Authors: Susan Mallery
Chapter Two
Alistair didn’t believe in angels, yet every time the
fever threatened to suck him down into a place he shouldn’t go, the angel was
there. Blond, with large hazel eyes and a soothing voice. She talked softly,
even laughed, and her hands were cool. Sometimes she insisted he eat, but mostly
she was simply a presence.
Time passed, but he couldn’t say how long it had been since
he’d shown up at his friend Simon’s house. He was content to simply sleep and
awaken briefly to be with the angel. Until something sat on him and tried to
kill him.
He opened his eyes to find himself staring at a very large cat
perched on his chest. The black-and-white feline glared at him, as if annoyed to
find a stranger where none should be. Sharp claws dug not so gently into his
chest.
“You’re up,” the angel said, walking into the bedroom. “And
being attacked by Daytona. Sorry. He strolled in this morning and I didn’t think
he would come find you.”
She scooped up the cat and held him in her arms. “How are you
feeling?”
She was both familiar and not. Slowly, his memory filled in the
pieces. His trip to visit Simon and his friend’s wife, Montana. The onset of the
fever. The cough.
“Measles,” he muttered. “I have the measles.”
“You do, and a very impressive rash, too.” The blonde smiled.
“Do you remember me at all?”
“You’re the angel.”
She laughed. “Not exactly, although my Aunt Sophia would be so
proud to hear that.”
He frowned. “She’s a nun.”
“Was, but yes. I’m Paige McLean.” She kissed the top of the
cat’s head. “Let me get Daytona here back to my neighbor and I’ll bring you
something to eat. You must be starving.”
His stomach rumbled. “I am.” He looked at the open window and
the blue sky beyond. “Was I out long?”
“Three days.”
“That’s not possible.”
“And yet,” she told him. “I’ll be back with food in a
minute.”
She left the room. Seconds later, he heard footsteps on the
stairs.
Three days? He thought about how hard he’d been working before
he’d left Southeast Asia and how many of the children in the village had fallen
sick. He should have known better than to travel. Working backwards, he supposed
the good news was that he’d likely become contagious about the time he’d driven
into Fool’s Gold. With luck, no one had been exposed.
He used the bathroom, pausing to stare at the rash covering his
chest and arms. After brushing his teeth, he returned to the bedroom and picked
up his cell phone. He dialed Simon’s number.
“I’ve already notified the CDC,” his friend told him.
Alistair swore. “I never meant to endanger anyone.”
“Per my calculations, you didn’t.”
“That’s what I figured as well,” Alistair said. “I’m hoping
we’re both right.”
“You doing all right?”
“The fever broke and I have a—” He smiled as he remembered
Paige’s comment. “A very impressive rash.”
They finished their conversation. Alistair returned his cell
phone to the nightstand and lifted himself into a sitting position. Between the
trip to the restroom, a brief conversation with his friend and moving around on
the bed, he found himself exhausted. He’d obviously been sicker than he’d
realized.
“Here you go,” Paige said, walking into the bedroom. She
carried a large tray, which she set on his lap.
She pointed to the various mugs, plates and glasses in front of
him. “Tea, because you’re British and I heard you all disintegrate if you don’t
have it daily. A sports drink. Simon said you need electrolytes. I don’t know
exactly what those are, but apparently you’re lacking in them. I’d be
embarrassed about that if I were you. I’m just saying.” She touched a small
plate. “A plain cheese sandwich. The bread is homemade and delicious. Not made
by me, so I’m allowed to say that. Tomato-basil soup, also homemade, but not by
me. And a cupcake, which is probably too much food for you, so I’ll take that
off your hands.”
She grabbed the cupcake and retreated to a wingchair on the
other side of the bed. It looked out of place in the small bedroom and he
wondered if she’d brought it in just so she could sit with him.
He reached for the tea and took a sip. It was perfect. He tried
the soup next. Paige had served it in a mug, which made it easier to drink. He
took a couple of swallows and found it as tasty as she’d promised. Hunger
twisted his stomach and he took several more drinks before looking at her.
“The soup is delicious.”
“I know. I had some last night. Try the sandwich. You’ll
die.”
Exactly what he’d been hoping to avoid. “You have a chef?”
She choked on a piece of the cupcake and coughed before
swallowing. “What? No. Of course not.”
“Then who’s doing all the cooking?”
Her hazel eyes crinkled with amusement. The first time he’d
seen her, she’d worn her long, blond hair back in a ponytail. Now her hair was
loose on her shoulders. With her jeans and T-shirt, she was quintessentially
American. Fresh-faced, pretty, open. Sexy.
“You’ve never been here before, have you?” she asked.
“Here being this town?”
“Fool’s Gold.”
“This is my first visit.”
“Well, it’s the kind of place that welcomes everyone. We take
care of our own. Word got out that you were here and sick and the town
responded.”
“Meaning what?”
She tilted her head. “I work several jobs. I teach yoga, I’m a
part-time receptionist at one of the local fire stations and I have a couple of
shifts at Morgan’s Books.”
“Very industrious.”
“I’m a girl with a plan. Anyway, taking care of you has meant
letting people know I won’t be in for work. One person told another and the town
stepped in. I am currently in possession of enough food to feed much of the
entire state of California. My freezer overflows with all kinds of casseroles. I
also have an assortment of homemade remedies for everything from fever to
warts.”
“I don’t have warts.”
“Not now.” She smiled. She took the last bite of the cupcake
and waved the wrapper. “If you want one of these, there are eleven more
downstairs.”
“Maybe later.”
He’d taken a single bite of the cheese sandwich and found it as
delicious as Paige had promised, but he was already full and getting sleepy.
“Have you really had to miss work to take care of me?” he
asked. “I’m awfully sorry about that.”
“Not a problem. I couldn’t miss all my shifts, so I’ve had a
couple of friends in to watch you while I was gone. You flashed a friend of
mine, by the way. She was both thrilled and intrigued.”
“Flashed?”
“You climbed out of bed wearing nothing but your very manly
briefs. Heidi hasn’t been on a date for a while. She might be by later to check
you out.”
“I’m not sure if I should be flattered or hide.”
“She’s pretty adorable.”
Alistair doubted anyone could be as adorable as Paige. “I
appreciate your care.”
“It’s not a problem. I’m getting plenty of meals out of it.
Plus it’s nice to have someone in the house. Sometimes it gets lonely here.”
He glanced around at the floral wallpaper and the simple white
dresser. “Aunt Sophia had a very nice room.”
“It’s not fancy.”
“For me, it’s a palace.”
“Oooh, and this coming from a man who has probably been in a
palace.”
“Windsor. Buckingham. Mongolian.”
She frowned. “What’s the Mongolian Palace?”
“A great restaurant I know in New York.”
She laughed. “Very funny. You’re feeling better.”
“Exhausted, but yes. I’d flown straight back from Asia. I’d
been working there for six weeks with back-to-back surgeries.”
“I heard you’re a surgeon, like Simon.”
“Yes.” His head started to swim and he was losing a battle to
keep his eyes open. “I work around the world.”
“I’ve always wanted to see the world.”
“I could show you.”
He wasn’t sure if he’d said the words or only thought them.
Because right then everything went dark and he found himself drifting. He
thought he felt the tray being lifted off the bed, then cool, gentle hands
stroked his forehead.
“Sleep well, My Lord.”
He smiled.
Something soft touched his cheek. Instinctively, he turned,
wanting more of whatever that was, but it was too late. Exhaustion claimed him
and the opportunity was lost.
Chapter Three
Paige fingered the worn pages, studying the stamps. So
many different countries, she thought. Some were from places she’d never even
heard of.
“Going through my things?”
She looked up and saw that Alistair was awake again. He looked
better than he had. More rested, with normal coloring.
Over the past couple of days, much of his rash had faded. He’d
basically been eating and sleeping, the latter more than the former.
She held up his passport. “Of course. What else was I going to
do to pass the time? You’ve been to very interesting places. I don’t suppose
you’d tell me about them?”
“I’d love to, but on the condition that I get to eat.”
“Done.”
“At a table. Like a real person.”
She stood and looked down at him. “Seriously? You want to come
downstairs?”
“Yes, but first I want to take a shower.”
“You are kind of stinky,” she agreed. “You also need a shave. I
didn’t think viscounts were supposed to be scruffy.”
“Scruffy is our best look.”
It was a good look for him, she was willing to admit. The dark
stubble contrasted with his blue eyes. The man had the bone structure of a god,
and while he wasn’t the least bit smelly, it made her feel better to tease him.
After all, he was titled, smart, well-educated and well-traveled and, hey, a
gifted surgeon. While she was a small-town girl with many jobs but no career.
Someone who had always planned to make something of her life, but so far
hadn’t.
“A shower it is,” she said. “But be careful. I’m not in the
mood to come rescue you, so if you fall you’ll just be lying there, naked and
shivering.”
“An unattractive visual. I will be careful.”
She collected clean clothes for him and put out fresh towels,
then waited while he stood. He was a little weak, but seemed to have
rediscovered his balance. She hovered until he made it into the bathroom, then
went downstairs to prepare lunch.
There were dozens of choices from all the food people had
dropped off. In the end she decided on a spring vegetable soup with a second
course of pesto and cheese ravioli. She cut up some fruit for dessert. Somehow,
in the past couple of days, the cupcakes had mysteriously disappeared.
“Not my fault,” she said aloud. “I’ve had company.”
“Anyone I know?”
“A couple of my friends stopped by and—”
She turned and saw Alistair standing in the doorway to the
small kitchen. He was showered and shaved, wearing a shirt and jeans. His feet
were bare and he looked pale and thin, but still handsome. And as if he were
going to fall over any second.
“Did you walk or slide down the stairs?” she asked, crossing to
him.
“A little of both.”
She put her arm around his waist and led him through the
kitchen and out the back door. She’d quickly set the table with place mats and
napkins. Now she led Alistair over to a chair.
He sank onto the seat and smiled at her.
“Beautiful.”
For a second she found herself lost in his blue eyes. There was
an odd sensation in her chest—like a fluttering that had her wondering if she
could actually speak or only stammer.
“The yard,” she managed.
“That, too.”
Flustered, she smoothed the front of her shirt. “Let me, um,
get you something to drink.”
She bolted for the kitchen and poured a glass of water and a
sports drink. Before carrying them outside, she drew in a breath and told
herself not to be an idiot. Yes, Alistair was a good-looking man who made her
heart beat faster. But not only did she know absolutely nothing about him, he
was only in town for a few days. She had to get a grip.
She carried out the drinks, then the soup. When she was seated
across from him, he spoke.
“More offerings from chefs other than you?” he asked.
“You remembered.”
“I did. Although I am curious how long I was out this
time.”
“Two days of impressive sleep. Did you notice—the rash is
nearly gone?”
“I did notice. You’ve been very good to me.”
“I am a saint. Besides, it wasn’t so bad. You’re an interesting
talker.”
He paused in the act of carrying a spoonful of soup to his
mouth. “I was talking?”
“In your sleep? Yes.” She cleared her throat and went for what
she hoped was a casual tone. “So, um, who is Sara?”
“My wife.”
Paige’s stomach sank to her toes and then went looking for
lower ground. She felt herself flushing as she remembered all the silly,
romantic thoughts she’d had about the man.
“So you’re—”
“A widower. Sara and our baby daughter were killed a few years
ago. A car accident.” His eyes darkened, as if he’d emotionally retreated to a
difficult memory. “It was horribly sad.”
“Of course. I’m so sorry.”
“Thank you. I was gone when it happened.” He looked at her
across the table. “I’m sure Simon has mentioned that I work extensively
overseas.”
“Yes. He told me you travel the world, operating on poor
children.” Fixing the ravages of birth defects and accidents, giving those
children a chance at looking just like everyone else. Something most people took
for granted.
“Sara and I grew up together. We’re from the same village.”
“You have your own village?”
He smiled. “No. I lived in a village.” The smile faded. “She
was always there, in the background. I suppose our getting married was
inevitable. But she never wanted to stray far from home, so after we were
married, she stayed put and I went off to work. When she had our daughter, the
decision seemed sensible.”
“Then they were killed,” Paige murmured.
“Exactly. I was devastated. I buried myself in work even more
than I had before. Apparently too much. I was trying to forget, I suppose. As
that will never happen, I’ve been attempting to find peace. I ended up sick and
intruding upon you.”
“You’re a nice intrusion.”
“Thank you.” He finished his soup and glanced around the yard.
“This is charming.”
She looked at the tall trees, the flowers by the fence and the
cut grass. “It’s your basic backyard. I like it. There was plenty of space to
play when I was growing up.” She lowered her voice. “I had to make do with toys,
what with not having a village of my own.”
“You’re mocking me.”
“A little. It’s fun.”
She collected their bowls and returned to the kitchen where she
quickly warmed the pasta and spooned on the sauce. Then she carried the food
outside.
“You have a doctor’s appointment tomorrow,” she said.
“I do?”
“Simon arranged it. He wants to confirm that you’re no longer
contagious. Although I suspect he’ll want you to wait a couple more days before
going to see them. What with Montana being pregnant and all and him being
something of a worrier.”
He glanced at her. “I should move into a hotel.”
“No, you shouldn’t. You’re already here and I don’t mind. As I
said before, you’re interesting company.”
“If I talk in my sleep, I must be a bit frightening.”
“Not so much. Tell me about some of the places you’ve
been.”
“How much detail do you want?”
“As much as you’re willing to give. I’ve never been
anywhere.”
“Most people ask about where I’ve traveled to and then their
eyes glaze over when I answer.”
She laughed. “Mine won’t. I promise.” She scooted closer. “I’ve
always wanted to travel. While I’m interested in the tourist sights, I’ve also
always wanted the chance to really explore a place. Settle in for a few weeks
and get to know the people.”
“You find other cultures interesting?”
“Of course. There’s so much I assume about the world because of
how I was raised. Knowing in my head that everyone has a different life
experience is one thing, but actually getting to talk to people, to see life
through their eyes, so to speak, fascinates me.”
She drew in a breath and shrugged. “Sorry. I get carried
away.”
“Not at all. Your passion is intriguing.”
She shifted so she was sitting cross-legged on the chair. “Tell
me about Africa. No, India. What an amazing country. What is Mumbai like?”
“Crowded. Loud. The population is over twelve million, or
twenty thousand people per square kilometer. There’s a large immigrant
population, of course and a…” His voice trailed off. “Now I’m the one who was
carried away. As you can see, I’m not good at casual conversation.”
“Keep talking,” she told him. “I’m interested.”
He studied her for a second, before nodding. “When I go there,
I stay at an ashram. A friend of mine runs it. There is a kind of peace in the
middle of everything else going on. He comes with me when I visit prospective
patients. Parents and their children. His presence calms us all.”
Alistair talked of beautiful sunrises, of sacred cows and the
Muslim call to prayers. He mentioned going to South America. A river trip down
the Amazon, of glancing into his mirror while shaving one morning to find
himself being watched by a jaguar. Of waking up and realizing he was sharing his
bed with a python.
“I’m not sure I could keep from screaming,” Paige said.
“I did scream,” he admitted with a grin. “Like a little girl. I
horrified nearly five centuries of ancestors. I felt them collectively turning
over in their graves.”
They finished the pasta and she brought out fruit and coffee.
As they lingered over the table, he talked about the patients he treated and the
lives he changed. He showed her pictures on his phone. She saw smiling children
with features restored. Happy families, grateful parents.
“Your work is a miracle,” she said, passing him back his
phone.
“No. I was given a gift and I use it to help others. It’s
nothing so complicated as a miracle.”
“It is to the people you help. Do you get lonely?”
“All the time. I work with a team, but the people on it changes
frequently. Different doctors come and go. I tend to stay in a place for six to
eight weeks, then move on.”
“Sounds like heaven.”
“It can be.”
“Sara never wanted to go with you?” she asked.
“No. She wanted to stay in her corner of home.”
“I would have been right beside you,” Paige said without
thinking, then held up both hands. “Don’t be afraid. I’m not inviting myself
along on your next trip.”
“I wouldn’t mind if you did.”
She laughed. “You’re very kind.”
“I’m not kind at all. You’re an intriguing woman, Paige.
Opening your house to a stranger.”
“A stranger who talks in his sleep.” She studied him. “My aunt
would have liked you.”
“High praise.”
“You can’t know that,” she said, but pleased by his statement
even so.
“I can guess. You said she gave up everything to raise
you.”
Paige smiled at the memory. “She was wonderful. She’d made the
decision to become a nun early in life and was a novitiate by the time she was
nineteen. After my parents died, she came to care for me, leaving her life as a
nun. I still remember her telling me that we were going to learn to be a family
together.”
Her smile faded a little. “As a five-year-old, I didn’t
understand what a massive transition she must have gone through. She’d never
held a job in the ‘regular’ world, although hers was a teaching order, so she
was used to a classroom. Still, she had to figure out how to pay bills and
manage a household while raising me.”
“Which she did,” he said.
Paige nodded. “With grace and love. Money wasn’t an issue. My
parents had planned ahead. There was an insurance policy that paid off the
mortgage and left enough to cover our basic needs. Aunt Sophia became a teacher
here in town. She was special.”
She loved with all she had, Paige thought, missing the woman
who had meant so much to her.
“I was lucky to have her,” she added. “Neither of my parents
had any other family. Sophia and I took care of each other.”
As she spoke, she was aware of his blue gaze, steady on her
face. And that his blinks were getting longer and slower.
“All right,” she said, coming to her feet. “Let’s get you back
to bed.”
Alistair’s expression went from sleepy attention to complete
awareness in a matter of a heartbeat. For a second, she found herself being
studied in a way that could only be called sexual. Tension filled the space
between them. For the life of her, Paige wasn’t sure if she should throw herself
into his arms or run screaming into the afternoon.
As it was bright and late spring, the latter seemed kind of
silly. As to the former…it was an idea she could get used to, she thought.
“Because I was ill,” he said, as if to clarify.
“Right. You haven’t been out of bed this long in days. You must
be exhausted.”
“I’m more tired than I would like to admit.” He rose. “First
let me help you with the dishes.”
She laughed. “I can manage.”
“I’m actually very good at washing up.”
“Part of your viscount training?”
“Of course. We are required to take a washing-up course before
our tenth birthday. By royal decree.”
She started for the back door. “You can show me your fancy
skills tomorrow. Right now you need to rest or you’ll relapse. I don’t want to
have to explain to Simon why his friend isn’t getting better.”
Alistair walked around the table. “All right, but tomorrow the
dishes are on me.”
“I look forward to it.”
They walked toward the back door. Once they reached the door,
he motioned for her to go first, then followed. He walked past her in the
kitchen, his arm brushing hers. She was aware of heat and a voice whispering
that handsome, charming men could be very dangerous to a woman’s heart.
He was just passing through. In a few days he would be gone and
she would return to her regular routine. Better for both of them if she
remembered that and didn’t try to make their time together more than it was.