LITMIR.BIZ

Скачать книгу

      It was the last thought she had before darkness carried her away.

      TWO

      Holding hands with Rayne Sampson was not how Chance had planned to spend his evening. As a matter of fact, the only thing he’d planned on holding was the remote for the television. He’d figured he deserved a couple of hours of downtime. It had been a long day.

      A long week.

      A long month.

      A long year.

      And now he was sitting in a hospital room, holding hands with a woman he’d been trying hard to avoid for the better part of two months.

      He frowned, slipping his hand from hers.

      Frowned again when she didn’t move.

      He touched the side of her neck the way he had when he’d found her unconscious in her crumbled car, let his fingers linger on smooth skin and steady pulse.

      “Don’t worry. I haven’t died, yet,” she grumbled, and he let his hand drop away.

      “Yet?”

      “The way my head is pounding, I’m thinking my brain might explode.” Her eyes opened slowly. Eyes the color of Loon Lake in early spring. Misty green-blue. He’d noticed them the day they’d met. Had told himself not to, but he’d been noticing them ever since, anyway.

      “Let’s hope it doesn’t. Kane won’t be happy if you die on my watch.”

      “I hope he won’t be happy if I die, period.” She flashed a smile that brought out the deep dimple in her cheek. Pretty. Wholesome. Not at all the way Jessica had been. No sultry allure or boldly painted lips. Rayne was all about subtle color and natural beauty.

      “You remember Kane?”

      “Sure. We spoke several times when I interviewed for my job with his company. I was really excited when he said he wanted to hire me. A new job. A new life,” she mumbled, and he thought she might drift off again.

      “Was that the plan?” In the seven weeks he’d known her, he hadn’t asked why she’d moved from Arizona to Washington. Hadn’t asked a hundred questions that he’d wanted to ask, because asking would have meant interest, and he couldn’t allow himself to be interested again. To fall again.

      Heart.

      Soul.

      Mind.

      He’d done it once.

      Had proven just how little he knew about what it meant to make it work. Failure hadn’t been in his vocabulary, but he’d failed anyway. Hadn’t given enough of himself, spent enough time, done enough to maintain what he’d been so eager to start.

      “The plan? I don’t know if I had one. I just wanted to get away from …”

      “What?”

      “Sometimes a person just needs a fresh start.”

      “I can understand that.” He’d made his own fresh start two years ago. Come back to the place he’d grown up, tried to put the past and all its mistakes behind him.

      “Yeah, well, it looks like I’m getting another fresh start. Maybe you can fill me in on a few things.” She rubbed the bridge of her nose, her face pale, the bump on her head deep blue and green.

      “Like what?”

      “When did we meet? How did I end up renting an apartment from your mother? Are we just coworkers or are we more?” she asked.

      Straightforward.

      Unapologetic.

      Handling the situation in the same forthright manner she handled clients. He’d admired that, admired a lot of things about Rayne.

      “We’re coworkers. We attend the same church. Your apartment is in my mother’s attic. Kane knew my mother was looking for a tenant, and he knew you were looking for a place to stay. He mentioned it to me.” Chance had seen it as a win-win situation. His mother occupied with a renter who had a baby. Rayne provided with a comfortable home.

      “So, we see each other outside of work sometimes?”

      “Yes.”

      “That explains it, then.”

      “Explains what?”

      “I can’t remember anything after I left Phoenix, but your eyes are familiar.” She blushed, pink coloring her pale cheeks.

      “Like I said, we’re not strangers, but we’re not anything more than coworkers, either.”

      “Good.”

      “Good? I think I’m insulted,” he said, and she smiled, flashing her dimple.

      “It’s nothing personal. I mean, if I were going to date again, I wouldn’t discount you out of hand.”

      “That very … magnanimous of you.”

      “That’s a big word, Chance, and my head is pounding too hard for a witty response. So how about I just say I’m out of the dating game and happy to be, and we leave it at that?”

      “We can do that.”

      “Thanks.” She closed her eyes, fell silent, and he let the conversation die.

      She looked pale and fragile, her golden hair matted and stained with blood, but she was in better shape than her totaled car. It had flipped at least once when she ran off the road, and if she hadn’t been wearing a seat belt, she’d probably be dead.

      He frowned, pacing across the room and staring out the window. Streetlights illuminated the parking lot, gleaming off the icy pavement. Not a good night for anyone to be out. Especially not someone who wasn’t used to driving in slick conditions.

      But Rayne had left a client and driven to the airport. Why? It was a question he wanted to ask. One he knew she couldn’t answer. Below the window, someone moved through the parking lot, sticking to the shadows, avoiding the golden glow of the streetlights. Something about the figure’s furtive movements made the hair on the back of Chance’s neck stand on end.

      As a chaplain in the army, he’d been in his share of danger zones. He knew the hair-raising, blood-pulsing feeling of impending trouble.

      Someone was in my room.

      That’s what Rayne had said, and he’d chalked her fear up to head injury and confusion.

      Maybe there was something more to it, though.

      Something more than the cleaning crew or her imagination.

      Footsteps sounded in the hall, and Chance tensed, turning as the door swung open.

      A balding man in his mid-fifties stepped into the room. Lab coat buttoned, stethoscope hanging from his pocket, he pulled Rayne’s chart from the end of the bed, glancing at it as he greeted Chance. “I’m Dr. Donahue. I’ll be the attending physician while Ms. Sampson is here.”

      “That shouldn’t be too long, Doctor. I’m planning on leaving as soon as you unhook me from this IV,” Rayne said without opening her eyes.

      “How about we see how you’re doing before we talk about getting the IV out or going home?” The doctor flashed a light in Rayne’s eyes, asked a few questions that she could answer, a few that she couldn’t.

      Chance should probably go.

      Probably.

      But he didn’t.

      Being a chaplain had hardwired him to be concerned for the sick and the struggling. Rayne was both.

      That was a good enough reason to stay, but there were other reasons as well.

      He might have spent the better part of two months avoiding her, but he hadn’t been able to

Скачать книгу