by Shae Black
“Uhh nothing I could decipher,” I lie. Shit, what does he usually say in his sleep, and why is he so worried about it?
“I know I was talking, I was dreaming and I have been told I talk in my sleep. And, you’re a shitty liar, so what did I say?” he demands. Unable to lie to him twice, I admit what I heard him say. “Something about not touching someone, and it was you.” Paling, he turns his face from me and releases my hand to scrub his face.
“Are you ok?” I ask.
“Fine, just a dream. Where the hell is Elijah?”
“You’ve only been sleeping about 30 min.”
“Mmm, I need to get out of here, who is the physician in charge of my care?”
Wow, he’s so grumpy after that crappy nap. “Dr. Krane, but Marcus you can’t go home, it hasn’t even been twenty four hours since you regained consciousness, you were in a serious accident.”
“I don’t care, I’m leaving.” Ok, this isn’t good; I need to come up with a good excuse to keep him here, and quick.
“You can’t go home until I can come with you, and nothing has been settled with my job here. If you want me to work for you I need to know I can come back here when you’re on your feet again.” There, that ought to detour him for a little while. I know he really wants me to be his private nurse and I pray for his sake, and maybe my own, that he accepts this excuse.
“Work for me, doing what?” His usually sparkling green eyes are glazed over. What the hell? He doesn’t remember, we just talked about this and he’s forgotten already. What if he has a short term memory problem? His fucking doctor needs to see him pronto.
“Marcus, do you know where you are?” I ask gently watching him as he assesses his surroundings; confusion clouds his face as I continue to question him. “Marcus, do you know what day it is?”
Still nothing, his face void of all expression as he stares at me, past me, through me. A knock at the door jolts my attention to where Elijah is poking his head in. “Sir, I have lunch for you and Imani, is it ok to come in?”
“Lunch… yes of course, it’s about time. Set it up here between us on that table,” he says, as if he weren’t on planet Mars just seconds ago. I shake my head and mull over what’s just happened here. I wonder if Elijah triggered his mind somehow bringing him back to the here and now. Maybe seeing me wasn’t helpful because I’m not familiar, who knows? But what I do know is that I need to talk to Dr. Krane, now.
“I’ll be right back, I have to use the bathroom.” Surely he can’t object to that, and I’m right, he nods as if he’s giving me permission to leave. Whatever, as long as he thinks he’s in control and I can get out of the room for a minute he can think whatever he wants. Outside the room I scan the hall for his day nurse Traci…where the hell has she been all day anyway? No one has come into his room all morning. I don’t know what I’m complaining about, it’s a good thing she didn’t walk in earlier when Marcus was pawing at me in his hospital bed! After a quick walk around our small unit, I find her outside another patient’s room. “Hey Traci, I wanted to talk to you about Marcus in room eight, he’s having some problems and I really think Dr. Krane needs to come and see him.”
“Is he, ok? Does he need anything? I knew you were in there so I saved his assessment for last, I’m so sorry Imani.”
“No, no, that’s ok. I’ve got him, it’s just that he’s having trouble with his memory, and he just had a sudden onset of confusion. He’s threatening to leave the hospital. Dr. Krane really needs to come and see him.” I’m trying to convey just the right amount of urgency, it’s important but certainly not an emergency. Not until someone comes to drive him home anyway and I can totally see him doing that. “Oh ok, I’ll call him right away.” She’s off to the phone and I return to Marcus’s bedside where he’s arranging our lunch on his hospital table. Whatever it is, it smells wonderful. More food from Dominus I’m sure; I could really get used to this, I hate to cook. After an intricate display of organization, he looks up at me, smiles and beckons me closer. “Let’s eat.”
“Marcus, do you know who I am?”
Now he’s looking at me like I’m nuts. “Yeeesss Imani, what is wrong with you? You look distraught.” He thinks I’m losing it, not him, that’s rich.
“I think you had a blackout, just a minute ago you didn’t know who I was or where you were,” I explain, and he waves his hand in the air dismissing my concern. “Stop worrying I’m fine, let’s eat and then I want to talk to the doctor, I’m getting out of here today.”
This is really bad, coming from the man who says he always gets what he wants. He might want to go home but he needs to stay here, for a while anyway. Elijah stands idly by gauging the situation. From what I’ve seen of their relationship his next words are not typical. “Marcus, sir, I think you should listen to Ms. Jefferson, if she believes you should stay maybe you should.” Marcus shoots a death glare at poor Elijah and a very long very uncomfortable silence falls over the room. Finally, he agrees to see Dr. Krane. “I will speak to him but I am going home today no matter what he says so make the arrangements Elijah.” “I can get the same care at home that I can here, and with Imani I will be fine. If I need a test I can come and do it as an outpatient.” He’s trying to make it seem like he’s compromising, but Elijah knows the truth and I am learning quickly that this is a master manipulator at work.
“What about my contract with the hospital?” I question.
“I called my lawyer this morning, everything should be finalized by this evening, you can sign the paperwork and come home with me.” I feel like I’m being sold, or adopted from the local animal shelter. He’s changing my life completely, if only temporarily but it’s all business to him. I’m taken aback by his ability to make this happen so seamlessly and effortlessly.
“Uh, ok, but what if Dr. Krane doesn’t think it’s a good idea for you to be discharged yet?” I’m grasping at straws to no avail, he’s going home and I’m going with him, that’s it. In the short time I’ve known him one thing is clear, he is completely undeniable.
“They can not hold me prisoner Imani, I can go home and I am going to, period.” And that’s that. Dr. Krane comes by to see Marcus and recommends he stay another 48 hours at minimum to have a scan of his brain and some neurological monitoring. Marcus refuses, explaining that he’ll come back as an outpatient for any testing, and before I know it he has me packing his things and Elijah is on the phone arranging a private ambulance to transport us home. He also called someone at Marcus’s house about having things ready for our arrival. Unbeknownst to me, my life is about to be flipped upside-down forever. Nothing could have prepared me for any of what’s to come and really, it’s probably better this way.
Chapter 12
A woman from the legal department in the hospital joins us in Marcus’s room before his discharge. I really would have liked to have a lawyer of my own go over this paperwork before I sign anything, but Marcus has sparked a sense of urgency under everyone involved in orchestrating his discharge. I feel pressured to not hold up the operation. Paperwork completed, we load into the ambulance and start home, well home for him at least. Being packed into the back of a cramped ambulance with Marcus is like being in a microwave, with electromagnetic radiation, 300 GHz zapping through the air, crackling between us. When the doors close he reaches out for my hand.
“Are you afraid Mr. Castillo?” I tease.
“No I am not, but maybe you should be.” One corner of his mouth pulls up in quite possibly the sexiest smirk I’ve seen on any man’s face. My core melts from the blazing heat in his eyes and I squirm on the bench across from him. Why does he do this to me? I can see in his expression that he enjoys toying with me. He purposely causes me to blush red-hot from my toes to the tip of every hair follicle if that were possible. “Why do you resist me Imani, have I not proven myself to you? Not one thing I have desired has been denied me in the short time we have been acquainted. Surely you know that I want you for so much more than your nursing skil
ls, although those will come in handy at some point as well, a bonus if you will.” Wait… what? A bonus-what is he talking about? My head is spinning and I actually feel faint. Like foggy around the edges, hearing fading in and out ready to drop on the floor faint. He tugs on my hand and through my sparkled vision I see his face change from his smoldering smirk to worried. “Imani.” His brow wrinkles with concern right before he starts barking my name as if he were trying to shake me from a bad dream, loud and abrupt with authority, demanding me to focus. “Imani, breathe; fuck you’re going to pass out if you don’t take deep breaths.” He drops my hand that he’s been holding to reach up and wrap it around the back of my neck shoving my head down between my legs.
“I’m ok, I’m ok. Really, let me go, it’s just so close in here and I’m a little dizzy.” I try to sit up unsuccessfully; he continues to hold me captive with little or no effort with only one arm, strapped into a gurney and a broken leg. I would have gone ballistic in a full-on panic attack with any other man.
“Stay down there until you are sure,” he orders and I do, inhaling deep breaths for a few moments until he’s convinced that I’m all right.
“I think I’m ok now, please let me go,” I squeak from between my legs and he releases me immediately.
“What was that, you’re supposed to be nursing me back to health, not passing out from a little flirting!” God, could I possibly be anymore embarrassed? Yea probably. “I told you, it’s hot in here the circulation is terrible. You shouldn’t flirt with the help, you’re my employer and you’re paying me.”
“Yes I certainly am, a lot, and I can’t have you fainting every time I smile at you. I know I’m irresistible but really Imani you are going to have to toughen up. I happen to favor you and I would not want to see that pretty head of yours injured. In case you haven’t noticed, I am not in any condition to see to it that you land in my arms and not on the metal floor of this ambulance.” Well that was unexpected, infuriating and flattering all at the same time. Toughen up, I’ll show him tough, and obviously I would never expect him to catch me falling, what an ass. I know I’m irresistible, ugh really? Screw you Mr. Conceited. I straighten up and lean away from the unexplainable intoxication surrounding him and gather myself. “Mr. Castillo, you are one cocky son of a bitch, and I will never require you to prevent me from falling, you need to refrain from flirting with me. We have a professional relationship when I am your nurse and you will do well to file that bit of information away for future reference,” I snap…so shove that in your pipe and smoke it HA! I can’t believe I just told this man that I am hopelessly into that he is a cocky son of a bitch. Shit, I hope I didn’t push him too far. He is taken aback but only for a few seconds before he roars with laughter. When he catches his breath from whatever the hell is so hilarious he finally speak
“Oh Imani, your quick, smart mouth slays me- no one has ever spoken to me that way…no one, in fact I hope the driver didn’t hear that. I have a reputation to uphold as a cocky son of a bitch you know!”
I am at a loss for words, what do I do with that remark? I feel the ambulance slow and I’m more than a little happy when it pulls to a halt. I’m glad were getting out of this fucking box. I should have followed in my own car. The ambulance driver swings open the doors and light floods into the cab. It’s an unusually sunny fall day in Seattle; I love the warmth on my face. When I hop out, the beauty of the grounds surrounding Marcus’s house stuns me, no “house” doesn’t even come close to describing this place- it actually looks very much like a castle. There are two stone towers one on either side of a set of grand double doors that are curiously painted purple. Those doors open instantly when we begin unloading the stretcher. A man with a tight businesslike expression strides toward us. He looks to be at least ten years older than Marcus. “I’m Mr. Black,” he introduces himself to me curtly. “You must be the nurse.”
“Uh yes, that’s me, Imani.” This man is intimidating, but not in the same way that Marcus is. It’s more like he is a drill sergeant and this is my first day in boot camp. Mr. Black is about 5 foot 11 inches tall with crystal blue eyes. His skin is tan, and from what I can tell he’s in pretty good shape, bald, borderline handsome, and he has a frightening scar on his cheek that runs the full length of his neck. “Yes Mr. Black, this is Imani Jefferson; she will be staying with us for a while until I am able to get around on my own. Ready the room next to mine, so she will be easily accessible to me,” Marcus instructs. Oh no, he doesn’t! He’s not manipulating me into living here, that wasn’t in the agreement and he damn well knows it!
“Nice to meet you Mr. Black, there will be no need for a room, I’ll be going home at night and returning each morning. I have my own home” I say, looking directly at Marcus to make sure he understands. He isn’t pleased, but he accepts my objection for now. Somehow I know this isn’t the end of the subject.
“Mr. Black, make up a room anyway, just in case Ms. Jefferson needs to lie down, she becomes faint quite easily.” He’s biting his lip, trying not to laugh at me. I’m fuming. Mr. Black looks at me with raised eyebrows. Mr. Black looks back and forth between us. I glare at Marcus, but stubbornly I refuse to give him the satisfaction of a reply.
“Do as your please Mr. Black, I don’t need a room, and don’t mind him, he hit his head in the accident,” I say jerking my thumb toward Marcus. This banter seems to please Mr. Black, and his expression is less severe as we roll Marcus through the huge front doors on a gurney.
“Welcome home Imani, I hope you enjoy it here because I plan on keeping you for a very long time!” he bellows as we enter the mansion/castle. He sounds like the Mad Hatter from Alice and Wonderland. Maybe this is the brain damage; I really should start a log or diary of his bizarre behavior. I should also interrogate some of his staff to see what exactly his normal behavior is, if he’s ever been normal at all. Several people approach at once and close the doors behind us. I look around in awe as we move through an empty foyer. A spectacular chandelier sparkles above us and a grandiose staircase runs up the middle of the foyer branching out on either side to separate areas on the second floor. To my right there’s another set of double doors that lead to an office. On the left is an open area that flows under the stairs toward the back of the house. We continue through a large spacious living room furnished with pieces of old English furniture. There are enormous floor to ceiling windows covered in heavy deep purple curtains that drape into pools of fabric on the floor. In fact, there’s a lot of purple in here, everywhere I look. It’s not a particularly feminine shade of purple; this shad of purple exudes royalty, which is what I imagine the decorator was going for. Open double doors right off of the living room lead us into the master suite of the house, Marcus’s bedroom. An middle-aged Hispanic woman moves past us toward his bed and swiftly pulls back the covers before she hustles to the window to open the heavy drapes that cover more floor-to- ceiling windows.
“That will be all Cecilia.” He dismisses the woman without a ‘thank you’ God he needs to learn some manners. I make a mental note to put that on top of the list of things we need to do. The paramedics lower the gurney next to his bed and begin to to move him over. “No, I’ll stand,” he quips.
“Ah Marcus, it would be smart to let them help you, you haven’t been out of bed on your own yet,” I say only to be ignored.
“I will do it myself.” The drivers look at me with question and I shrug and raise my hands in frustration.
“Let him try I guess, but be right there in case he can’t make it,” I say. Marcus scowls at me. “What? I’m your nurse, I don’t know why you want me here if you don’t plan on following my directions.” I get no reply- just angry stubbornness. They lower the rail and move the gurney close to his bed. Marcus swings his good leg over placing his foot on the ground. I tense and take a half step toward him instinctively but he looks up at me with a “Don’t you dare!” look on his face, and I stop in my tracks. He uses his hands to guide his casted leg off the gurney first
followed by his good leg. He then hops while turning to sit with unexpected grace on the edge of his bed. He looks pretty satisfied with himself as he glances in my direction while raising his casted leg up onto mattress and the pillows that have been strategically arranged by Maria. I have to say I am impressed. It’s as if he has done this before, or maybe it’s the absolute control he has over every muscle in his body. Either way, I’m enjoying the sight of him moving on his own. I didn’t think it was possible for him to be more attractive, but Marcus in motion is living breathing art. His picture could be on the cover of an anatomy book, every part of him is sculpted, hard and polished. He’s dressed in a long sleeved charcoal grey Henley that stretches across his fine chest in the most distracting way, and a pair of soft jeans with one leg cut off at the knee to allow for the cast.
