Chapter 23
From her half-sitting position in the hospital bed, Olivia rubbed her scratchy eyes, gazing at the clock and adding up the time since her last dose of pain meds. Seven thirty in the morning, and she still had an hour and a half before she could get a boost. Not ready to admit the pain was a lot worse than she expected, she was hoping to get by exclusively on oral meds today, rather than resort to injections or IV. But at this rate, she’d be begging for a shot of morphine before the hour was up.
At least she felt a little more human, having brushed her teeth and combed her hair, with her mother’s help. Her mom had gone home for a bit, planning to come back in the afternoon with a charger for Olivia’s phone. Waking up to a dead cell phone early this morning, Olivia had her mother raking all through her purse and suitcase in a fruitless search for a wall charger. Consequently, Olivia had no idea if Fitz had sent even more threatening text messages or if he had left a nasty voicemail or two. She needed to remain sharp, in case he barged into her room, yet another reason she had to forgo narcotic pain meds, regardless of how badly she hurt.
A knock sounded on the door. Her breath caught in her throat. Could that be Fitz here to chew her out for whatever heinous crime he seemed convinced she’d committed? Perhaps it would be best to face him now, without risking her family’s involvement. Surely he wouldn’t be so agitated when confronting her in a hospital room. She felt certain she could straighten everything out if he would listen to reason.
“Come in,” Olivia called, wincing at the stomach-tightening effort of making her voice loud.
The person who entered the room had white hair and beard and wore a red velvet suit with white trim, a red sack thrown over his shoulder. A Real Santa! In his hand, he clutched a vase of flowers. “Ho, ho, ho. I’m delivering presents for Mercy General this morning, and I’ve got a special gift just for you.” He spoke in a high voice, almost effeminate, with a foreign-sounding accent, but Olivia’s heart beat like a hummingbird. Is this Collin?
“Who are you?” With her stomach in her throat, she could hardly get the words out.
He gazed at her, bushy white brows hovering over twinkling blue eyes. “I’m Santa Claus, of course.” Moving closer, he held the flowers in front of his large belly. “Most of my deliveries are on the children’s wing, but today I have two deliveries for this floor. These flowers are for you. Where would you like me to put them?”
Her mind moved slowly, like it was full of quicksand. Surely Collin, who had yelled and hung up on her less than two days ago, wouldn’t go to this much trouble to speak to her. But if it were Collin, would the disguise keep him safe from Fitz? She pointed a quivering finger at the bedside table. He placed the vase on the table, turning it so that the card was facing her. She reached for it, grimacing and pulling her hand back when her stitches stretched.
Even with the mask, she could see his eyebrows pull down. “You shouldn’t try to move. Shall I read the card for you?”
His voice had dipped downward for a second, almost to Collin’s timbre, but then it rose to the higher pitch. It could be Collin, but she wasn’t certain. “Yes, please.”
Dropping his sack to the floor, he removed the card from the holder and opened it, clearing his throat. “It says, ‘To the most beautiful of flowers, lovely inside and out.’” He glanced up, the rosy cheeks of his mask rounding under his eyes. “There’s no signature. Seems you have a secret admirer.”
He handed her the card, his black-gloved hand brushing against hers, goosebumps rippling up her arm. A breathy thanks was all she could muster.
“I’ve been up all night, and I’m totally exhausted. You don’t mind if I sit for moment, do you?” Santa slid into the chair at her bedside before she could respond one way or the other. “Why are you in the hospital?”
Olivia frowned. It could be Collin, inquiring to cover his real identity, or a Real Santa who happened to be quite nosy. Either way, she didn’t feel inclined to answer.
“I’d rather not say,” she snapped. “It’s rather personal.”
“Oh, sorry.” She could almost see him blushing under the mask. “I hope you’re not in a great deal of pain.”
She softened a bit in light of his earnest wish. “Nothing I can’t handle,” she assured him. “Don’t you think you should be off to finish your deliveries?”
“I suppose you’re right.” The tone of his voice was a little lower, and the foreign accent seemed faint.
He gathered his red rucksack from the floor, as if making ready to depart. It must not be Collin, or he would’ve been more persistent. He wouldn’t go to all the trouble to dress up and sneak into her room to deliver a bouquet of anonymous flowers and not make an effort to clear the air. Unless... Unless he was only motivated by guilt, after discovering Olivia had donated her own kidney to his surrogate mother. Disappointment stabbed her in the chest, bringing unbidden tears to her eyes.
“You’re crying. Are you all right? Are you hurting? What do you need?”
This time, the voice was Collin’s, deep and stirring, unmistakable. His contact-covered eyes were filled with self-reproach. Just as she feared, guilt was his only motivation. His remorseful display only brought more tears.
“Nothing, Collin.” She saw his spine go rigid. “You don’t owe me anything. That’s not why I gave Martha my kidney.”
“But I do owe you something, Olivia. I owe you an apology. I made assumptions about you, and I was wrong. I was blinded by my emotions. Angry. Jealous. Heartbroken.”
“If you want absolution, you’ve got it.” She flipped her hand in dismissal. “I never blamed you for being upset. I did what I had to do. Anyone would’ve interpreted it the way you did.”
“You should’ve told me,” he accused. “You should’ve trusted me.”
“I did trust you, Collin. I trusted you would do what you always do—defend me. That would’ve gotten you in big trouble.” She suddenly remembered Fitz might show up at any time. “In fact, you’re still in danger. You should go, right now.”
“I’ll go...” The brush of his leather-clad fingers along her jaw contracted her lungs until they flattened. “If that’s what you really want.”
She gasped for air. “Yes. You have to go.”
Collin reached for the bottom of his mask. “You’ll have to say that to my face.”
“No! Leave it on!”
He paused, a ghastly apparition with his bearded face peeled halfway off. “Why? Do you have a thing for old geezers with white hair?”
Three raps on the door almost flatlined her heart. “Please, Collin, pull it back on. It could be Fitz.”
“Fitz?” Collin ripped off the mask, flinging it to the floor, and rotated to face the door, his hands on his hips and his teeth bared like a rabid dog.
“Good morning,” said a petite girl with a wide, toothy smile and bobbing curls on her head. “I’m here to get you up and walk—” Her words choked off as her eyes fell on Collin’s fierce face. As her smile dissolved, she edged back toward the door, mumbling, “No worries. I’ll come back later. Plenty of time...”
As the door clicked shut, Collin aimed his glare at Olivia, but she responded with daggers.
“You stubborn idiot! Look at yourself in the mirror—that’s exactly why I didn’t tell you about Fitz. I knew the minute you found out, you would go all Cro Magnon on me, yelling like Tarzan and beating on your hairy chest until you provoked some kind of fight to the death.”
“Tarzan wasn’t Cro Magnon.” His lips twitched like he might be quelling a smile.
“It’s not funny. I know you want to be the big protective he-man, but you need to leave Fitz alone until I get this all straightened out. I started this whole mess, so it’s my responsibility to finish it.”
Collin’s knotted brows careened to the top of his forehead, like they were attached to rubber bands. “You started it?”
“I promise it was an accident. I met him on Finding Your Forever. I had no idea he taught at Columbia.”
Collin paced, his costumed body rotund from the neck, with his handsome head perched on top, a frustrated glower on his face. “This thing between me and Professor Burkhalter isn’t your fault, Olivia. And I took care of him Friday morning, once and for all.”
“I don’t know what you think you did to take care of him, but it’s not over. Friday is when he threatened me.”
Icy blue slits replaced Collin’s eyes as the muscles in his jaw worked overtime. In fact, every muscle on his body seemed to be flexing. Why did I tell him Fitz was threatening me? I knew this is what would happen.
“What did he say to you?” His mouth was so tight his lips barely moved.
“Nothing. Really. It was no big deal. I was already getting drowsy when I saw the texts, so I probably didn’t even read them right.”
His gaze locked onto her phone, like a radar-guided missile. In two strides he had the phone in his hand, holding it out under her nose. “Show me.”
“I can’t. It’s dead.” She snatched the phone from his hand before he could sling it against the wall in frustration. “Mom’s getting my charger.”
“You didn’t answer my phone calls or texts, but you read his?” Though he sounded angry, she read the hurt on his face.
“I didn’t know you tried to reach me. When was it?”
“Thursday night. All night. I called. I texted. I even went to your apartment, but evidently, you moved.”
“Really?” Her heart sang, but his answering scowl made her force her lips down at the corners. “I mean, I’m sorry about that. Somehow my phone got on airplane mode.”
“Olivia, it’s my job to protect you. Can’t you understand? I was frantic when I couldn’t reach you.”
“Now look here...” Annoyed, she tried to sit up, once again forgetting her surgery. “Owwww!”
His face went ashen, and he lifted her hand, cradling it between his. “What can I do?”
She let the air flow out between her lips. “Nothing. I just need to be more careful. But it’s as much my job to protect you as it is yours to protect me. Just because you’re the man doesn’t mean you get to be the protector.”
Something about her statement made him grin.
“Why are you laughing?” she demanded.
“I’m not laughing,” he corrected, pressing his lips to the back of her hand in a gesture so tender she wanted to capture it in her mind. “I’m just happy you think we should protect each other.”
“Oh.” As the import of her words began to sink in, she felt flushed to the roots of her hair. “I wasn’t implying anything.”
“No implications necessary. Your statement was clear as a bell. I’ll protect you, and you protect me.” He bent low, brushing his lips on her cheek, his touch speaking tender, voiceless words that muddled her mind. What were we talking about? Protection.
“You’re distracting me from my protective duties.” Instead of the bold, Vikingish, claim she meant to make, it came out plaintive and breathless. She continued, a little louder. “You don’t understand how dangerous Fitz is. He’s going to get you kicked out of Columbia. He’s going to file suit against you—against both of us.”
“File suit against you and me? For what? For falling in love with each other?”
“He said something about recording without consent or...” Her stomach did a back handspring. “Did you say, ‘falling in love?’”
“I did.” His mouth stretched into a lazy smile, his sexy lips promising the kiss she longed for. He bent down, moving closer, his padded belly pushing against the bed. His mouth was only a minty-fresh breath away, as sparkling blue eyes searched hers.
“Wait.” Her hand rose up, a barrier between their mouths.
“What?” He halted against his roadblock, anxiety creasing his forehead.
“I want to see your eyes. Your real eyes, not Santa’s.”
In seconds, his fingers plucked the blue contacts away. Fathomless green eyes gazed into her soul and, after an eternity, seemed satisfied with what they saw. His lips curved into a smile before he pressed them against the corner of her mouth. Gentle lips caressing their way across hers. Teasing pecks, dancing and pulling back, withholding the caressing contact she longed for. Her breaths came faster, until she felt dizzy. She whimpered in frustration. With a soft chuckle, his talented mouth returned, deepening the kiss until she felt her will melting away. Soon she was a boneless puddle of molten pleasure. She knew nothing but the touch of his lips.
Trailing away from her mouth, he nibbled along her jawline, dipping into the soft depression on her neck where her blood pulsed madly. Stars burst on the inside of her eyelids, and she gasped for air. And then his warm lips deserted her, leaving her cold and bereft without their benefit.
He perched on the chair beside the bed, his gaze never leaving hers, as if he were afraid she might escape. After a minute, she finally caught her breath and slowed her thumping heart to near normal levels.
“That was interesting.” She twisted a strand of her hair with her fingers, her newest nervous habit, but one she preferred to biting her nails.
“Interesting in a good way? Or a bad way?”
One look at his smug expression said he already knew the answer. But she didn’t have to admit it. At least, not right away.
“I suppose it was pretty okay.”
“Okay?” Obviously, this was not an acceptable answer. But she managed to keep a straight face.
“I’ve only had two or three that might’ve been better than that one.”
“Two or three?”
“Why do you keep repeating everything I say? Am I mumbling?”
“Who was better? Was one of them Fitz? You have to tell me the truth.”
Laughter bubbled from her mouth despite her efforts to trap it inside. “No, you poor, egotistical boy. All three were you. Technically, one of the three was Santa Claus.”
His inverted eyebrows righted themselves as a smile emerged. “I would agree. All three of those kisses were extraordinary.”
Her elation was fleeting. Relationships couldn’t be built on a mutual enjoyment of kissing. He’d mentioned falling in love, but people threw that word about so often it had become almost meaningless. What was love to a man like Collin, who grew up with every conceivable possession he ever desired, yet never experienced a stable home?
“This makes me pretty nervous.” Again, she grasped a lock of hair, twisting madly. He captured the rotating hand and lifted it to his mouth, pressing a masterful kiss, which radiated tingly warmth throughout her body.
“I love you, Olivia Marshall. You’re the one I want to hold and protect. You’re the one I want to wake up with every day for the rest of my life. My heart is in your hands, whether you want it or not, so please treat it gently.”
Tears swam in her eyes and tumbled down her face. His hand cupped her cheek, his thumb brushing at a wet track. “I made you cry,” he lamented.
“It’s okay.” She rubbed her face with her arm, grateful at least she didn’t have on mascara to give her raccoon eyes.
“I can do better,” he insisted. “How about this? Only for you would I transform myself into a jolly, sweaty, fat man with white hair and a flowing beard.”
Olivia chuckled, blinking her tears away. “And only for you would I kiss an aging, tubby man in a tacky red-velvet suit.”
He smiled, but deep in his eyes was a longing. She knew what he wanted to hear, but she couldn’t say it, unless it was true. Do I love him?
“Collin, I’ve dated other guys and thought I was in love, but it wasn’t real. Not the deep kind of love—the kind that lasts forever. This feels different to me, but I’m not sure.”
“It’s okay, Olivia. You don’t have to say it.” He looked out the window, on the floor, at the clock, anywhere but into her eyes.
“Here’s what I do know. I know when Fitz told me he wanted to hurt you I was madder than a hornet, and I was willing to do whatever it took to stop him. And I know if he were to walk in here right now and threaten you, I would tear him apart with my bare hands, even if I died in the process. Do you think that’s love?”
Her heart fell when he laughed at her. “No, Olivia, that’s not love.” He stood up and bent over the bed, with his hands on the pillow on either side of her head, and leaned down until their foreheads touched. “That’s not plain old ordinary love. That’s amazing, extraordinary, Olivia-Marshall-love. And it’s all for me, and no one else, right?”
His lips were so close, she could almost taste them. “All for you,” she whispered. “For you…and Santa Claus.”