Page 5 of For the Love of Lilah
Lilah looked up as the lightning struck close to the house and the rain slashed against the windows. “I don’t want to take him out in this unless we have to.”
“I think she’s right.” Suzanna stood on the other side of the bed. “I also think Lilah should have a hot bath and lie down.”
“I’m fine.” At the moment she was wrapped in a chenille robe, warmed by that and a healthy dose of brandy. In any case, she was feeling much too proprietary about her charge to turn him over.
“Crazy is what you are.” C.C. massaged Lilah’s neck as she lectured her. “Diving into the ocean in the middle of a storm.”
“I guess I could’ve let him drown.” Lilah patted C.C.’s hand. “Where’s Trent?”
C.C. sighed as she thought of her new husband. “He and Sloan are making sure the new construction’s protected. The rain’s coming down pretty hard and they were worried about water damage.”
“I think I should make some chicken soup.” Coco, maternal instincts humming, studied the patient again. “That’s just what he needs when he wakes up.”
He was already waking up, groggily. He heard the distant and lovely sound of women’s voices. Low pitched, smooth, soothing. Like music, it lulled him in and out of dreams. When he turned his head, Max felt the gentle feminine touch on his brow. Slowly, he opened eyes still burning from salt water. The dimly lit room blurred, tilted, then slid into soft focus.
There were five of them, he noted dreamily. Five stupendous examples of womanhood. On one side of the bed was a blonde, poetically lovely, eyes filled with concern. At the foot was a tall, trim brunette who seemed both impatient and sympathetic. An older woman with smoky-blond hair and a regal figure beamed at him. A green-eyed, raven-haired Amazon tilted her head and smiled more cautiously.
Then there was his mermaid, sitting beside him in a white robe, her fabulous hair falling in wild curls to her waist. He must have made some gesture, for they all came a little closer, as if to offer comfort. The mermaid’s hand covered his.
“I guess this is heaven,” he managed through a dry throat. “It’s worth dying for.”
With a laugh, Lilah squeezed his fingers. “Nice thought, but this is Maine,” she corrected. Lifting a cup, she eased brandy-laced tea through his lips. “You’re not dead, just tired.”
“Chicken soup.” Coco stepped forward to tidy the blanket over him. She was vain enough to take an instant liking to him for his waking statement. “Doesn’t that sound good, dear?”
“Yes.” The thought of something warm sliding down his aching throat sounded glorious. Though it hurt to swallow, he took another greedy gulp of tea. “Who are you?”
“We’re the Calhouns,” Amanda said from the foot of the bed. “Welcome to The Towers.”
Calhouns. There was something familiar about the name, but it drifted away, like the dream of drowning. “I’m sorry, I don’t know how I got here.”
“Lilah brought you,” C.C. told him. “She—”
“You had an accident,” Lilah interrupted her sister, and smiled at him. “Don’t worry about it right now. You should rest.”
It wasn’t a question of should, but must. He could already feel himself drifting away. “You’re Lilah,” he said groggily. As he drifted to sleep, he repeated the name, finding it lyrical enough to dream on.
“How’s the lifeguard this morning?”
Lilah turned from the stove to look at Sloan, Amanda’s fiancé. At six-four, he filled the doorway, was so blatantly male—and relaxed with it—she had to smile.
“I guess I earned my first merit badge.”
“Next time try making a pot holder.” After crossing the room, he kissed the top of her head. “We wouldn’t want to lose you.”
“I figure jumping into a stormy sea once in my life is enough.” With a little sigh, she leaned against him. “I was petrified.”
“What the hell were you doing down there with a storm coming?”
“Just one of those things.” She shrugged, then went back to fixing tea. For now, she preferred to keep the sensation of being sent to the beach to herself.
“Did you find out who he is?”
“No, not yet. He didn’t have a wallet on him, and since he was in pretty rough shape last night, I didn’t want to badger him.” She glanced up, caught Sloan’s expression and shook her head. “Come on, big guy, he’s hardly dangerous. If he was looking for a way into the house to have a shot at finding the necklace, he could have taken an easier route than drowning.”
He was forced to agree, but after having Amanda shot at, he didn’t want to take chances. “Whoever he is, I think you should move him to the hospital.”
“Let me worry about it.” She began to arrange plates and cups on a tray. “He’s all right, Sloan. Trust me?”
