by Nichols, A
Out of the operating room and in the hospital ICU, Jordan lay attached to machines; his blood pressure numbers and his blood count were still falling, his breathing was shallow. The doctors had worked tirelessly to stop the bleeding and deal with the shock, but he had lost a great deal of blood before the hospital personnel managed to arrive, and it looked like it might be a losing battle. The medical staff with the patient was aghast when one of Jordan’s men made the request for the phone to be placed in his room. It was unorthodox, but there was nothing else to be done for him medically. The lead doctor allowed the iPhone to be decontaminated and covered in a plastic and to be placed beside him. A soft voice came over it; it was on speakerphone.
“Jordan.” Her soft voice hung in the room. “You need to fight for me and for our son. You cannot leave me here to cope alone.” There was the soft sound of crying. “I love you. I’m paying your fee, so get your damned ass out of that bed and get back to work protecting me.” Now there were actual sobs. “Jordan. I mean it.” The phone was quiet, but the falling pressure numbers suddenly slowed down and leveled out, and Jordan’s breathing became less labored.
“Tell her to keep talking,” the physician shouted as he watched the numbers and examined the wounds to check on bleeding. Tim relayed the information to Madison as the hospital personnel stood around whispering to each other, watching the drama play out before them.
Her weak voice was back on the phone. “I hope you’re not giving these doctors a bad time.” Her voice rose in anger. “And why in the hell weren’t you wearing your bullet proof vest?” A hitch in her breathing stopped her words, but then she continued. “Your son needs you, Jordan. Listen to the sound of my voice; reach out to me; my hands are touching you, healing you; and you will sleep now. I’ll be on a flight just as soon as I can. Please, darling, let your body relax and give your soul to me to keep until I can hand it back to you.” The doctors were all looking at each other as everything about the patient stabilized, blood pressure actually rising, color better and breathing easier. The patient’s body relaxed, and he fell into a deep sleep. They had never seen anything like it. It could have been their medical intervention, but there was more to it, and each one knew it. Her words had done it. She was a witch.
Tim swallowed hard and fought tears as he told Madison, “He’s stable.”
CHAPTER 18
No one on the medical staff spoke of what had happened in the ICU. How would one explain it? Most of the attending staff knew the name of the patient and that he was irrevocably joined to Madison Kelly; the papers were full of their love story. The waiting room was filled with State Department personnel and police, but no one could even begin to explain what had happened medically in that room. Jordan’s monitoring continued, and the doctor asked to see Tim with a request. “Can you keep that line open and keep her talking to him for the next half hour or so?
Tim saw to it that Jordan could hear her soft voice as she told him of her trip and of her fainting at the dinner meeting. Her lyrical voice went up and down; as it did, the nurses noted that Jordan relaxed even further into a healing sleep. The wounds had stopped bleeding, and his pressure reached an acceptable level. The doctor declared him out of danger for the time being, but he asked Tim to make sure that Madison would be available at this number should he need her.
In the Senate conference room, Neville had to contain his anger. The man should have been dead. He’d been shot twice at close range for God’s sake. He did not believe in the powers thing—he didn’t. But he couldn’t get it out of his head that she had done something to intervene.
Madison pushed to be allowed up. Her heartbeat had steadied, as had that of the child’s. She was sipping on juice and nibbling on crackers. She wanted to leave immediately for the States, and arrangements were being made for just that. Tim’s phone lay in her hand, a lifeline to Jordan. She asked to speak with the doctor who went over his injuries carefully with her. The doctor wanted to ask, but his nerve failed him. The healing powers thing was true; no one could convince him otherwise. She said she would thank him personally when she arrived.
Tim made all the arrangements for her to go, accompanying her as she was moved from the Jordanian embassy in England to the airport. A private plane picked her up as soon as she arrived there provided by the State Department, and she was encouraged to rest as the plane taxied down the runway. She kept reaching out in her mind to find Jordan, and she sensed he was waiting for her. She finally put her head down after asking Tim to wake her if she was needed; she slept.
It had been a remarkable day.
Representatives of the State Department who wanted to talk with her met them at the Reagan National Airport. She refused to speak with them at that moment, asking for time to see to Jordan. The Jordanian embassy personnel also met her, offering her accommodations at the embassy for the night. They were filled with praise for Jordan’s quick actions in saving the minister. She declined with a smile, asking to be taken to the hospital as quickly as possible. Her child continued to move inside her as if knowing he was going to his father.
Cameras flashed over and over almost blinding her, until Tim requested that the press back off as he escorted her to a waiting car. As she entered the hospital, she asked to see the attending physician for Jordan, needing to hear that things were progressing; but she felt him with her.
The halls filled with visitors and hospital personnel who had heard the amazing story; all wanted a glance at her. A mother holding a very sick child stood to one side, murmuring to her little one, and Madison was compelled to go to touch the little girl softly, moving her hands over the her forehead and then down her body. “She will get better,” she said to the mother, and she kissed the little one. She continued down the hall to the elevator that would take her to Jordan, touching patients as she went.
The hallway outside ICU was filled with more people, and Tim could feel her weakening at the intrusion on her private world. He cleared the way for her to enter the ICU room where Jordan lay, and he pushed open the door for her. The shock on her face was evident when she saw his body surrounded by machines and tubes. “Oh my dear Jordan. What a mess you are,” she said softly as the door closed behind her. She stood beside his bed and took his hand in hers, placing it on her rounded stomach; his son fluttered madly inside her as they all connected. She leaned in and her lips met his in a gentle kiss as she pushed his hair from his face.
The doctor entered moments later to see her. Her quiet beauty struck him as she smiled and held out her hand. “I’m Madison Kelly. I owe you a debt of gratitude, doctor. Thank you.”
“He’s not out of the woods yet, but we are now very hopeful he will make a full and complete recovery. He was shot in the back and in the side, the bullets passing through his body and exiting. There were no major organs hit nor was his spine impacted. He is one very lucky guy. The side wound is a flesh wound only. We’re concerned about his breathing, blood loss and posttraumatic infection.” The doctor watched as her hands lay on the bandages on his side, reaching around to those on his back as well as those on his chest. She held her hands on them, her eyes closed, as she seemed to draw the wounds into herself. The machines around Jordan indicated that his breathing became even stronger, and his blood pressure rose to a good level. She removed her hands and turned once again to the doctor.
“When will he be awake?”
“We don’t know for sure. He seems to be in a deep sleep right now, but I would guess he should be with us in the next six or seven hours, depending on the shock.”
Madison nodded. Tim pulled up a chair for her, and she sat beside Jordan, holding his hand and talking to him. “You’ve dragged me home, just as you wanted. You had better join me soon. I’m willing to listen, and you owe me an explanation.” The doctor had no idea what she was talking about.
“Do you want me to notify your gynecologist that you are here?” the doctor asked.
“I’m sure everybody in the world knows I am here, doct
or. I’d just like some time with him if that can be arranged.”
“Would you like something to eat?”
“My close protection will get it for me, but thank you for offering. Your people are very busy. I will be forever in your debt.”
“There are a number of people out here asking to speak with you,” he added.
“Not now, doctor.” He nodded and left; the energy level in the room had been intense now that he was in the hall. He ran his fingers through his hair. The woman was something else; he told everyone she would be unavailable for some time.
It was late evening before Jordan opened his eyes, taking her in; her red hair spilled over his sheets as she slept, his hand held in hers. He moved his other hand with needles and tubes to touch her softly, pushing her curls from her face. She was here; he had been in a dreamland of sorts, thinking he could hear her talking to him and scolding him. He noted his hospital setting; what in the hell had happened? The last thing he remembered was the man in the crowd and the gun, and then the searing pain of bullets. Everything beyond that was in a haze, like it was happening to someone else. He had fallen, and it had all disappeared. Now she was here. The door pushed open slowly allowing Tim to enter. He saw that Jordan was awake, and Jordan motioned him closer.
“Get her doctor. I want her checked out,” he whispered in some pain. Tim nodded and exited as Jordan lay back and just watched her even breathing. Within ten minutes, Dr. Lambert pushed through his door, viewing the scene before her with a smile. Jordan’s hand was wound in Madison’s red locks, soothing her softly, rubbing her neck. She slowly came awake.
“Hey beautiful. Your doctor is here.” Her sleepy eyes came up to meet his blue ones, and she smiled; then tears began to slide down her face. Dr. Lambert helped her to sit up from her awkward sleeping position, and she put her arms around Madison giving her time to compose herself.
“I think you better kiss this lout before I take you for a quick exam. Let’s make sure this baby is doing all he should be doing. I want some food in you, but you can eat with Jordan if you’d like.” Madison nodded and turned to Jordan for her kiss. He kissed her softly, his tongue moving into her mouth to meet with hers, the kiss reminding her that he was very much alive and getting better. The connection was intense.
“Go.” Witch. “I’ll give you ten minutes or so.” The words were so Jordan—giving her minutes to do as he asked. She sobbed all over him again as he caught her to him with his one good arm and hugged her, wincing with discomfort from his wounds. “I’m fine.”
Dr. Lambert said, “We’ll be right back,” and she took Madison out of the room and into a side one to complete her examination.
Tim cleared his throat. “Can I get you anything else, boss?”
“A whiskey would be nice.” Tim shook his head. “You deserve a raise; I’ll see you get it, and thank you for your diligence. She’s OK?”
“Yes, sir. I believe she is now.”
“I need to know exactly what happened. You have ten minutes to fill me in.”
Tim smiled. “I’m not sure ten minutes will do it, Sir. But, I’ll try.”
The two men talked until the door opened and Madison returned, a smile on her face. “I’m fine, Jordan, and so is our son, so you can stand down.” He glanced at Dr. Lambert for confirmation. She nodded.
He threw his best smile at Madison. “Well, thank God you do as you’re told some times. You’re improving in the obedience arena.”
That brought a sparkle of anger to her eyes. “Better watch it, Jordan. You’re not at full strength.” He smirked at her, but she noted the pain etching his face. She walked to him, her hands moving softly over his wounds and then touching his face. Warmth filled his body. She put her hands around his neck, rubbing slowly, touching his pulse point often. Her eyes were on his. She felt him relax underneath her. “Rest now. I promise I will be here.” He lifted his eyebrows in a look of disbelief. “Jordan, I promise.” He nodded, and his eyes closed, the pain receding even though he hadn’t taken his pain medication.
Dr. Lambert shook her head and moved to the door. “You need to eat, Madison, and rest now. I’m available if you need me.”
Madison thanked her, but her immediate thought was that this had happened because of her. Jordan had been targeted, but he was still alive. It was time to fight for him; she was done running and letting others determine her fate. The baby kicked her again. “I hear you little one. I hear you.”
CHAPTER 19
Keeping him settled was a full time job; Jordan did not play well with others, defying everyone but her as to his rest. Madison wanted to lock him in his room. He didn’t listen worth a damn, trying to walk the house to get his strength back. It had been nearly two weeks since the shooting, and he was chomping at the bit to get back to his work. He had even been working out with weights much to his doctor’s despair. The doctor was pushing to keep him off the job for another week, but it was proving to be a losing battle. Madison made him work on the computer, urging him to use the time to research some of his earlier leads.
Jordan had demanded to go with her to her next doctor’s visit and been warmly received by the nurses, the other waiting mothers to be in the office and by the doctor herself much to Madison’s chagrin. While Madison was there, Jordan sat her in front of him and held her hands together in his. The baby’s blood test had been ordered at his request, but it was to allow him to monitor for a disease that sometimes ran in the males of his family; he was happy to note that the child was free of the problem. He told Madison that he knew that the baby was his from the very beginning. Damn, she had been a virgin when he took her and never out of his bed or out of his or his men’s sights for seven months now. How could he not believe her?
He knew she was a witch, but he impressed upon her that he had never doubted his paternity especially after that fantastic, first night together, and she finally believed him. His hands touched her face, remembering that he almost hadn’t made it to this point in his life. She happily buried her anger, thankful that he was still with her, but she made up her mind that she would never take him for granted again. There was always the possibility of death in his line of work as there was in hers. But the child must be protected at all costs.
She awoke in the middle of night to hard, masculine hands surrounding her waist, and small kisses on her abdomen where her sleep pants had been at bedtime; they were now suspiciously missing. Those same hands were cruising down the tops of her legs, and clever fingers were moving into her, finding her already wet. “Um-mm. I like wet,” came a low voice. Then a tongue followed the fingers. Her body pulsed beneath him.
“Jordan.”
“Madison.”
“You need to rest. It’s only been three weeks.”
“I need to have wild, passionate sex to make sure everything works; this will be a test run, followed by more test runs until I’m sure everything is in its proper place.” His tongue continued to delve into her belly button as he pushed her thighs further apart. Her cry made his fingers inside her work harder.
She was finding her breathing more difficult. “What if you break open the wound?” Her hands wound in his dark hair, pulling it hard to stop him.
“What if I take you on your hands and knees?” and he flipped her over to do just that, removing her camisole like a magician and pulling her up to her knees, bending her upper body to the bed’s surface. He palmed both breasts. “God woman. Your breasts are fuller. I can thank my son for that.” Her deep cry set him off, and his kisses traced her spine from the top of her neck to the bottom of her ass. She could feel him pressing into her from behind, and she wanted him with every fiber of her being as she tensed beneath his onslaught.
She heard Jordan’s soft laugh behind her as she did, and his hand palmed her butt cheek and gave it a love tap. It happened a second and a third time, sensual slaps. “You’re lucky I’ve gotten over being angry with you for your disappearing act.” His hand connected in another soft slap, bri
nging sharp shards of sexual awareness into her system in a flood; her body actually gushed around him, and his warm breath fell on her back as he nibbled on her. “You’re a sight for sore eyes.”
He could hear teasing in her voice as she said from beneath him, “You’re not nearly as strong as you were.”
The next slap settled that argument to her loud “Ouch. Jordan!”
“You’d best remember with whom you are playing,” but he kissed the spot where his hard hand had landed.
“I want to touch you, please.” He pulled her up to sit on her legs with her back to him and brought her arms and hands back, placing them on his upper body. “Seconds. That’s what you get before I take you.”
Her small hands slid down his hard abdomen without her sight to his expanded length and then up again, feeling him grow beneath them; then her those hands circled him. His tip was weeping, and her finger swept it bringing the moisture around to her lips. “God woman. Don’t do that.” He pulled her hand away and pushed her back down into the soft mattress, her ass in the air as he covered her and pushed deeply into her very willing body, filling her. She pushed back to take all of him as his own hands palmed her belly. “Mine, little one.” That was directed at his son. “She’s mine, so don’t get too comfortable in there.”
Madison’s giggle erupted as he pulled out again and pushed into her harder, claiming her to his own groan. “God, Madison. I missed you; I missed this,” and he slammed into her again, picking up speed and pulling on her sensitive breast tips to her sweet cries. He seemed to be all around her filling her with his touch, his scent, and his sounds, his life. His hands had moved up to her neck, pulling her red hair back arching her body to open it to his deeper thrusts and her muted tones. The torture went on and on. “Jordan. They’ll hear us.” Jordan had kept two men in the house overnight for better protection for Madison.
