Deliver Me (32 page)

Was she in love?

No. Love didn’t happen
this quickly. So what if the man cooked her breakfast, opened car doors, and
looked spectacular in the buff? It took more than a couple of cozy dates, good
food, and great sex to make her fall in love. Didn’t it?

Monica pulled away
from the curb and headed for the interstate. She drove through Slidell, crossed
the state line into Mississippi, and felt confident when she saw the sign for
Interstate 59.

Peter Banyon, who
was filling in for Eli, told her that most of the replacement doctors were
staying at the Holiday Inn near the Hattiesburg hospital.

Two and a half hours
after leaving New Orleans, Monica pulled into the parking lot of the hotel and
smiled as she spotted Eli’s SUV. She parked, grabbed her bag from the back seat
and headed for the lobby. The front desk clerk sat behind the counter, thumbing
through a magazine.

“Can I have the room
number for Elijah Holmes,” Monica asked. “He’s expecting me.”

Big lie. Actually,
she had hoped he wouldn’t be there. It would have been a nice surprise to be
waiting in his bed when he returned. Naked.

“Monica?”

Monica turned at the
sound of Eli’s voice. She ran to him, wrapping her arms around his neck and
slathering his face with kisses.

“Don’t ask me what I’m
doing here. I have no idea.”

“I thought you had
things to take care of for the banquet.”

“I blew them off,”
Monica admitted, nearly giddy with the excitement of seeing him. How had she
fallen so hard, so fast?

“I don’t believe it,”
Eli said.

“I know. It’s so not
like me. I don’t know what’s happened to me, Eli. I think I’m addicted to you.”

The smug smile that
drew across his face made Monica wish she had the willpower to turn around and
leave. Lord knows the man had a big enough ego. But she wasn’t about to deny
herself. There was something about him that she was powerless to fight, and if
that made her weak where he was concerned, so be it. As long as she was in his
arms once again, that’s all that mattered.

Eli nibbled her
neck, pulling her closer, his body’s response to her boldly pressing against
her stomach. Monica shivered.

“You know,” Eli
said, “some doctors prescribe going cold turkey in order to overcome an
addiction. But I’ve always been of the mindset that if you really want to cure
it, you need to feed it.”

Monica moaned. He
felt so good. “What if I’m not looking for a cure?”

“Feed it anyway,” he
whispered against her neck, causing a trail of goose bumps to travel across her
flesh.

“Can we go up to
your room,” Monica asked, remembering for the first time since she’d ran into
Eli’s arms that they were standing in the middle of the hotel lobby.

“Yes,” Eli answered.
“Food can definitely wait.”

Monica lifted her
head from where it rested against his chest. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to stop
you from eating dinner,” she said, untangling from his embrace. “Go and get
something to eat. I can wait.”

“I can’t.”

“Eli, you need to
eat something.”

He cocked a brow.

Monica’s entire body
blushed. “I mean food.”

He looked to the
girl behind the desk. She was still engrossed in her magazine, and to Monica’s
relief, was not paying them any attention.

“How late does room
service deliver?” Eli asked.

“Ten,” she answered,
not raising her head.

“Dinner is solved.”

He grabbed Monica by
the hand and led her up the flight of stairs to the second floor. Monica nearly
shivered in anticipation.

She didn’t know what
was happening to her. She enjoyed sex as much as any healthy female, but she’d
never been champing at the bit. Eli was turning her into a sex fiend.

And, my goodness was
she loving it!

As soon as she
crossed the threshold, Eli picked her up, kicked the door close and carried her
to the bed. He laid her gently onto the soft bedding and covered her body with
his.

This time they took
it slow and easy, lavishing each other with moist kisses. Tasting each other
with languid tongues. Loving each other with full hearts.

Monica closed her
eyes and held on tight as Eli explored her body. She took pleasure in every
soft, reverent stroke, relishing the great care he employed as he worshipfully
made love to her.

When their pleasurable
journey ended, Monica wrapped herself in a sheet and went to stand on the
balcony while Eli ordered room service. A few minutes later, he joined her.

A million stars
twinkled in the darkened sky, like a swarm of lightning bugs in a pitch-black
rainforest. The night was quiet and peaceful, as if everyone had turned in
early, leaving nothing but the crickets to beautify the night with their music.

Monica took in the
clean air with a deep breath.

“Something wrong?”
Eli asked. He came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her shoulders. He
kissed the top of her head and squeezed tighter.

Monica shook her
head.

“You’re not talking
much,” he commented, running his hands up and down her arms.

She smiled inwardly.
“I’m speechless,” she finally said.

Elijah threw his
head back, his deep laughter rumbling through the quiet darkness. “That’s about
the best compliment I’ve ever received.”

Monica sobered. “Have
you had many?”

“Many what?”

“Compliments.
For...you know…”

She felt him sigh
against her back. “Why would you pick right now to ask me something like that?”

She turned to face
him. “Because I want to know.”

“You’ll just get
upset and stop talking to me, and it’ll take the rest of the night for me to
get back in your good graces. I had other plans for our night.”

“I won’t get upset.”
She drew a cross over her chest with her finger. “I promise.”

“Yeah, right,” Eli
muttered. After a few moments he said, “I’ll make a deal with you. I’ll tell
you what you want to know, if you do the same for me.”

She laughed. “I don’t
have much to tell, but fine.”

“Okay. So, what do
you want to know?”

“How many serious
girlfriends have you had?”

“Two.”

“Does this include
the woman who came to your Mother’s last Sunday?”

“Three,” he
corrected.

Monica chewed on
that piece of information for a bit. She pretended to look for dirt underneath
her fingernails. With feigned casualness she knew Eli would see right through,
she asked, “How many women have you’ve slept with?”

“You don’t want to
know. Next question.”

“Give me an estimate.”

“No.”

Monica crossed her
arms over her chest. He uncrossed them and brought her hands to his lips,
giving each of her fingers a light peck.

“Have you ever heard
that sex is different for men and women?” he asked.

She nodded.

“It’s true,” Eli
stated. “I will be the first to admit that during those years when I was not in
a serious relationship, sex meant nothing more than physical relief. It was
like eating and drinking, just a basic, everyday necessity.”

“You’re right, I don’t
want to hear this.” Monica tried to pull away, but he held onto her hands.

“I now know the
difference between having sex and making love.” His eyes became serious. “Making
love to you is a hundred times more meaningful than it has ever been before.”

A rush of warmth
washed over her, skating across her skin with sensual awareness. Her legs felt
weak, as if they wouldn’t hold her up. It was the most beautiful thing anyone
had ever said to her.

“Now, it’s your
turn,” Eli said.

Monica had to clear
her throat before she could speak again. “I told you, I don’t have anything you
would really want to know,” she said, her emotions reeling from his heartfelt
proclamation.

“I beg to differ.”
He grabbed her hands and kissed them. “I want to know who hurt you.”

Monica frowned in
confusion. “What do you mean?”

“I know you’ve been
hurt, Monica. The signs are all there.”

And all this time
she thought she had done a pretty good job of keeping her feelings shielded. It
was scary to think Eli could see through her so easily.

“His name was
Patrick,” Monica said, resigned to the fact that he would eventually find out. “I
dated him for six years.” She shifted uncomfortably. “We talked about marriage
on and off, but Patrick always said he wasn’t ready.”

“He was a coward,”
Eli said.

“No. He was right,”
Monica asserted. “If Patrick and I had married it would have been the biggest
mistake of both our lives. I didn’t love him,” she admitted. “At least I didn’t
love him in the way you’re supposed to love the person you’re going to spend
the rest of your life with.”

“Why did you stay
with him for so long?” Eli asked.

“He was safe,” she
said simply.

“I don’t understand.”

“I needed to be with
someone who could live up to my parents’ high standards, and make me look good
in their eyes, for once.” She tipped her head up. “You see, I’m considered the
slacker in my family.”

“You? Miss Top Five
Percent in Her Class?”

“That’s four
percentage points from the number one spot. And for Catherine and Garrett
Gardner, nothing but number one will do.”

“So what does this
have to do with you and the jerk you dated?”

She shrugged. “Patrick
comes from a prominent family. He was the type of guy my parents expected me to
end up with. So, I convinced myself I was happy. Well, happy enough.”

He gave her arm a
gentle squeeze and Monica nearly faltered. She expected ridicule. She had never
imagined Eli would offer her comfort, nor had she expected the soothing
reassurance it would bring.

Spurred by his
encouraging embrace, Monica continued. “In a way, I don’t fault Patrick for
leaving. Everyone deserves to find true love, and maybe that’s what he’s found.
It’s the way he left that I can’t forgive.”

Monica took another
deep, reassuring breath.

“About a year ago, I
came in from a terrible day at work to find Patrick sitting at the table with
another woman. His bags and boxes of his stuff were stacked next to the door.
He introduced the woman as Elaina and told me she was pregnant and that he was
leaving me. They had been married earlier that morning.”

“Oh, baby.” Eli
wrapped his arms around her and held her head against his chest. His compassion
was nearly her undoing, but Monica refused to shed a single tear over past
mistakes with Patrick, especially in the arms of the man she was beginning to
love.

Eli pulled back and
dipped down to her eye level. “I knew you were in pain, but I never would have
guessed how much he hurt you.”

“Not anymore.
Really,” Monica assured him when he gave her a skeptical look. “I’m better off
without him,” she said, and for the first time in over a year, she actually
believed the words. As of this moment, as she stood surrounded by Eli’s strong
arms, she knew for certain she no longer needed Patrick Dangerfield in her
life. Eli was all the man she needed.

He captured her by
the shoulders and turned her around. He resumed their previous position with
her back against his chest. He rested his chin on her head and held her in his
arms as they swayed side to side, surrounded by the silent, peaceful night.

Happiness bubbling
over within her at the thought of how Eli had freed her heart, Monica smiled
contently, relishing his warm embrace. She felt as if a thousand pound boulder
had been lifted from her shoulders.

“Now, I have another
question for you,” she said.

“I thought I’d
already had my turn?” he murmured.

“The counsel has
rebuttal rights.”

Eli let out an
exaggerated sigh. “Fine. Whatever you say, counselor.” He dragged out the last
word. “What else do you want to know?”

“How did your rule
on not dating doctors come about?” she asked. It had been a burning issue since
the moment Monica had heard the nurses discussing Dr. Holmes’s hard, fast rule.
Even before she had any romantic intentions toward him, Monica would admit she
had been miffed about his unwillingness to date a woman simply because she was
a doctor.

There was a knock at
the door.

“Saved by the bell,”
Eli said. “Stay here, I’ll get that.” He winked as he left her standing on the
balcony while he collected their dinner.

“The pasta looks
good,” Eli said, coming up to the sliding door. “You better get back in here
before it gets cold.”

“Not so fast,”
Monica caught him by the waistband of the pajama bottoms he’d pulled on over
his silk boxers when he went to answer the door.