Deliver Me (30 page)

***

Every time Amanda
tried to open her eyes, a piercing pain shot from the back of her head. So she
decided to keep them close for as long as she could.

The insistent
beeping made the task impossible.

With agonizing
slowness, Amanda raised her eyelids from their resting position. The first
person she saw was Jeffrey.

“Let me get the
doctor,” he said, and was gone before Amanda could form a word.

Less than a minute
later, a young woman who looked as if she should still be in high school,
followed Jeffrey into the room. The green scrubs and white coat indicated she
was the doctor, but Amanda was skeptical. When did they start giving medical
degrees to teenagers?

“Well, we’re
certainly happy you’re awake,” the young doctor said. She raised Amanda’s
eyelids and shone a penlight into her eyes.

Amanda winced. “What
happened,” she managed to ask through the pain pounding in her head.

“You blacked out for
a little while. You have a severe case of anemia, Mrs. Daniels. My thoughts are
that you overextended yourself today, and your body was just unable to keep up.”

“Is the baby...okay.”
A tear formed in her eye and rolled down her cheek. If her baby was hurt...

“We have you on a
monitor as a precaution, but it looks as if the baby faired just fine. I can’t
say the same for you, however. I’m going to consult with Dr. Holmes, but I
believe you will be on more restrictive bed rest for the remainder of your
pregnancy.”

“He mentioned the
possibility earlier today.”

“You saw Dr. Holmes
today?” Jeffrey asked. Amanda had forgotten he was in the room. Her head began
to pound in earnest. She was not up for another argument. “You never told me
you had an appointment with the doctor today.”

“You had to work. I
needed answers to a few questions. It was nothing important.”

“But he said he was
putting you on restrictive bed rest, right?”

“He said it was a
possibility,” Amanda clarified.

“I think it just
went from a possibility to a certainty,” the doctor interjected. “We’ll keep
you overnight for observation and I’ll make sure Dr. Holmes sees you bright and
early tomorrow morning to go over everything.”

The doctor smiled
and left the room.

To Amanda’s utter
relief, the other bed in the semi-private room was unoccupied. She didn’t want
the world to witness the clash that was about to commence. She knew Jeffrey had
been waiting for the doctor’s departure so he could pounce on her for not
telling him about today’s visit with Dr. Holmes.

“Don’t start,”
Amanda warned. “I’m not in the mood to argue.”

“I don’t want to argue
with you, Amanda. I want to
talk
to
you.”

“Talking leads to
arguing.”

“It doesn’t have to.
That’s my point.” He took her hand. “It wasn’t always this way between us. We
used to talk to one another. We used to laugh. I want that back, baby.”

Amanda refused to
let anymore of the tears welling in her eyes escape.

“You have no right
to do this to me.” She choked on a sob. “I’m not the one to blame for the state
of our marriage.”

“Neither am I,” he
argued, though he kept his voice at a whisper’s pitch. But he was still
defending himself to her, and Amanda had had enough. It was time for him to own
up to what he had done.

“You slept with
another woman, Jeffrey. How can you say you’re not to blame?”

“Why don’t you
believe me when I tell you I have
never
been with anyone else? I’ve been in love with you since the very first moment I
laid eyes on you.”

The tears she’d
tried valiantly to suppress came down in earnest. She shouldn’t believe him,
but God knows she wanted to. With all her heart she wanted to believe the man
she married had never strayed. But how could she doubt something she’d seen
with her own eyes? She
had
seen them
together. It was not her imagination. Was it?

She couldn’t be sure
of anything anymore.

Jeffrey brought her
hand up to his lips and dusted her knuckles with feather-light kisses.

“I promise you,
Amanda, I have never even thought of being with another woman. I don’t know
what you think you saw, but it was not that. It’s never been about that.”

Amanda closed her
eyes, hoping to blot out the sight of his face. Because when she looked at him,
she saw sincerity. And honesty.

Deep in her heart,
Amanda knew he was telling the truth.

But her mind refused
to believe it.

Standing at the
stove, which sat in the middle of the island in his kitchen, Eli flipped
several strips of bacon with a fork and turned down the heat. He searched
through the utensil drawer for the wire whisk he knew was hidden away somewhere
in here. He pulled it out and used the whisk to beat the eggs into a fluffy,
light yellow froth.

Eli passed his hand
over the skillet of melting butter to ensure it was properly heated, then
poured in the eggs, using the whisk to scramble them.

He looked up to find
Monica lounging against one of the marble columns that marked the entryway from
the living room to the kitchen.

She’d thrown on one
of his scrub shirts. With the early morning sun streaming through the
floor-to-ceiling windows, Eli could see her naked body silhouetted through the
lightweight material. His body instantly hardened.

“Good morning,” Eli
said, smiling. After last night, he would probably smile for the rest of his
life.

Since the moment his
eyes opened, Eli’s thoughts had been fixated on the time they’d shared in bed
last night. He would have never imagined the ardor she possessed. Hidden behind
her straitlaced outward appearance was an inherent passion that had both
surprised and encouraged Eli to try things he had only dreamed of doing to a
woman. From the satisfied look on her face as she stared languidly at him from
across the room, Eli could only conclude Monica had enjoyed last night’s
experimenting as much as he did.

Her enthusiasm had
spurred him to go on for hours. He had never experienced anything like it. Even
as a horny teenager it had taken his body a good half-hour to recover before he
was ready to go again.

Not last night. Last
night, he had been going for Olympic gold. Just one look at her this morning,
and Eli was ready to defend his medal.

“You hungry,” he
asked, motioning to her with his head. He piled the fluffy eggs, bacon, and
seasoned potatoes onto a platter and walked over to the glass top table nestled
into a bay window. He went back to the kitchen counter and grabbed the carafe
of hot chicory coffee and small basket of croissants and flaky pastries.

“Where did you get
all this,” Monica asked.

“The bakery down the
street. I pass it on my morning jog, so I decided to stop in and pick up a few
things.”

“It’s just after
seven o’clock. What time did you go jogging?”

“Five-thirty. I like
to get in at least five miles in the morning.”

“I feel like such a
slacker compared to you.”

Eli leaned over and
gently pressed his lips to hers. “You have no need to workout,” he said in a
deep voice. “You have the perfect body.”

Her brows rose. “You
still think so after doing it with the lights on?”

“I know so,” Eli
murmured against her neck. “You are exquisite.”

Monica blew out a
haggard breath. “You sure know how to start a girl’s day off on the right foot.”

“If only we had the
time, sweetheart, I would have you singing for the rest of the day.”

Monica took a seat
on the edge of the table and crossed her legs.

Eli started to
salivate at the sight of her delicate brown thighs peeking from underneath the
hem of his shirt. Once again, his mind traveled back to last night. He could
feel those soft thighs cradling his head as he consumed her sweet flavor. Eli
closed his eyes, desperately fighting the urge to drape Monica over the table
and fill her body with his own.

She rose from her
perch on the table, took a seat and started filling a plate.

“What time do you
have to be at the hospital,” he asked.

Her eyes went to the
digital clock on the microwave. “In about another hour. I need to stop at my
place so I can shower and change.”

Eli’s heart fell.
There went his hopes for an abbreviated repeat of last night.

“Does your shift end
at six?” he asked.

She nodded as she
swallowed a fork full of potatoes. “Yeah, but I’ve got a ton of things to take
care of for the banquet after work. I need to stop at the caterer to finalize
the menu. Then, there’s the decorating company, whom I swear to you has no idea
what they’re doing. I asked for ecru balloons, and the woman pulls out this
awful eggshell.”

“Monica, you do
realize you have subcommittees to take care of these things, don’t you? You’ve
been running yourself ragged, tending to each tiny detail, when there really is
no need. Is there anything left for the rest of the banquet committee to
handle?”

“I just want to make
sure everything goes well,” she answered defensively.

He’d single-handily
ruined the mood of the morning. All of her sexy playfulness had vanished.

Since the damage was
done, Eli decided to go for broke. It had been on his mind, and now was as good
a time as any to bring it up.

“Why do you insist
on doing it all?” he asked.

“I do not.”

“Yes, you do. You’ve
got your hand in everything. Do you think the banquet will fall apart if you’re
not the one to finalize the menu, or if someone else makes sure the decorator
has the right color balloons? And what the hell kind of color is ecru, anyway?”

She wiped the sides
of her mouth with a napkin and tossed it on the half-eaten plate of food. “You
don’t know what you’re talking about.” Monica pushed her chair from the table
and rose.

“Whether you admit
it or not, you’re a control freak.”

She turned around,
and Eli could physically feel the heat emanating from her glare. He’d messed up
big time with that one.

Her eyes creased in
anger. In a slow, steady voice that belied the fury in her stare, she said, “I
left the catering details to Dr. Moore and had to end up finding another pastry
chef because he gave them the wrong date. Nurse Cannon from Pediatrics was in
charge of getting the tickets printed and we now have five hundred tickets with
Memorial Methodist Hospital instead of Methodist Memorial. If I don’t step in
now, we’re liable to have fluorescent pink tablecloths and Popeye’s Fried
Chicken as our dinner.

“There is a lot
riding on this banquet’s success. I have too much at stake, and I’m not
trusting just anyone to do it.”

“They are not
eleven-year-olds, Monica! These are professionals.”

“Who can’t remember
the correct name of the hospital where they have worked for years!”

This was hopeless.

Grabbing her hands,
Eli brought them to his lips and kissed her fingers. “Look, the last thing I
wanted to do was argue.”

“Well, something in
your plan went awry.” She jerked her hands away and crossed her arms over her
chest.

Eli threw his head
back in frustration. The scent from the roses he’d also picked up on his jog
was starting to give him a headache. The only reason he’d bought the damn
flowers was because Monica had said yellow roses were her favorite. He pinched
the bridge of his nose and tried to think of a way to salvage their morning.

“All I’m trying to
say is that you don’t have to kill yourself by doing everything,” he stated,
hoping she didn’t take off on another tirade. “People are not going to give the
center less money if the balloons are eggshell instead of ivory.”

“Ecru,” Monica
answered.

“Ecru,” Eli conceded.
“Are we okay?” he asked, opening his arms.

She hesitated for a
moment before stepping into his embrace and Eli sent up a silent prayer of
thanks. He wrapped his arms around her and squeezed. He loved the feel of her
soft body against him. He could stay like this for the rest of his life. Too
bad they both had to earn a living.

As if she read his
mind, Monica gently disengaged. “I need to go,” she said on a deep sigh. “I
want to catch Patty before she makes relief with the day shift.”

“Do you need me to
come with you to the caterer tonight?”

“Don’t worry about
it. I’m starting to reconsider whether I need to go.”

Yeah, right
. Eli would bet money that she would be at the caterer as soon as her
shift ended.

“Just in case you
change your mind, beep me. I’m sure I’ll still be at the hospital.”