Chapter Two #3
“The Italian-sausage-mushroom-and-black-olive-with-anchovies-on-one-half pizza—the one I am going across the street to order
and sneak inside this room,” she explained in one giant breath.
His rueful smile became a soft chuckle. “Of course, I should have known—that pizza.”
Skye laughed and limped on one shoeless foot to the door to peek down the hallway.
“Now what are you doing?” he demanded in exasperation.
“Checking the entrance to the stairs. I can’t use the elevator since it opens directly in front of the nurses’ station, and
the only way I can avoid their eagle eyes is to take the stairs. That wasn’t a sleeping pill she gave you by any chance, was
it?”
“No, one of those blasted painkillers.” Anger reverberated in his husky voice.
Zipping up her boot, Skye smiled reassuringly. “I’ll be back before you know it.”
“I’ll be waiting.”
Skye returned in far less time than she expected. She opened the door to Jordan’s room and closed it quietly behind her after
she hurried inside, hoping to avoid attracting anyone’s attention. She was breathing hard from the exertion of running up
three flights of stairs.
“That didn’t take long.” Jordan’s head was drawn back, poised and alert.
“They weren’t very busy.” She set the square cardboard box on the vanity.
“Boy, that smells good,” he said, sighing, as she lifted the lid to the steaming pizza. “I think I’ll be able to manage on
my own if you give me the pieces in a napkin.”
“Okay, but if it’s awkward, I don’t mind feeding you,” she offered.
The silence between them was serene as they ate.
Skye smiled to herself a couple of times as she watched Jordan’s attempts to eat the pizza with his bandaged hand.
Actually he was doing very well, and it surprised her.
Perhaps she was making too much of this attraction.
What harm would result from a budding friendship? What did she have to fear?
“I hope you won’t find me unduly nosy,” Jordan said, his voice cutting into her thoughts, “but I was wondering if you always
carry your money in your shoe.”
“Do you think I have a foot fetish?” she questioned with a laugh, her tone matching the lightness of his. “Actually it’s a
precautionary measure against muggers.”
His thick brows arched.
“San Francisco is one of the most beautiful, romantic cities in the world, but that doesn’t make us exempt from crime. I carry
several single dollar bills in my wallet, and anything larger in my shoe. Brad, my older brother, worries about my living
alone and advised me always to carry money in my purse just in case I do get mugged. Then the robber won’t beat me in frustration
over an empty purse.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No, I’m not,” she said, defending herself. “A girl alone in a big city, even a city as beautiful as San Francisco, is forced
into a defensive stance. Crime is a fact of life, and after some of the stories my brother has told me, I’m ready to play
it safe.”
“Why do you do it then?” he mocked openly.
“Do what?” She glanced up from her pizza.
“Live alone. You’re an attractive, enticing blonde. Surely there’s some man standing on the sidelines just waiting for you
to say the word.”
His inquisitiveness quickly resurrected the barrier of humor she hid behind, and she responded with a hearty laugh. “You make
my life sound like a football game. I hate to disappoint your curious nature, but there is no one waiting for my punt return.”
Jordan raised a dubious brow, but smiled into her laughing eyes. “You think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?”
“Without a doubt.” She wrinkled her nose and fluttered her eyelashes wickedly. She was having a good time, and smiled, unable to remember when she’d enjoyed an evening more. Perhaps she was enjoying it too much.
“It’s after ten. I think I’d better go. I’m a working girl, you know, and there would be Hades to pay if I was found out now.”
She was referring to the nurses.
“I don’t want you to leave.” He studied her with a disturbing light in his eyes. “I don’t think there are many women in the
world who would spend an evening visiting a demanding, ill-tempered invalid.”
“There’s no need to thank me. I enjoyed it; it’s been fun.”
“I owe you for the pizza.” His expression became strangely brooding, as if it were a great insult to his pride to have her
pay for their meal.
“Oh, no, please, it was my treat. You’re the one out of work—”
“I can afford a pizza.” His mouth twisted with irritation.
“I’m sure you can.” She sighed, drawing a deep breath. If anything, her insistence was doing more harm than good. Please, her eyes implored, let’s not ruin our time by arguing over something so petty.
He flashed her a tender smile, his eyes holding hers magnetically. “You are very lovely.”
Her eyes widened in surprise and her heart thundered against her ribs as her mind searched for some witty retort, but it was
as if her senses had been struck numb. Self-consciously she lowered her head, the long, golden strands of hair falling forward,
wreathing her flushed face. Just a few seconds before they had been teasing and joking; now, disconcertingly, they were on
intimate terms.
“Don’t, Jordan, please,” Skye whispered shakily.
“Why not?” he asked quietly. “You’re a beautiful woman, inside and out.”
Skye drew a steadying breath and quirked her eyebrows suspiciously.
“I thought you broke your arm in the car accident. I didn’t realize you had also suffered brain damage.
Your tongue may be smooth, but you won’t have me believing out-and-out fantasy.
I am no raving beauty.” Her voice shook slightly.
“Besides being a virtual , did you happen to notice my schnozzle?” She placed her index finger on the tip of her nose, and crossed her eyes as if examining its extended length.
“Good night, Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are.” With a theatrical gesture typical of Jimmy Durante, Skye stepped across the room to where her coat rested on the chair.
A low, gravelly laugh shook Jordan’s shoulders. “Skye—” His laughing gray eyes suddenly became serious. “—come here,” he requested
softly.
“Not on your life,” she retorted.
His round eyes feigned innocence. “You don’t trust me?”
“No!” She finished buttoning her raincoat.
“I’m still hungry,” he insisted.
“Then ring for the nurse,” she suggested. “The hospital keeps a supply of snacks available.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of dessert.” He smiled. “I seem to have developed a sweet tooth lately.”
Skye’s heart lodged somewhere near her throat at the suggestiveness of his tone. “In which case I suggest you go on a diet,”
she countered smoothly, belying the uneven beat of her heart.
Jordan chuckled softly. “Good night, my frightened little bird.”
It was an accurate description. Her heart hammered fearfully against her ribs like a trapped, wild fledgling. Why she should
experience such alarm was a mystery. Jordan Kiley was just a man. Rugged and compelling, but nonetheless a man not unlike
a hundred others she had successfully parried in the past years.
“Good night, Jordan,” she whispered, quietly closing the door after her.
“Are you coming tomorrow?” he called brusquely.
His sharp question brought her back inside the room. His eyes were directed solely upon her, and she frowned, confused by
his barely concealed anger until she understood. His pride resented the necessity of asking her to return. She hovered uncertainly,
just long enough for his face to twist into a scowl.
Skye found herself incapable of meeting his gaze. “All right,” she said, nodding. “I’m working on the children’s ward until
about eight. I’ll stop in after that.”
Jordan nodded. “I’ll see you then.”