High Stakes (16 page)

“Thanks. Me, too, with you. Man, I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this.” He nodded to the uniform Jimmy wore. “Dressed for the occasion, I see.”

Pulling out of the alleyway and onto a side street that led to MacDougal, they started uptown. A drizzle of snow fell silently, making the roads slippery but visibility was still good. “If the lady in question is not under duress, I thought official garb might make an explanation easier.”

“I swear something’s wrong, Jimmy. I’m not stalking her or anything like that.”

“So Bailey says.” He socked Dylan’s arm. “Your baby sister did good.”

“Yeah, though I think she’d prefer a quiet life.”

“If I had married her and she got into gang stuff, it wouldn’t have worked, anyway.”

Dylan looked at the man. Taller than he remembered, Jimmy had the shoulders of the linebacker that he’d been and a full head of sandy brown hair. “I know you dated your senior year, but I never realized it was that serious.”

“It was for me.” Nostalgia tinged his voice.

“Ah.”

“So, you like being part of a famous family?”

The flashing lights of oncoming cars shone in Dylan’s eyes and he averted his gaze to the side. “No. None of us do. But you know us. We’d do anything for Bailey.”

“Hell, don’t remind me. I remember Patrick coming back to the high school after he graduated and cornering me in the locker room. Bailey and I had a spat and she wasn’t happy—so he wasn’t either.”

Dylan chuckled. “And as soon as Pat moved out, one of the others of us took over.” They continued to drive. “How’s your kid?”

“Good. The people from ESCAPE found her but they did even more. Gave her individual counseling and all of us some family therapy. She’s back home and in school. So, see, I owe Bailey big-time.”

They made small talk until they reached Rachel’s condo. Jimmy swerved over in front of the building into a No Parking spot. “This is it, right?”

Dylan nodded. They exited the car and Jimmy took a small case out of the backseat. “Tools to break in?”

“Uh-huh. We don’t always knock the doors down like they do on TV.”

They reached the front entrance, unnoticed because no one was around. After a few clicks, Jimmy twisted open the handle. Then he did the same with the unit on the left. When they entered, Dylan stilled. Something was definitely wrong. The whole place, which before had smelled like potpourri, now smelled like a sickroom. And the heat was up to kingdom come.

“What’s the sound?” Jimmy asked, his hand on his gun. Jesus, Dylan hadn’t even thought about an intruder.

“I don’t know.”

“Let me go first.”

Behind Jimmy, Dylan strode down the hallway to the kitchen, which led to the living room and bedrooms; both of them stopped short.

Dylan whispered, “Oh, my God.”

The sound was coming from a phone that had not been disconnected. It sat in Rachel’s lap. She lay stretched out on the couch, her hand on her head, in fuzzy pajamas.

Dylan circled the sofa and knelt down. Her hair was so damp it looked like she’d washed it. Her cheeks were apple red. He put his hand on one and felt the heat. A lot of heat. His pulse escalated. “She’s got a fever and God knows what else.” He saw a pail next to the couch. “We need to get her to the hospital.”

“I’ll put up the light on the car. It’ll be faster than calling an ambulance.” Jimmy’s steadiness helped Dylan focus.

Rachel stirred. “What…?” She tried to open her eyes, and moaned. Clutched her stomach. Finally she blinked at him. “Dylan, what…? Oh, God, I feel terrible.”

“You’ve been sick for days. I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“Too personal,” she mumbled after her eyes closed again.

“Can’t be helped. Come on, sit up.”

Her head lolled and he propped her against pillows, then went to the closet and got out a down coat. He drew her forward. “Rachel, honey, help me get this on you.”

Her arms were floppy, but he finally eased them through the sleeves, zippered her up and scooped her into his arms. “Get the blanket, Jimmy. And her purse for insurance cards.”

“Got ‘em.”

They hurried out the doors, down the steps and into the car. Dylan sat in the backseat and held Rachel on his lap. Jimmy put the light on the hood and turned on the siren. The sudden screech hurt his ears. The men exchanged looks in the rearview mirror. Rachel was really sick.

When they reached the emergency entrance at Memorial Hospital, Dylan handed her out to Jimmy, then took her back when he exited the vehicle. With Rachel securely against his chest, Dylan hurried inside. The sounds of phones ringing and low chatter with occasional bursts of shouts met them.

Sometimes staff in emergency rooms were on the ball; sometimes they weren’t. Tonight he was surrounded by two women in scrubs and a man with a wheelchair. They pressed Rachel into it-and the man took her pulse and temperature. “No time for check in. Get her back into a treatment room, stat.”

The nurse behind the desk said, “Can you give us information on the patient, sir?”

“Nope, not now.”

“I’m sorry, but you—” The words hit his retreating back.

He heard Jimmy say, “I’m Captain Cranston of the NYPD. I have Ms. Scott’s information.”

Rachel was installed in room six, which housed a bed, nightstand and a straight chair. One of the women ordered saline and cooling blankets, and the other went to fetch them. “What happened?” she asked as they waited and she wiped Rachel’s face with a cloth.

“She’s been sick for three days. Vomiting and fever.”

“Her temperature is 105. Why didn’t you bring her in sooner, sir?”

“I’m… I just…” The saline arrived before he could finish, and while they hooked her up and covered her, Dylan had time to formulate an answer. If he said he was a friend, they’d make him leave. So he lied to the medical personnel. “I was out of town and just got back. When I spoke with her on the phone, she said she wasn’t sick enough for a hospital.”

The nurse’s face was stern when she turned to him. “Well, she’s a very sick woman.”

A spurt of fear turned into panic as he watched them work on Rachel.

Rachel awoke slowly. Her body ached all over. But the jackhammers that had been going off in her head were muted now, as if they were tired. Like her. Fatigue filled her and when she tried to move, she realized she was too weak to even turn to her side.

“Hey, there, sleepyhead.” Dylan O’Neil’s sexy drawl. She must be dreaming of him.

Slowly, she lifted her lids. There he sat, on the chair, in… Where was she? She scanned her surroundings, sniffed. “I’m in a hospital?”

“That you are, darlin’.”

“How’d I get here?”

A little bit of devil appeared in his eyes. She noticed a growth of stubble on his jaw. “I brought you here. Carried you in your pj’s.”

“I don’t understand.” Her words were slurred.

“It’s a long story and I’ll tell it all to you, but before anybody comes back, I kinda lied and said I was your husband, or they wouldn’t have let me stay with you.”

Briefly she closed her eyes, picturing him as hers. “Mmm.”

“Jesus, woman, how can you sound sexy even when you’re sicker than the proverbial dog?”

She took in a deeper breath, and it didn’t hurt too much. “How sick am I? And what’s wrong with me?”

“They think it’s food poisoning.”

“Seriously? What’d I get it from?”

“We don’t know yet. They’re running tests to see what kind you have.”

“I can’t even remember what day it is, let alone what I ate.” She managed to lift her arm but winced in the process. “An IV?”

“Saline. You were dehydrated, and they put you in cooling blankets because of the fever. They also gave you something for the nausea after you threw up all over a nurse.”

Her head came off the pillow but only for moment. “Oh, Dylan. Tell me you’re joking.”

“Sorry. I’m not this time.”

She glanced around the room as if she was searching for something. “How long have I been in the ER?”

He checked his watch. “Twelve hours.”

“Seriously? You stayed all this time?” Even though she was sick, the thought pleased her.

Again, he didn’t joke. “I was worried about you, Rach.” His voice cracked on the last word. Concern deepened the blue of his eyes to midnight. She was overcome with his thoughtfulness, his caring.

“Dylan…”

The nurse came in, keeping her from saying…something she probably shouldn’t say.

When the woman asked, Dylan stepped outside the room.

She was blond and pretty. As she replaced the IV, she chattered. “Nice guy you got there, Ms. Scott. He wouldn’t leave your side, unless we were taking samples or doing tests. The nurses felt sorry for him and brought him coffee and food.”

“I’ll bet.” Dylan attracted the opposite sex like flies. “How long do I have to stay here?”

“You can go home later in the day. You were very sick and you’re still weak.”

When she finished, Dylan returned and sat back on the straight chair. Suddenly, exhaustion reclaimed her. Her eyes wanted to close, but she tried to keep them open. “I have to stay for a while.”

“I heard.”

“Go home,” she said, shutting her eyes. ”Sure thing, doll. You go to sleep.”

Rachel awoke again. She couldn’t tell if it was day or night as this was an interior room. Turning her head to the side, she saw Dylan, stretched out on a padded lounger, sound asleep. She looked down. He’d tucked her hand inside his. Rachel sighed and drifted off again.

“Here’s your tea and toast, milady.” Dylan set the tray on Rachel’s lap and smiled. The steam from the drink curled over the cup, a flowery scent with it, but he still didn’t understand anybody’s proclivity for the beverage.

“Thank you, Dylan. Sit with me?”

He dropped down onto the comfortable chair he’d dragged from the corner of her bedroom when he’d brought her home. He’d made himself some coffee and sipped it. “You look a hell of a lot better now.”

She did. Her cheeks had lost the burning red of fever and now sported a rosy blush. The hospital personnel helped her shower and wash her hair before she’d left this afternoon, so her locks hung in waves down past her shoulders. He’d picked up a sweat suit for her to come home in because he guessed she wouldn’t want to leave in pajamas she’d worn to the hospital. The pink highlighted her complexion. Damned if she wasn’t beautiful, even after her ordeal.

She nodded to
his
outfit. “I’ve never seen you in jock clothes.”

Glancing down at the navy blue sweat suit and sneakers he’d had in the car, he nodded. “I showered here and changed.” He rubbed his scratchy jaw. “But I don’t carry the stuff around to shave.”

“You have clothes in your trunk for emergencies? Or unplanned… luck?”

He raised his brows lasciviously. “Just in case I don’t make it home at night.”

“I’ll bet.” Lazing back into the pillows, she scanned her surroundings. “Wait a sec.” She sniffed. “It smells good in here.”

It hadn’t. He’d spent an hour and a half while she slept earlier making it sweet again. “I cleaned up while you were zonking out. People aren’t too tidy when they’re sick.”

“I can imagine the shape the place was in.” Her expression drew him in. “How can I ever thank you for all this?”

He winked at her. “I’ll think of something, darlin’.”

She didn’t flirt back. Instead, she grabbed his hand and frowned. “We were supposed to have contact on a strictly professional basis.”

He squeezed her hand. “I’m beginning to wonder if that’s even possible, Rachel. I was worried when you weren’t on your show.”

She sighed heavily.

“Let’s forget about all that now.”

“Okay.” She gestured to the television. “What’s happened on my show? I haven’t even asked.”

“Laura Littman took over.”

“I vaguely remember that. I like her. She’s going places.”

“Your friend Raskin filled in the first night. I thought he was a jerk and turned the set off.”

“No, not a jerk. He’s a complicated man. He’s got his eye on high places in the company, and I get the feeling he’d step on anybody to get there.”

“Even you?”

“Especially me.”

“Why? Did you scorn him?”

Pretty auburn brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Did you date him, then break his heart?”

She laughed. “Hardly. He’s not my type.”

Dylan wanted to ask if he was the kind of guy she preferred, but it was too heavy a discussion to have now. Maybe one they should never have. But since he’d found her ill and alone in her apartment, and had been sitting by her side for thirty-six hours, he’d been wondering where they’d go from here. And if he even wanted to go anywhere.

He thought about what Bailey had said when they’d called her old boyfriend.
I think it’s time for some honesty, Dyl, with yourself. About how deep your feelings are for her.

Rachel distracted him by speaking. “Dylan, why did you do this?”

“Do what?”

“Break into my house, for which I’m grateful. Whisk me away to the hospital and not leave my side, except to pick up stuff for me?”

Time for hedging. “I’d already taken the week off to be with you.” He gave her a smile. “I had the time.”

“It’s got to be more than that. Taking care of me like this was…intimate.”

“Have you forgotten we slept together? We got very intimate then.”

Once again, as in the hospital, she closed her eyes, and a sensual smile spread across her face. “Yes, I remember.”

Just that action made him go hard. He shifted in his seat, his jeans tight now. Picking up a magazine he’d left on her night table, he put it over his lap.

Her expression was neutral when she opened her eyes. “Becca’s coming home in a few hours. I called her because I knew they’d all be at the airport and wouldn’t change their plans for me.”

“That’s good, I guess.”

“For you. She can do whatever I need, and you can be a free man.”

His scowl was only half-faked. “Tryin’ to get rid of me?” She held out her hand and he took it. At least her skin wasn’t burning hot anymore. “No, I’m not. I feel bad you had to go through this with somebody you hardly know.”