Private Property: a Contemporary Romance Novella (3 page)

She limped past him, sheer force of will keeping her on her feet.  Blinding pain should have brought her to her knees, but seeing the brief stunned look on his face was enough to allow her the portrayal of courage she didn’t actually possess.  She purposefully brushed past him then abruptly stopped.

She heard him begin to walk towards her.  “Would you like me to show you the way?”  He barely restrained from mocking her outright, but she could see the laughter in his damnable green eyes.  Humility aside, it didn’t seem as though he was laughing
at
her, merely finding the humor in the situation.

Tabitha couldn’t resist reacting to it, either.  Maybe it was the ironic hilarity of the entire evening, the pain pills, or maybe it was the only alternative to breaking down and wallowing in self-pity.  She burst out with a bark of laughter that rang off the walls of the short hall Jared guided her down.  He followed suit and chuckled a bit, shaking his head subtly in disbelief at her antics.

He’d slipped his hand to the small of her back, bracing her jerky movements.  She could feel the heat of his hand seeping through the blanket she’d wrapped herself in and instead of shying away from the man’s touch, Tabitha felt calmed by it.

He led her into a room on the right and eased her down on what had to have been the most comfortable bed she’d ever touched.

It was a queen-sized bed with a simple sled-style frame that showed evidence of once being a dark wood
that
time and use had scarred and faded.  There were several different sized pillows plumped up along the in-ornate headboard and a white eyelet coverlet turned down.

“Don’t move.  I’ll get you some clothes.”

Tabitha grabbed his arm to stop his retreat.  “I’m okay in what I’ve got on.”

Without warning, his hand shot out and slipped the blanket off one shoulder, sliding his hand down to the top of her bra cup.  His fingers softly caressed the thin material, his knuckles rubbing across the top swell of her breast.

All mental processes stopped for Tabitha; she couldn’t breathe.  She just stared wide-eyed at him, watching a harshness creep over his face that gave his stern features an almost cruel look.

“What you have on is still wet.  I’ll get the clothes.”  The removal of his hand left a tingling, icy sensation behind as chills replaced his warmth.  Tabitha sat in a stunned silence trying to regain control over her body’s automatic reaction to the man.  She told herself that he was doing no more than seeing to a patient.

He came back and handed her the clothes.  “I’ve got some things to do before I go to sleep.  If you need anything, just give a shout.”

He left the door open and a candle flickering on
the
bureau next to it.  It cast a golden glow that mingled with the silver blue light from the
almost
constant lightning
flashing
through the windows standing sentry on either side of the bed.

The pain pills were running full force through her system and Tabitha’s eyelids grew heavy, burning every time she blinked.  It became harder and harder for her t
o fight her growing fatigue, even though
she desperately felt the need to stay awake.

A warm hand shaking her brought her up with a snort.  “Tabitha,
it’s
Jared.  Wake up.  You’re having a nightmare.”

Tabitha immediately pulled herself into a sitting position, but the heavy protests from her injuries sent white hot flashes into her brain.  She moaned and collapsed forward, her forehead coming to rest on Jared’s bare chest.  His hand came up and began to massage the back of her neck.  A sound escaped her throat, the haze of sleep trying to coax her under once again.

“You need to slow your movements down.”  Jared stated in a husky whisper that seduced her further into relaxation.  “You keep acting as though your body isn’t completely worked over.  You have been injured in more ways than just the cuts on your flesh.”  His large hand kept kneading her neck and shoulders, pressing her face into his muscular chest.  He smelled of clean soap and crisp aftershave.  He smelled good.  He felt good.  Or, at least the heat of his skin did; the coldness of his body language kept Tabitha from sinking into an unhealthy fantasy.

She didn’t know how long she’d dozed, but when she cracked open her
eyelids
,
she was facing a lighter colored sky and all the telltale signs of a new day.  It was still overcast and raining in sheets, but the lightning and thunder had long since dissipated.  Her body felt as though she’d stepped out of a fast moving car, so even though the sun was coming up, Tabitha
knew she
would not be.

She shoved her hand under her pillow and rolled onto her less painful side.  She buried her face into the soft material of the pillowcase thankful her body heat had been absorbed into the bed around her.

She was drifting back off to sleep when a loud snort at her back grabbed her attention.  It was a snore, a loud snuffling kind of sound that made her think of her grandfather.  She turned her head and came face to face with the wrinkled mug of that large black beast.

She sucked in her breath, afraid to make a sound.  The dog had so many wrinkles of skin around its snout that it couldn’t breathe correctly when it slept, thus creating the resonating snores.

Not knowing what else to do lest she get attacked again, she turned back into her original position and snuggled deeper into the pillow, praying the thing would have to get up and pee or something relatively soon.

“Well, good morning to you, too.”  The sleep-ridden deep voice caused her head to snap up once more.  This time she was looking at a sexy, groggy version of her host
and
doctor.  It didn’t take her long to figure out that the comfortable pillow she had
wrapped her arm
around was nothing more than his thigh and she’d just crammed her nose into his crotch.  No wonder he’d woken.

He was propped up against the footboard, clad only in a pair shorts, the dog and her draped across his legs.  “No more bad dreams, I presume?”

She looked about, realizing that she must’ve turned herself around in her sleep. 
Tabitha shook her head. Hell, she barely remembered the one that had brought him into her room to begin with.  It wasn’t uncommon, though – she often had dreams of running terrified from something.  At least it was easy to overlook her many little embarrassments in his presence; he never gave an effort to call attention to them.

He began to move, but she resisted with all her strength.  When he glared at her, she sputtered in response.  “Your…that thing is laying right beside me.”  She hissed.

His characteristic expression, devoid of
almost
all emotion, made a brief change as his eyebrows first shot up then came down into a thick ridge over the bridge of his dramatic, distinct nose.  “That
thing
,” he ground out with disgust, “is my dog.  The dog I had to put six stitches in last night.”  He slid out from under her, causing her to flop down face first into the covers.

When she pushed herself up out of the wrinkled pile, he was kneeling alongside the now very alert dog, examining his face.  She could see the thick black threads poking out like insect legs around Sam’s
eye.  Jared
nuzzled the animal a bit and patted his head before turning back to her.

“I do know that in comparison, you definitely lost the skirmish,” his tone was somewhat softer, his words not as clipped.  “He won’t harm you now.  He quite likes people.”

Tabitha wasn’t about to risk another bite.  He waited while she remained impassive until his patience obviously wore out.  “Very well, then.  We should probably get moving if you want to get
home
.”  He emphasized the last word purposefully to let her know he did not think she should continue on to Austin.

“I washed and dried your
clothes
,
they’re in the bathroom for you.  I’m sure you’ll need to clean up but no bath or shower.  The bathroom is at the end of the hall.”  He got up, patted his thigh and disappeared.  At Jared’s signal, the dog leapt from the bed and trotted out after him.

Tabitha slowly made her way from the bed and limped into the bathroom.  Doing morning ablutions by way of washcloth and
soapy
water was no comparison
for a steamy, massaging shower
but doctor’s orders kept her from
drenching
herself.  Re-dressing was a trial that had her sliding all over the toilet she was precariously perched on.  But several minutes later and
a sweaty upper lip
and she
was
ready to attempt facing the world again.

Tabitha stared hard a
t her reflection in the mirror
and refused to harp on any of last night’s disasters.  So she had lost the job that was going to save her bank account, so her only form of transportation was probably now floating down the highway, so her life had been flushed away again before she’d even recovered from the last time.  She was still functioning, albeit poorly, and there’d be another chance.  There had to be.

She flung open the door with a renewed vigor and almost fell over an old chair that had been planted directly in the walkway.  Jared stepped out from his bedroom.  “I thought it best to use this to keep you off that leg.”

What she wanted to say was: “then why did you leave it here for me to trip over?”  But she managed
a
simple
“thank yo
u
”
instead.
  It looked like an antique dining chair with large wooden wheels on either side of it.  She seated herself and looked expectantly at her host.

Jared easily maneuvered the chair through the hallway and pushed it up to a small dining table off the kitchen.  He rummaged in the kitchen a bit and then set two plates of food down before taking a seat across from her.  He’d apparently been busy while she was in the bathroom.

There was more food on the plate than she’d thought possible for it to hold.  There were scrambled eggs, hash
brown potatoes, tomatoes
slices
, cinnamon apples, sausage patties, grits and toast.  It seemed there was a little bit of everything.  She looked at him in surprise, not knowing where to begin.

He had an impish smile that revealed a crescent on his left cheek.  It was the first time she’d seen anything other than a scowl adorning his features.  “I wasn’t sure what foods you like or how much you would eat.  Don’t
worry;
I won’t force you to clean your plate.  Just eat enough so you can take some more medication.  I gave you an antibiotic shot last night, but you will need to start a full cycle today to cut down on the inflammation and the chances of infection.”  He shoveled a bite of food into his mouth, but Tabitha noticed that although he ate like a typical rugged man, he didn’t do so indelicately.  He never once chewed with his mouth open or attempted to speak while it was still full.

Jared
told her that the chair she sat in had once carted around his great-grandmother after a stroke had taken the use of her left side.  He told how the house had
been in his family since 1811 –
that’s when his family had migrated from up North
to the small town of Giddings –
and that he and his only sibling, a sister, shared ownership of it now that his parents had relocated to Florida.

It served as a getaway retreat for him wh
enever he had time off.  And Tabitha
needed to thank her lucky stars
that he’d been here last night.

Tabitha found that she was more thankful he wasn’t asking her a bunch of questions.  She didn’t know why, but hearing hi
m speak of normalcy calmed her,
made her feel as though it was an attainable substance that she might hope to have one day.

When she had done as much damage as she could to the pile of food before her, she shoved her plate away and washed down the pills that he had given her with a glass of milk.  It had grown silent between them, only because he had ceased his monologue and now she felt uncomfortable, needing to continue what he had begun.

“What kind of surgeon are you?”  She ventured.

“Hopefully the good kind.”  He responded, supposedly in jest, but his voice did not portray it.  He cleared the table and began washing dishes at a sink to her left.  “I’m what you would call a bone specialist, actually
, an orthopedic surgeon
.  I do surgeries as well as have a regular patient load.”

“You don’t look old enough to have a full medical practice.”  It was just an observation, but he really didn’t look as old as his career would suggest.

He chuckled briefly and sat down again in front of her, his large hands wrapped around a coffee mug.  “I graduated high school at
sixteen, which
put me two years ahead of the game.  But, I’m 46 years old.  I’ve had time to build what is mine.”  He stared down at his cup.  “Sometimes I think that’s all I’ve had.”

Such a strange remark coming from this restrained man.  Tabitha felt her heartstrings pulled by his statement and her own sorrow began to seep back into her bloodstream.