me.”

  He followed Mary down the hallway to the nurses’ station. “This is Dr. Tucker,” she said, walking up to a tall, thin man with graying temples. “Dr. Tucker, this is Stone Ward. He’s a friend of Cathy’s.”

  Dr. Tucker’s pale gray gaze was steady as he offered a hand. “I understand you’re about the only friend Cathy has. We’ve been unable to locate any family.”

  “She doesn’t have any,” Stone said. He knew the doctor would assume he was privy to that information because he and Cathy were close, not because he’d had her investigated.

  “I see. I’ve heard that you’re taking responsibility for her. Moving her to a private room and arranging for special care when she’s ready to leave.”

  “That’s right.”

  “Fine.” Dr. Tucker motioned toward a vinyl-covered sofa in the corner. “Let’s have a seat and I’ll bring you up-to-date on her condition.”

  “Thanks.”

  When they were comfortable, the doctor opened a chart and read a few lines. “Cathy is doing well. She was lucky. There were no burns or damage to the lungs. She wasn’t seriously injured in the explosion. I don’t anticipate any problems from the head trauma.” He read some more. “As far as her leg goes, the knee is going to require arthroscopic surgery, then some physical therapy to get her up and around. I would anticipate a six-week recovery time from that. Maybe two months. She has a lot of bruising, which may slow her down. When we release her, she’s going to need someone to look after her for a few days.”

  “Not a problem,” Stone told him. He planned to bring Cathy home with him. Ula would be thrilled to have a houseguest to fuss over.

  “Good. We’re doing one last CAT scan today and if the results are what we expect, she’ll have the surgery tomorrow. That would mean releasing her in three days.”

  “That’s fine. My house is already prepared.”

  They finalized a few more details, then shook hands. “Very nice to meet you,” Dr. Tucker said. “I’m glad Cathy isn’t alone.”

  “Me, too.”

  The doctor hesitated. “It’s really none of my business, but I couldn’t help noticing the scarring. Car accident?”

  Even as he told himself not to, Stone involuntarily touched the left side of his face. “Yes. About three years ago.”

  “I thought so.” Dr. Tucker leaned close and studied the marks. “There’s a very gifted plastic surgeon in my medical building. Her offices are next to mine. If you’re considering surgery, I would highly recommend her.”

  Stone shook his head. “No, thanks.”

  Dr. Tucker persisted. “There are some wonderful new techniques. She could even out your skin completely and get rid of the thick scars. You’d probably be left with thin, pale lines, but they’re nothing compared with what you have now.”

  Stone rose to his feet. “I appreciate the information. About this—” he pointed to his face “—and Cathy. Thank you, Doctor.”

  He headed toward the elevator. He knew Dr. Tucker wouldn’t understand his refusal to have plastic surgery. His first doctor hadn’t understood, either. He was healthy, and he had the money to pay for the operation. So what was the problem?

  What they couldn’t know and what he wouldn’t explain was that the scars were part of his penance. He carried the scars as a tangible reminder of that night…and Evelyn’s death. Just in case he ever tried to forget.

  Chapter Three

  Cathy stirred. She was pleasantly drowsy in the dimly lit hospital room, yet the urge to open her eyes was strong. She’d been awake on and off most of the day. She supposed she should try to stay up a little longer, but the thought of sleep tempted her.

  She shifted, trying to get comfortable. Except for a few aches scattered throughout her body, most of the pain radiated from the bump on her head and her injured right knee. She’d been awake when Dr. Tucker had made his rounds late this afternoon, and he’d explained her condition. She’d been luc
ky, he’d told her. She could have died.

  Cathy knew that was true. She tried not to think about those horrible minutes while she’d waited for the fire department to come rescue her. If Stone hadn’t stayed on the line with her, she would have lost it for sure.

  Stone. She relaxed and smiled faintly. He’d been so good to her, keeping her calm, telling her that she was going to be safe. He’d sent her enough flowers to fill a greenhouse. That was so kind of him.

  She missed him and hoped that he missed her, too. It would be a while before she would be able to work. The thought of them not being able to talk upset her, so she decided not to deal with that right now. There were other pressing worries—her job, for one. Was the company still in business? Plus there was the issue of her medical bills. She doubted all of them would be covered by insurance. Her smile faded and with it, her good humor. She didn’t want to think about any of this. It would be better to sleep.

  She drew in a deep breath and forced herself to relax. The pain throbbed in time with her heartbeat, but she was due for a shot soon and that would help. In the meantime, she would close her eyes and allow herself to drift away. Her problems would still be waiting when she was stronger.

  “They told me you were awake, but I guess they were wrong.”

  The statement hung in the air. Cathy tensed instantly, not sure if she’d imagined the words or if they’d really been spoken. That voice! It couldn’t be. Stone? Here?

  Excitement ripped through her, only to crash headlong into the wall of reality. If Stone was really here, then he could see her. Horror flooded her. He might already know the truth, or if he didn’t, he would soon figure it out.

  No. This couldn’t be happening. She’d imagined the voice. After all, she’d hit her head pretty hard and she’d been out of it for a couple of days. That was it. She wasn’t in her right mind.

  Someone moved into the room. She didn’t dare open her eyes, but she felt a presence—his presence. A chair scraped against the floor, then he took her hand in his.

  The contact was warm, gentle and oddly familiar. Perhaps because she’d imagined it a thousand times, she told herself. Over the past two years, as she relived their phone calls, she’d fantasized about him coming to meet her, about him taking her in his arms and telling her that he felt things for her he’d never felt for another woman. Foolish dreams, she thought, not quite able to believe this was really happening. Stone was here?