Indivisible Line (18 page)

Turning the shower valve all the way to cold, he walked under the spray. He wanted the icy blast to wash away the fevered thoughts he was experiencing, as well as his body’s reaction to his encounter with Sarah.

Making a mental note to try harder to keep his hands off her next time, Greg finished his shower. He promised himself he would stick to his resolve and resist her charms. It was a good start, just as long as his body would take heed and listen.

He was sitting in bed and halfway through one of Warren Buffett’s books when his phone rang. He put the volume down and checked his caller ID.

“What’s new, Trevor?”

“Mr. Andrews, we hit a little snag.” Trevor cut to the chase.
 

Greg liked the man. There was no beating around the bush with the guy—he’d call things what they were.

“What kind of snag?” Greg leaned forward and rested his elbows on his thighs.

“It’s Mr. McPherson. We’ve been trailing him for several days to ascertain his permanent residence. He is now living in Los Angeles.” Trevor coughed and continued with noticeable reluctance. “We found him meeting with Mrs. Andrews in a restaurant today.”

Greg rolled his eyes. “Trevor, tell me something I don’t know. We’ve been expecting this. It was just a matter of time before we caught those two together. So give me his address.” Greg reached in his nightstand drawer for a Mont Blanc pen and was poised to write.

“Mr. Andrews . . . it’s not your wife we found dining with Cade McPherson. It was your mother. She met wi—”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Greg’s voice rose, and for once he didn’t give a damn. He made no effort to mask his anger.

“It was your mother we saw with Mr. McPherson two nights ago, and we have pictures to prove it.” Trevor’s tone seemed apologetic, and Greg heard no more. He hurled the telephone across the room and watched it slam against the wall, snapping into several pieces before it hit the floor.

Chapter 12

The next day, Sarah left for the library as soon as Greg’s footsteps crossed the hall to his study. After their encounter the evening before, she wasn’t too crazy about seeing him. She left a note with Matilda, to be given to Greg whenever he emerged. Pulling her jacket close to her body, she braved the biting morning breeze and set out on the ten-minute walk to the library.

Her mind couldn’t wrap itself around the idea of kissing Greg. She still couldn’t understand what had possessed her to instigate it and to allow him to repeat it over and over. Well . . . she knew why—she had wanted it more than she dared admit. Her shock was caused by her willingness to let things happen rather than the act itself.

Sarah wasn’t an expert in relationships or anything to do with male-female interaction. Even to her amateur eyes, she could see that what they had shared last night had been special. Greg was special.
 

The more she thought about it, the more she hated the way her body responded to Greg. She was afraid that her self-control was no defense against Greg’s charm and presence. Although she wasn’t a prude by any means, he was still a married man. That alone should send her packing, not acting like a crazed nymphomaniac. Nothing about Greg guaranteed she would come out unscathed after everything had been said and done. How many times would it take her to repeat these warnings in her head before she listened?

After gathering the materials she needed for the day, Sarah set out to try to study. She scattered books across the library table, intending to spend more time studying and less thinking about Greg.

With her concentration veering toward Gregory Andrews III several times, she still managed to cram in the necessary studying. Med school hadn’t been easy, and Columbia was proving itself to be tough enough to keep her on her toes. It was a good thing that she was up to the task, and she intended to graduate with good grades on time, if not earlier.

Glancing around the quiet library, she noticed a few early patrons like her. Young and old, these people were intent on getting as much done as possible in the morning and beating the influx in the later hours.
 

The silent ticking of the clock at the far end of the room provided a steady cadence, which kept her going. She had six hours before her first class for the evening. If she read fast enough and got her work completed, she might have the chance to walk around and check for job openings.

Sarah wondered how long her arrangement with Greg would last. He couldn’t have any intention of babysitting her for the duration of the school year. Why would he even care to waste time on her, anyway? New York City, although a small land mass compared to bigger cities like Los Angeles and Chicago, packed a punch as far as population. It should have something to offer her, despite her lack of professional experience.

Greg had mentioned he wanted her around because of the pathology testing to come. He wanted to find out where her inexperienced work had led them and which of the side-effects he’d been plagued with had stemmed from her improvised blood transfusion. Still, he seemed healthier each passing day. Although his spasms hadn’t improved, the sutures were healing well. An overwhelming possibility struck her. Her stay in the Andrews household might no longer be welcomed by the end of the semester.

Sarah’s nerves did a number on her at the thought of leaving everything she’d grown to appreciate in such a short time. It would be harder than she cared to consider. Greg . . . would she even dare to imagine beyond the kiss?

If she had to leave, where would she go?
Stay
, the little voice told her. After transferring from UCLA to Columbia, she had no reason to move back to Los Angeles. She’d have to come up with a means to earn a living—anything to sustain her until she finished school. She could take out the necessary student loans and hope scholarships were still available this far into the semester in her field of study.

In more ways than one, she was alone. Even if she had three people who cared for her here, everything she had was temporary. If her father continued to want nothing to do with her, she’d have to carve out a name for herself, one way or another. But of course, things were almost always easier said than done.
 

A nagging doubt strangled her. She couldn’t leave until she knew for sure that Greg wouldn’t do anything stupid in connection with that phone conversation she’d overheard. A big part of her refused to let him make that mistake.

Shaking away the sudden wave of paranoia, Sarah willed her mind to concentrate on the work lying before her, and she finished studying the material she’d intended to cover for the day. After the end of her study period, she returned the books to their proper shelves and set out to take the longer path back to the penthouse, hoping to snag a few employment applications along the way.

The day dragged on for Greg. After his conversation with Trevor the night before that had ended in the premature demise of his cell phone, he’d decided to purchase a new one from a store a few blocks down. He persuaded Simon to leave him alone and took the trek down Fifth Avenue with slow but steady steps.

He needed the time alone to think. The shock of Trevor’s revelation left him in a tumult of emotions he found difficult to process. Finding out his mother had connections with Cade made his chest ache. The extent of their association was yet to be determined. Regardless, the small faith he’d still had in his mother had been crushed into nonexistence. Greg had always suspected that he was irrelevant in his parents’ lives, but this latest betrayal took the hurt to a whole new level.

God, was the pain ever going to go away? Was he destined to be alone for the rest of his life? What made it so impossible for people to love him? His parents acted as though he didn’t exist except when it was time to count their fortunes in the bank. Cassandra’s affair made him think he’d failed at marriage, too. It was ridiculous, but he kept asking himself what had made her unhappy. What made the people around him hate the idea of his existence? It had to be his fault somehow. These people found his very presence loathsome and wanted nothing to do with him. To top it all off, Cade—his best friend—had tried to kill him.

Greg reached the store in a few minutes. For the next half hour, the enthusiasm of the sales representative ambushed his attention with the latest technology, and he came out of the store with both a new, state-of-the-art Android and a cell phone for Sarah.

Indeed, he was a sucker for her. Despite the tragedy that surrounded him, his mind kept going back to her. Sarah was his respite. She relieved his tired mind and aching heart. The passion of their kisses had sent jolts of tingling sensation from his spine down to his toes. For crying out loud, he’d not just acted like a delirious juvenile with her, but he’d done it in front of Simon, too. He couldn’t help himself. Sarah had a way of making him forget his problems.

This much was true—being with her now would create heartache in the future. Greg shook his head, hating the very thought of giving her up. He had taken her under his wing with every intention of shielding her from the troubles he’d already caused for her. Instead of taking a burden from her, he had just confused her even more. It killed him to see the doubt in her eyes.

What had started as an audacious plan had now backfired. Greg kept telling himself he was just going to help her get over her own hurdles, and then he would let her go—it would be easy. But as the days went by, he became more and more uncertain that he could go on without her. It went without saying that he’d be damned before he would intentionally hurt her.

The kisses they had shared just made him want her more. He knew he had nothing more to offer her, but from this day forward, he’d have to make an effort to keep his hands to himself, even if it killed him.

Pulling out his new high-tech toy, he stopped short before crossing the intersection and dialed Trevor’s number. Looking around himself while the phone rang, he caught a sight of that beautiful, long, black hair across the street. Greg had no idea how he could spot Sarah with such ease, but one thing was certain—he was drawn to her like a magnet.

He paid attention to her every move with keen interest, noting the way she examined her surroundings like a doe-eyed child, her fierce grasp on her books, and her curious glances at the flashing billboards overhead. She was going to cross the street in his direction, and he’d wait for her.

Moreover, he had a gift for her. In a way, it would be a peace offering for his stubborn refusal to stop kissing her. His outgoing call went straight to voice mail, and he left a hurried message. He punched the off button, slid the phone in his pocket, and walked forward to the curb to wait.

Greg waved at Sarah, hoping she’d see him right away, but it took several attempts before he could catch her attention. Her face was puzzled at first but then broke into a grin, and she waved back.

The pedestrian crosswalk sign flashed, and she was the first one to step off the curb. Greg heard the blaring warning of a taxicab running a red light and the screeching of the tires before his eyes witnessed the inevitable contact between the bumper and Sarah’s body in grim slow motion. The nightmarish collision threw Sarah a few feet away like she was a ragdoll. Her body landed in a tangle of limbs with a loud thud on the cold pavement, followed by the sounds of shrieking brakes and loud screams.

Ignoring the pain in his legs, Greg bolted from his spot and ran across the street just as people started gathering around Sarah’s body.

“Someone call 911!” a woman yelled.

He had no predetermined plan of action, but anger surged within his chest. He lunged at the driver just as he emerged from the cab. Greg had one thought in mind—
Make him pay!

He threw a punch that landed straight on the man’s nose. “I will kill you, bastard!” Greg yelled. Rage flowed through his veins like adrenaline, and he managed to land more punches on the horrified driver before several people pried him away. Cameras began to flash from every direction while the wails of sirens sounded in the distance.

“You’re fucking crazy!” The cabbie spat blood on the ground.

Greg fought against the arms that restrained him. “I will kill you.” He fought against the furious tears that rushed to his eyes. “If she doesn’t make it out of this, I will kill you,” he screamed once more at the stunned man before turning his attention to the group that had converged around Sarah. Like a madman, he shook off the restricting hands and squeezed his way through the maze of bodies, elbowing people aside without caring whether he plowed anyone over. When he made it to the front of the shocked crowd, he fell to his knees at the sight of Sarah’s motionless body.