Page 55 of Some Like It Scandalous
The doctor looked like she wanted to say more, but she refrained and left. Anna reached up to touch his hand, but he pulled away and slid the hand into his pockets. “I need to call Barbara now. I can have Kyle take you back to the penthouse. You should get some sleep.”
And just like that, the door between them closed.
ARMAND
It was well past dawn before Armand made it back to the penthouse. Anna refused to leave, even when he spoke at length with Richard’s sister, his attending surgeons, and security. Shewaited for him, staying in the secure surgical floor waiting room. He managed to coax her into going home to sleep only after she extracted a promise that he would be along directly.
He left his coat and tie in the car, but security would send both up later. He sat with Richard until the attorney’s eyes opened. He wouldn’t likely remember it, but Armand would. Peterson arranged for a detail to remain at the hospital. Richard’s aversion to security aside—he would be in the hospital for several days if not weeks and Armand refused to leave him unguarded.
Pausing at the bar, Armand poured himself a drink and tossed it back. Exhaustion wore at him. He’d leaned hard on Anna tonight and she kept him going. He couldn’t believe he forgot about his birthday—arriving to find her waiting for him in his bed—right down to the bow. He poured a second drink and carried it with him. The apartment was silent, and he stopped at her bedroom door and ran his fingers down the wood. He wanted to open it and go inside to her.
Trusting her didn’t seem so distant a concept after the night—but she wasn’t safe with him. Dragging his fingers away, he rubbed his face. They needed to put more resources into tracking down Richard’s attacker and eliminating this threat. If it meant declaring on Belarian television that he slept with goats, he needed that party to stop lobbying for his family’s return. Opening the door to his room, he found that a lamp burned next to the bed—low and friendly. Unbuttoning his shirt with one hand and balancing his drink with the other, he paused.
Anna lay sound asleep in the middle of his bed, curled on her side. His heart squeezed. Her dark hair spread over the pillows, deep shadows of fatigue smudged under her eyes. Quiet and slow, he walked over and set his drink down on the nightstand. A note propped against the clock actually dragged a weary smile from him.
It’s not your birthday, but I’m here anyway.
He stripped off his clothes, drained the drink and crawled in next to her. She rolled over and snuggled right into his arms. Even in sleep, she fit against him perfectly. His eyes drifted closed, he hadn’t thought sleep was possible when he left the hospital. But Richard was alive and Anna was in his arms.
It’s a lot better than a birthday.
Chapter 16
Anna
She woke up to delicious tension coiling through her. Her body hummed with need.
His hands glided over her breasts, massaging, and his mouth followed. Every caress fluttered through her and when he sank into her, she arched up to meet him. Charlie’s mouth fastened over hers and they rocked together, riding the demanding rhythm until they surged together and tumbled over the precipice.
An hour later, they sat at the breakfast table. The thoughtful staff had left them a cold buffet of bagels, muffins and Danishes. The coffee was hot and fresh. Twice she caught him staring at her with raw, naked emotion in his eyes, but the look would shutter when their gazes collided. The next three days followed the same pattern. Every night she would go to bed alone—in his bed. The repeat of their past in Norway wasn’t lost on her. She might go to his bed alone, but the difference was he woke her in the night, always making love to her—a desperation and need in his touch that left her aching to fill the empty places inside him.
But as close as their nights brought them, the days pushed them apart. They shared breakfast and then he would disappear into his office, to go to the hospital, to meet with the FBI.She learned belatedly that his brothers were no longer in residence at the tower, having been whisked away to the airport sometime in the night after Richard’s accident. Alyx called and left a message—she and Daniel would not be present during the opening fundraiser for the scholarship. She apologized, but her husband surprised her with a tropical second honeymoon to parts unknown.
She would be in touch. The sense of isolation grew. Anna kept her distance from her family, and Charlie cleared the decks.
The tension in the security staff heightened. She went to the hospital twice, always under heavy guard. The number of men on her detail increased the closer they came to the event night—because she was on-site meeting with event coordinators, inspecting the party setup, and a shorter trip to her house to fetch her dress, shoes and other accessories. Kyle offered to send one of his men to pick up her items, but when she pointed out they would have to go through her intimate personal belongings, he sent Kate. They were adamant that she not go, and she didn’t want to argue with him.
The air was pregnant with the sense of waiting. The other shoe needed to drop. Kyle and two others followed her up the hospital hallway to Richard’s room. Two security officers stood outside the room. The LAPD maintained a uniform on scene. It turned out the police department was very fond of Richard Prentiss—she didn’t realize he represented the police department in numerous lawsuits, more often than not having mediated disastrous lawsuits into public-relations wins.
Knocking once, she waited for the murmured “come in” before opening the door. Kyle glanced in first, then held the door open for her. Richard looked like hell, but four days after life-saving surgery and being tumbled around in his vehicle like a margarita shaker, he was alive.
“Good morning—or is it afternoon?” Richard gave her a polite, if vaguely warm, smile. The bruises on his face were a collection of purple and blue, fading to green and yellow at the edges. A thin row of stitches vanished into his hairline and his right wrist was in a cast. The rest of his bandages were hidden beneath the dreadfully unflattering hospital gown.
“Afternoon.” Anna pulled a chair over to the side of the bed. A hint of Charlie’s aftershave still lingered amid the antiseptic hospital scents. It didn’t surprise her, she knew he came every single day—sometimes twice. “Actually, it’s late afternoon. The party is in a few hours.”
“Sorry I’m going to miss it.” But the dry humor in the words amused her.
“Four times the security, press that is already camped out to catch early arrivals, and a guest list that features everything from celebrities to foreign dignitaries?” She lifted her eyebrows.
“Okay. Not that sorry.” He chuckled briefly, but the laugh quickly turned to a wince and a cough. “Sorry—hurts to laugh.”
“Then I’ll try not to be funny.” She set her purse down and clasped her hands together. She thought about this visit several times on the ride over, but she was here as much to see him and have the tangible proof that he was still with them as she was to talk to him.
“How’s he doing?” Richard’s gaze fixed on her steadily.
“I don’t know. He’s…retreating and isolating himself. I keep thinking we get a little closer and then he pushes me away again.” Moistening her lips, Anna shook her head. It was so much more than that. At night, in his bed, he held her, made love to her, let her be there for him and it was perfect. But during the day, he may as well have been a million miles away. He’d erected a wall between them—a wall with no gates, no windows, no place to pass through—and she didn’t know how to bring it down.
If she could.
