Dream Lover (9 page)

“I could have very well walked to the couch.”

“I know,” he replied. He laid her down on the couch and covered her up with a blanket.

She sneezed.

“Bless you.”

“Thank you.”

He walked back by the door and pick up the bags. Unable to contain her curiosity, she
rose up on her elbows and peeked at him. “What's in the bags?”

He looked over his shoulder at her and smiled. Holding one bag up at a time he said, “Clothes, and food.”

At her raised eyebrow, he continued. “The clothes are so I don't have to leave to go to my place to change. And I know all Randi made you was a can of that processed crap soup, so I'm going to make you some real soup.”

So Randi
had
told. She'd had a feeling that Randi would tell John that she was sick. She didn't expect him to show up so fast.

It was too late to complain now. He was here and he wasn't going anywhere. She laid back down covering her hand with her face. Soon she felt John's strong hand moving her hand and replacing it with his own on her forehead.

“You clearly have a fever,” he mumbled. Then he stood and grabbed his bags. “I'll put these in the guest room,” he said holding up one bag. “Then I'll get started on your soup. Do you need anything?”

She pointed to a piece of paper on the coffee table. “I went to the doctor this morning.” She coughed then continued. “He called in a prescription for me, but I haven't gone to pick it up yet.”

He nodded. “Once your soup is done, I'll go pick it up for you.”

She sneezed then nodded, laying her head back on the pillow.

“Johnny,” she whispered. He turned to look at her. “I'm glad you're here.”

He walked back over to her and leaned down and kissed her on her warm forehead. “Get some rest,” was all he said, but in his eyes he was telling her
where else would I be?

Liz had a fitful sleep, coughing and sneezing. Soon the smells of fresh chicken noodle soup filled her nostrils and John's deep voice filled her ears.

“Peaches, wake up honey, you have to eat.”

She felt weak, but she pushed herself up slightly and opened her eyes to see a spoon in her face. She took a sip of the soup. John was right, his was much better than the stuff out of the can.

“That's it sweetheart,” she heard him say, “
Eat some more.”

The warmth of the soup going down her throat was soothing. She felt full after eating about half of the soup. She flopped back against the couch and shook her head letting him know she could eat no more.

“You did good Peaches.”

She felt herself being lifted and carried to her bedroom. She snuggled into the crook of his neck and wrapped her arms around him. Soon she felt her plush bed underneath her and her soft covers surrounding her.

She vaguely heard John whisper something in her ear. Something about her prescription? She just nodded to whatever he said. Then she allowed the sleep to claim her completely.

True to his word, John never left, except for the one time to pick up her prescription. He couldn't remember a time seeing Liz so sick. Besides feeding her and giving her medicine, he also straightened up around the place. Later that night, he went and checked her temperature, feeling her forehead. Her fever had gone down considerably. As he prepared to get up to leave, she rolled over and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Don't go,” he heard her mumble into the pillow.

His heart began pounding rapidly in his chest. Even with her sick, the feeling of her wrapped around him in such a way made him feel amazing. This felt so right. This felt like the way things should be. He ran his hand across her hair.

“I'll stay for a little while,” he whispered.

He smiled as she nodded and felt her squeeze him tighter. He kicked off his shoes and slid further down in the bed, then gathered her up in his arms. With her head on his chest, he continued to stroke her hair and watched her sleep.

An hour later, she hadn't moved. “Peaches,” he whispered. “Peaches, I'm going to go to the guestroom.” As soon as he began to move, she squeezed him tighter. She didn't say anything, but her actions spoke volumes, whether she realized it or not.

This time he
lay all the way down in the bed with her, and held her well after he'd fallen asleep. He stayed with her for the next three days and slept with her every night.

Liz opened her eyes to darkness. She looked over to the clock and saw the time. It was four in the morning. She felt much better than she had in days and she knew why. She felt the weight of his strong arm draped possessively around her waist. She tried to move gently so she wouldn't wake him, but the minute she moved, he pulled her tighter in his arms. She rolled around in his arms to face him.

He was still asleep. The moon was shining through the window, casting a glow on his face. He looked absolutely beautiful. He looked, as he’d recently described her, absolutely delectable.
His facial features were strong, with his high, yet masculine cheekbones.  She reached up to touch his cheek, but quickly pulled her hand away, thinking the touch she was about to place on his cheek was reserved for lovers.

As she continued to stare at him, his eyes slowly opened. A look of heavy desire filled his eyes. She looked away and tried to search her scrambled mind for something to say. She could hardly think with the way he was holding her and gazing at her.

"I am famished," she blurted out.

He didn't say anything right
away; he just continued to stare at her.

Then he said, "I'll go heat you up some soup."

She shook her head. "I'm tired of soup. I'm ready for real food." As if on cue, her stomach began to growl.

He was still staring at her. He slowly raised one arm up, while continuing to hold her tightly with the other arm, and placed the back of his hand on her forehead. He smiled, looking pleased with himself. "Your fever is finally gone. What do you want to eat?"

She shrugged. "I-I don't know."

He smiled at her again and pulled her closer. "Well, that's a first."

Then they fell into silence again. She realized his hand was still on her face, now caressing it so softly. Her pulse quickened. She knew she should have moved away, especially when his face crept closer to hers, but she couldn't find the power to move. He placed a kiss as soft as a feather on her lips.

"You'll get sick," she whispered.

Satisfied that she didn't really try to stop him, he said, "I'll take my chances."

Then he kissed her again. This time it was deeper.

She sighed into his mouth and as she did, he took advantage of her open mouth and dipped his tongue inside. She couldn't resist putting her arms around his neck and folding into him.

Sensing her acceptance of the kiss, he groaned and slipped his hand under her shirt and began to explore her body. She could feel her temperature rising and it wasn't because of any cold. His hands moved down to her hips and pulled her closer. She could feel his need for her.

Suddenly she was hit with the full impact of what was going on. They were in her bed, making out, probably very close to doing other things. She broke off the kiss and scrambled out of his arms. She ran her hand nervously through her hair. "Why do keep doing this?" she whispered more to herself than to him.

"Because it feels good."

She whirled around to see him standing. She hadn't even heard him move. She shook her head. "Just because something feels good doesn't make it right."

He stepped around the bed. "And who says it's not right?"

"Me."

"
You?
On what basis? That we're friends? We've had that discussion before Lizzie."

"And I still believe it John."

He shook his head. "I don't buy it. And the sooner you accept the truth, the better."

She folded her arms defiantly and asked, "What truth is that?"

"That I'm falling in love with you and you are falling in love with me too."

She dropped her hands to her side and stared at him shocked.

"We are
not
falling in love each other."

"I'm sure we are."

"You're sure?"

"Yes."

"How? How are you so sure?"

He took a few steps closer and pointed to the bed. "Do you honestly feel what just went on in that bed wasn't right?"

She shook her head. “That kiss was just a lapse in judgment."

"That first kiss, the night of the party, might have been, but not this one. This one was meant to be and you wanted it just as much as I did."

She stared at him confused. He pointed at the bed again. "I've slept in that bed with you every night I've been here taking care of you. Every time I got ready to go to the guest room,
you
would grab me and tell me not to leave. You wanted me there Peaches, whether you realize it or not."

She tried to search her memory, but she was still a little groggy.

"Laying with you, sleeping with you in that bed...nothing has ever felt as right as that. Not since I knew I wanted to open my own restaurant."

She knew she might regret saying her name after the last time but she decided to risk his wrath. "Not even when you wanted to marry Susan?"

He laughed a sad laugh. "With Susan it was just a series of steps. We met and dated. Then we fell in love, or so I thought. The only logical next step was to get married. But it wasn't true love."

She didn't know what to say. "I still need time."

He nodded and walked to the door. "Do you need anything?"

"No. I can manage now. Thank you for taking care of me."

He turned to look at her, and caressed her cheek. "You know I'll always take care of you Lizzie. Call me if you need anything."

He turned to leave and stopped with his hand on door handle. "You know even if you're not falling in love with me now, you will. I'll make sure of it."

She laughed in spite of herself. "Ha! John you are crazy."

He turned leaned over and gave her a deep quick kiss. He inhaled loving her scent, then exhaled through his nose and murmured, "We'll see."

We'll see.

Those words reverberated in Liz's mind.

Try as she might, she could not focus on the task at hand. She was in the process of creating a new sculpture. But there was only one thing on her mind. The words resounded over and over.

I'm falling in love with you and you are falling in love with me too.

Who did he think he was, she wondered as she squeezed the clay in her hands. She looked down when she realized she wasn't making anything productive.

As she was cleaning her hands, the ringing phone interrupted her thoughts.

“Good morning Elizabeth.”

“Oh good morning Mr. Randall,” she responded to her manager at the museum.

“Do you have a minute to talk?”

“Of course.” She wondered if he was going to offer her the job full time again.

“I know you are not interested in working here full time at the moment. Never the less, there is a conference coming up for innovative restoration techniques and I was wondering if you would be interested in attending.”

Before she could speak, he continued. “The conference is a week long and we would take care of all of your expenses.”

A week long, all expense paid trip would be exactly what she needed to put some space between her and John so she could clear her head.

“Mr. Randall, I'd be more than happy to attend the conference!”

“Great, I'll have my secretary send you all of the information! You will fly out for Seattle next Friday.”

Three days had passed since John had spoke to Liz. He was doing his very best to give her the time she needed to think.

It was now Saturday morning, a week since the ball. A week since that first kiss. He was in the kitchen keeping an eye on the door and the clock. She hadn't come for breakfast yet. She had never missed breakfast, not even last week on the morning of the ball. He looked over and saw her plate waiting.

He knew she was scared, and that there was a chance that pursuing her might push her away for a time, but he hoped she would come to her senses and accept their fate.

He looked at the clock again. He'd had enough. Not everything had to change. She still had to eat and he knew she wasn't going to cook.

“Paul,” he called over his shoulder throwing down a towel after wiping his hands on it. “I'm going to walk the floor.”

Paul simply nodded and continued to work. He grabbed her plate and shoved the swinging door open and almost collided into the one person he'd wanted to see the most for the last three days. She had an odd look on her face. They both stood there staring at each other for several moments before he realized that others
might be staring at the two of them. He smiled at her and spoke first. “I didn't think you were going to show up.”