One Special Christmas & Home for the Holidays (35 page)

“What happened?” the policeman asked, kneeling beside Laura.

“She was mugged.”

“I'll call an ambulance,” he said, rising.

Laura's eyes fluttered open, and though she had trouble focusing, her hearing was fine. An ambulance meant a hospital, and the last time she'd been to a hospital was the night she'd left Joe. She had no wish to return to a place of such unpleasant memories.

“No,” she said hoarsely.

Nick took her hand. “Laura, sweetheart, you have to go to the hospital. You could be seriously injured,” he said gently.

Laura's eyes turned to his. “Nick?” Her voice quavered, and he felt as if someone had kicked
him
in the gut.

“Yeah, honey, it's me.”

“No hospital,” she repeated stubbornly.

The police officer hesitated, and Nick looked up at him. “Call an ambulance,” he said curtly. Then he turned his attention back to Laura. “Laura, I'll stay with you the whole time, okay? I won't leave you.”

Laura looked up at him, and even in the dim light she could make out the lines of worry etched in his face. She tried to reach up and smooth them away, but the attempt brought a searing pain intense enough to make her realize that Nick was right.

“Okay,” she said raspily.

“That's my girl,” he said, squeezing her hand, making an effort to smile reassuringly.

Laura tried to smile in return, wanting to reassure him that she was okay, but the effort was beyond her. Instead, she closed her eyes, taking comfort in the warm clasp of his hand.

Nick saw her eyes close, wondered if she'd lost consciousness again and began to panic.

“So where's the ambulance?” he snapped when the officer rejoined them.

“It will be here any minute,” the officer reassured him. He glanced down at Laura. “She looks pretty banged up,” he said.

“Yeah.”

“I take it you know her?”

“I was on my way to see her. She lives in an apartment over there,” he replied, pointing out Laura's building. “I had just parked when I saw them. I don't know what would have happened if I hadn't…” His voice broke, and the officer reached out a hand to grip his shoulder.

“It was lucky for her,” he agreed.

The faint echo of a siren was the most beautiful sound Nick had ever heard, and though he knew it must have taken only minutes to arrive, he felt as if he'd lived a lifetime. Laura's eyes flickered open as the two paramedics bent over her and Nick relinquished her hand.

“Nick?” Her voice was frightened.

“I'm right here, honey,” he said.

The paramedics performed a quick examination and then went to retrieve the stretcher. Nick squatted beside Laura again. “I'll ride with you in the ambulance.”

She nodded gratefully, her eyes clinging to his with
a vulnerability that made his heart contract. He was filled with a sudden rage at the injustice of this, and at that moment he felt capable of murder.

As the paramedics bent to lift her to the stretcher, Laura moaned, and Nick saw the tears running down her cheeks.

“Can't you guys be a little more gentle?” he barked, wishing it was him on that stretcher instead of her.

The paramedics glanced at the policeman, who just inclined his head toward the ambulance. Then he turned his attention back to Nick. “I'll follow you to the hospital. I'll need a statement, since you were a witness, and hopefully the victim will be able to talk to me later.”

“Her name is Laura. Laura Taylor,” Nick said, his voice tight. Then he strode toward the ambulance and climbed in beside her, noting how icy her hand felt when he took it in his.

“Her hands are cold,” he said shortly as the ambulance pulled away from the curb.

“Shock,” one of the paramedics replied.

Nick lapsed into silence, and Laura didn't open her eyes again until she was being wheeled into the emergency room. He stayed beside her, determined to honor his promise despite the nurse who was bearing down on him.

“Sir, you can wait over there,” she said.

Nick glared at her. “No way. I said I'd stay with her, and I intend to do just that. I'll keep out of your way.”

The woman took one look at the stubborn set of his jaw and nodded. “I'll let the doctor know.”

“You do that,” he said, his eyes never leaving Laura. As they rolled to a stop, he bent over her and stroked her forehead. “Laura,” he said gently, taking her hand.
Her eyes flickered open. “We're at the hospital. I've got to stand back so the doctor can take a look at you, but I'll only be a few steps away, close enough to talk to, if you want.” Her eyes were frightened, but she nodded and he released her hand.

Nick moved to the side of the room while the nurse removed the tattered remnants of her blouse and eased the jeans down her hips. Nick swallowed and looked away, respecting her modesty, knowing she would be embarrassed by being so exposed before him. With an effort, he kept his eyes averted as the doctor did a cursory exam and spoke with the nurse in low tones. Not until she was wheeled to X ray did he leave her side, reassuring her that he'd be waiting.

Wearily he made his way toward the waiting room, where he found the policeman. After one look at Nick's face the officer disappeared into a side room, reappearing a moment later with a cup of coffee.

“You look like you could use this. Actually, you look like you could use something a lot stronger, but the closest thing they have in this place is rubbing alcohol.”

Nick accepted it gratefully, noting in surprise that his hands were shaking. He took a long, scalding swallow, then he let his eyelids drop, forcing himself to take several deep breaths. It helped, but he still felt unsteady. When he opened his eyes, he met the policeman's sympathetic gaze.

“If I sounded a bit short-tempered before, I'm sorry,” Nick said hoarsely. “I know you all were doing everything you could. And you sure showed up at the right time.”

“A neighbor called and reported a disturbance,” he
explained. “And there's no need to apologize. I understand the strain you were under. Is she okay?”

Nick sighed and sank down into a plastic chair, the kind he always found so uncomfortable. Only tonight he didn't notice. “I don't know. She's in X ray.”

“Can you tell me what happened?”

“Only what I saw. I think I must have come along toward the end,” Nick explained.

The officer took notes as Nick spoke, looking up when he paused. “Could you give me a description of the assailant?”

Ruefully, Nick shook his head. “It was too dark. The guy took off before I got close enough to see anything, and he had a hat pulled low over his eyes. All I know for sure is that he was big—football-player type.”

The policeman nodded. “Maybe Ms. Taylor will be able to add something to this,” he said.

“I'm not sure she'll be up to talking to you tonight,” Nick cautioned.

“If she's not, we'll do it another time,” he said easily.

Nick's attention was suddenly distracted as he saw Laura being wheeled back into the examining room, and he was on his feet instantly. She had been left alone for the moment, and he moved close, alarmed by her pallor. Her face looked as white as the sheet drawn up barely high enough to cover her breasts. His eyes flickered across the expanse of skin, noting the long, angry bruise that marred the creamy flesh at her shoulder, apparently inflicted by the strap of her bag. He also noted something else—a three-inch-long scar of older vintage near the top of her right breast. He frowned, wondering about its origin. But before he
could speculate, Laura called his name softly and his eyes flew to hers. Her hand reached for his through the bars of the gurney, and he gripped it tightly, reassuringly. His other hand smoothed the hair back from her face. The blood had been cleaned away, but her nose was puffy and one eye was purple and swollen nearly shut. His throat tightened painfully and he found it difficult to swallow.

“I guess I don't look so hot, huh?” she said, trying to smile.

“You look beautiful to me,” he said hoarsely. Her eyes filled with tears, and he leaned closer, his breath warm on her cheek. “It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay to cry.”

“I ne-never cry,” she said, her words choppy as she fought for control.

“Well, maybe you should make an exception this once,” he said softly.

The door swung open and, after one more worried look at Laura, Nick straightened up. The doctor glanced at him before his gaze came to rest on Laura. “Would you like him to stay while we discuss your condition?”

“Yes.”

“All right.” The doctor moved beside her. “You're a very lucky woman, Ms. Taylor. No broken bones, no internal injuries as far as we can determine. You've got quite a shiner, though, so I'd suggest an ice pack when you get home. The nose will be tender for a few days, but it will heal without any help. The ribs are another story. None are broken, but they're badly bruised. You'll need to take it easy for at least a week or so to give them a chance to start healing.”

“A week?” she asked in alarm.

“At least,” he confirmed.

“But, Doctor, I—”

“I'll see that she takes care of herself, Doctor,” Nick interrupted, ignoring her protest.

Laura turned her head on the pillow and stared at him, but she remained silent.

The doctor looked from one to the other and gave a satisfied nod. “Good.” Then he turned his attention to Laura. “There's a police officer here who would like to talk to you if you feel up to it.”

Laura's hand reached for Nick's again. “I suppose I might as well get it over with.”

“I'll send him in,” the doctor said. “Then the nurse will help you dress and we'll give you something to relieve the pain so you can rest.” He moved to the door and motioned to the officer.

Laura's details of the attack were even more vague than Nick's, and she looked at the policeman apologetically. “It happened so fast, and it was so dark… All I know is that he was big. And strong.”

“Age? Race?” he prompted.

She shook her head slowly. “I'm sorry.”

“Do you usually walk at that time of night?”

She shook her head. “No. I had taken the bus home, and—”

“Wait a minute,” Nick interrupted. “What happened to your car? I thought you were picking it up tonight.”

“It wasn't ready.”

“Then why didn't you call me for a ride?” he demanded angrily.

“Mr. Sinclair.” There was a warning note in the officer's voice.

Nick sighed and raked a hand through his hair. “Sorry.”

“Go on, Ms. Taylor.”

Laura finished her story and then looked at him resignedly. “I suppose there's not much chance of catching him, is there?”

“Honestly? None,” he admitted frankly, closing his notebook. “He didn't get your purse, did he?”

“No. I had a pretty good grip on it.”

“Let me leave you with one piece of advice, Ms. Taylor,” the policeman said in a matter-of-fact tone. “I hope this never happens to you again. But if it should, forget your purse. Let it go. Your life is worth a lot more. That man could have had a gun or a knife. And I can guarantee you that if he had, you wouldn't be here right now. You'd be in the morgue,” he said bluntly. Laura stared at him, tears welling up in her eyes. When he spoke again his voice was gentler. “I'll wait outside and give you folks a ride home whenever you're ready.”

Nick could feel Laura trembling, and he stroked her head. “He's right, you know.”

“But that guy was trying to take my purse,” she said stubbornly.

“So let him have it! Good grief, Laura, was it worth this?”

“It's mine,” she said, squeezing her eyelids shut. “I won't let anyone take what's mine. I won't be a victim again,” she said fiercely, the tears spilling onto her cheeks. She opened her eyes and looked up at Nick. “Take me home, please,” she pleaded.

He hesitated for a fraction of a second, still trying to figure out her last remark, and then reached down and smoothed the hair back from her face. “I'll get the nurse.”

He waited outside while the woman helped Laura dress, and the doctor came over to speak to him. “I've given her a pretty strong sedative. She's had a bad shock, and the pain from her injuries will get worse before it gets better. This will knock her out for about twelve hours. By then her eye and nose should feel a little better. But those ribs are going to be sore, so she'll probably need this by tomorrow,” he said, handing Nick a prescription. He paused for a moment before continuing. “She really shouldn't be left alone tonight.”

“She won't be.”

The doctor nodded. “That's what I thought.”

The nurse appeared at the door, supporting Laura, who was walking hunched over, one hand pressed to her side. Her blouse, damaged beyond repair, had been replaced by an oversize surgical shirt that made her appear small and defenseless. Her face was gray with pain, and Nick moved to her side. “Maybe you should stay tonight,” he said worriedly.

“No! I want to go home, Nick.” Her eyes pleaded with him and, though it was against his better judgment, he relented.

“Okay. But not to your place. I'm not leaving you alone tonight. I want you close where I can keep an eye on you. You'll stay with me.”

Laura looked up at him and opened her mouth to protest, but after one glance at his stony face she shut it. It was obvious that arguing would get her nowhere, and she wasn't up to it, anyway. She'd be perfectly all
right alone, of course. But she had to admit that his concern had done more to relieve her pain than any drug the doctor could have offered.

B
y the time they got back to Laura's apartment, the sedative she'd been given was making her feel strangely light-headed, She was grateful for Nick's steady arms as he eased her into the front seat of his sports car, then squatted down beside her.

“Laura, is there anything you absolutely have to have from your apartment tonight?” he asked slowly, enunciating each word.

She frowned, trying to concentrate, but her mind felt fuzzy. “No, I don't think so.”

“Okay. Then we'll head over to my place. It won't take long,” he said, giving her hand an encouraging squeeze before gently closing the door.

Laura dozed as they drove, rousing only when he stopped at a drugstore.

“I'll only be a minute, and I'll lock the doors,” he said, turning to her. “Will you be all right?”

“Yes.”

He studied her carefully, a frown on his face. “I know you're hurting, sweetheart. But hang in there. We're almost home.”

Oddly enough, she wasn't hurting. In fact, every bone in her body had gone limp and she felt as if she were floating. It was a pleasant sensation, and she let herself drift off again, hardly conscious of Nick's return and completely unaware of the worried frown he cast her way.

But reality came back with a vengeance when they arrived at Nick's condo and she tried to get out of the car. Even though he was helping her, a sharp, piercing pain shot through her rib cage, rudely assaulting her senses and leaving her gasping for breath.

Nick leaned in when she hesitated, took one look at her face and, without a word, put one arm under her knees and another around her shoulders, lifting her effortlessly out of the car. Even that hurt, though he'd been as gentle as possible, and tears stung her eyes. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, burying her face in his chest and clutching the soft cotton of his shirt as he cradled her in his arms.

Nick looked down at her bowed head, felt the tremor that ran through her body and wished he had some magical way of transporting her upstairs. But this was the best he could do. And the fact that she hadn't protested being carried told him more eloquently than words just how badly she was hurting.

Taking care to jostle her as little as possible, he pushed the door shut with his foot and strode to his condo, his step faltering only when he reached the door. He paused uncertainly and then leaned close to her ear, his breath comfortingly warm against her cheek as he spoke. “Laura, honey, I've got to put you down while I open the door. Can you stand on your own for a minute?”

Laura wasn't sure she could sit, let alone stand, but there was obviously no choice, so she nodded.

Carefully Nick lowered her legs to the ground, keeping one arm around her shoulders as he reached for the key. “Okay?” he asked gently.

She gave a barely perceptible nod, trying desperately to keep her knees from buckling.

From the way she clung to him, Nick knew that she was on shaky ground. The moment he had the door open he once again lifted her gently into his arms, and she nestled against him in a trusting way that made his throat constrict with the realization that, for the first time in this relationship, he felt truly needed. And surprisingly, for a man who'd studiously avoided the demands of a serious relationship, he found that it felt good. Amazingly good.

Laura shifted slightly in his arms, which effectively forced him to refocus his thoughts. Without bothering to turn on the lights downstairs, he quickly made his way through the dark living room and up the stairs to his bedroom, flicking on the light with his elbow as he entered. Laura felt herself being lowered to the bed, and when his arms released her she opened her eyes, took a deep breath and smiled at him shakily.

“I'm impressed,” she said.

Nick was relieved that she was able to smile at all after what she'd been through, and he squatted down beside her. “What do you mean?”

“You must lift weights or something to be able to lug me all the way from the parking lot to the condo and then up those stairs.”

“Well, I didn't want to tell you, but Superman was my cousin. Muscles run in our family,” he teased gently.
“When you feel better, I'll show you my cape.” He was rewarded by another smile. “I'm going to fix an ice pack for that eye,” Nick said, straightening up. “Just lay there and rest until I get back.”

“Gladly.”

By the time he returned, Laura was dozing, and he paused in the doorway for a moment, his throat tightening as he studied her bruised face, his simmering rage once again threatening to erupt. If only he'd gotten to her a few moments sooner. She, who had always been so independent and strong, now seemed so fragile and vulnerable. He was surprised by the protective instinct she'd brought out in him, finding it a heady, but not unwelcome, feeling.

He moved beside her then, and her eyes fluttered open as he reached down and stroked her cheek. “Laura, I've got the ice pack. But first you need to change into something more comfortable. Jeans are great—but not for sleeping.”

“I don't have anything,” she said, her words slightly slurred.

“Well, I have a pajama top that might work.” He moved to his dresser and rummaged in a drawer, looking for the rarely-used piece of clothing. The pajamas had been a gift from his mother, and he'd never worn them. In quick decision, he removed the bottoms as well as the top from the drawer before returning to her side.

“Laura, can you manage this?” he asked.

“I think so,” she replied, looking at the pajama top he was holding.

“Okay. I'll wait outside. Let me know when you're ready.”

Nick closed the door and leaned a shoulder against the wall, folding his arms against his chest. He took a deep, harsh breath and then expelled it slowly as a sudden, numbing weariness swept over him, the traumatic events of the past few hours finally extracting their toll. The sound of running water in the bathroom told him that at least Laura was able to move around a little, although what it cost her he couldn't imagine. Then he heard the water go off, and Nick waited expectantly for her to call to him. After several minutes, he frowned and knocked on the door. “Laura? Can I come in?”

There was a brief pause before she responded. “Yes.”

He opened the door and found her still dressed, standing, one hand gripping the bedpost.

“Laura, honey, what's wrong?”

She looked at him, tears of pain and frustration in her eyes. “I can't get undressed,” she said, her voice quavering. “It hurts too much.”

“Then let me help you,” he said without hesitation, quickly moving beside her. Noting the uncertainty in her eyes, he placed his hands on her shoulders and forced himself to smile. “Now, don't tell me you're worried about my intentions. I promise you I've never seduced a woman with a black eye.”

Laura's lower lip trembled. She hated being so helpless, so dependent. But like it or not, she needed assistance tonight. Nick was available and willing, and if she had to rely on a man, there was no one else she would have chosen. “I guess I don't have a choice,” she said with a sigh.

“Not tonight, I'm afraid. Now what exactly is the problem?”

“It hurts when I try to pull this thing over my head,” she said, gesturing to the surgical top.

“Does it hurt when you lift your arms?”

“A little. But I can manage it.”

“Okay, then just sit here,” he said, easing her down on the side of the bed, “and lift your arms while I do the pulling. I'll stand behind you,” he said easily. “It's okay if I look at your back, isn't it?” he asked with a grin.

She smiled shakily. “Yeah. I guess so.”

He moved around to the other side of the bed, and she felt the mattress shift under his weight as he came up behind her. “Okay, sweetheart, let's give it a try.”

Obediently she raised her arms, and Nick gently lifted the surgical top over her head. As it skimmed her sides he glanced down, his eyes arrested momentarily by the huge blackish-purple bruise stretching across her rib cage. He paused, a muscle tightening in his jaw, his stomach churning with anger and sympathy. She must be hurting—badly—yet she hadn't complained once.

“Nick?” Laura's voice was muffled, but he could hear the puzzled tone.

“We're doing great,” he assured her, smoothly completing the maneuver. Then he turned to lay the garment aside, giving her a moment to slip her arms into the pajama top. By the time he came around to the other side of the bed, she was huddled miserably, her face once again pale and drawn. He dropped to one knee and took her hands between his, caressing the backs gently with his thumbs.

“I'm so sorry, Laura,” he said, his voice laced with anguish. “I wish there was something I could do to help.”

“You've done more than enough already. I'm sorry to have caused you all this trouble.”

“It's no trouble. Believe me.”

Laura looked into his eyes and believed. Unquestionably. Not knowing how to respond, unable in her present state to deal with complicated emotions, her gaze skittered away.

Sensing her discomfort, Nick rose and placed his hands on his hips. “What about the jeans?”

“I can get them down to my knees. I have trouble after that.”

“Okay.” He nodded, turning around. “Get them that far and I'll take care of the rest.” He heard her stand, heard the zipper, heard the friction of the coarse denim fabric against her skin.

“All right, Nick.”

When he turned back she was lying on the bed, the pajama top pulled down as far as possible but still revealing a long expanse of thigh and leg. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to focus on her pain. Any other thoughts were totally inappropriate at the moment, he told himself sternly. With an effort he drew his eyes away from the hem of the pajama top, and noted that the jeans were bunched around her knees. Silently he reached over and quickly eased them down her legs.

“Shoes,” she said.

“What?” he asked distractedly.

“Shoes,” she repeated, pointing to the athletic shoes and socks she still wore. “I don't think the jeans will go over them. And besides, I don't usually wear shoes to bed.”

Nick flashed her a grin and bent to remove them, quickly stripping off her socks, as well. “Well, what's
this?” he asked in surprise, cradling her foot in his hand.

“What's what?” she asked, puzzled. When he tapped one of her rosily polished toenails, she blushed. “Oh. You've discovered my one concession to vanity,” she admitted sheepishly. “I've always envied women with beautiful nails, but unfortunately in my line of work that's not very practical. This is the next best thing. It's good for my ego, if nothing else.”

Nick smiled at this unexpected facet of her character. He would never have believed it if he hadn't seen it for himself. With her sensible nature, Laura just didn't seem the type who would indulge in something like polished toenails. But apparently even she had a frivolous side. Which was fine as far as he was concerned. He had begun to think she never did anything for herself. Painted toenails weren't much, admittedly, but they were a start.

“You think it's silly, don't you?” she said, her cheeks still flushed.

“On the contrary. I think it's charming.”

She smiled shyly and closed her eyes as everything began to grow hazy again. “I think I'll rest for a bit,” she mumbled sleepily.

“Good idea. I'll hold this ice bag on your eye for a while, okay?” She nodded, wincing when he first placed it against her skin, but then gradually drifting into welcome oblivion.

Nick stayed with her for another half hour, and when he was satisfied that her deep, even breathing indicated sleep, he pulled the sheet up and tenderly brushed his lips across her forehead before turning the light off.

Once in the hall, he wearily rubbed the back of his
neck. Laura was docile tonight because she was hurting. But he knew when she woke up tomorrow she'd be hyper about her business, so diversionary tactics were needed. He frowned, trying to remember the name of her new foreman. Ken something. Nichols…Nolan… Nelson, that was it. With any luck, he'd be in the phone book.

Ten minutes later, after a satisfactory conversation with Ken, he headed back upstairs to the loft sitting area that overlooked the living room and opened up the sofa bed, glad now that he'd had the foresight to buy it. Although he'd never imagined that he'd be the first to use it, he thought ruefully.

By the time he took a quick shower downstairs and made up the bed, it was nearly two in the morning. But though he was bone tired, he still felt too keyed up emotionally to sleep. Rather than even try, he prowled around restlessly, verifying that he had breakfast food in the kitchen, going through his mail, looking over a few plans in the downstairs bedroom that he'd turned into an office, checking on Laura every few minutes. When at last his body revolted, he climbed into the sofa bed, yawned hugely and turned out the light.

Sleep came more quickly than he expected, a deep sleep that dulled his senses. So it took a long time for him to wake up, brought back to consciousness by something he couldn't immediately identify. Groggily he glanced at the illuminated dial of his watch and groaned. Three-thirty. His eyes flickered closed and he was beginning to drift back to sleep when Laura's soft sobs suddenly penetrated his sleep-fogged brain. Instantly alert, he swung his feet to the floor and moved quickly down the hall, pausing briefly on the threshold
of her room, which was illuminated only by a dim night-light. In the shadows, he heard Laura thrashing fretfully around on the bed, mumbling incoherently, sobbing quietly. She must be having a nightmare, he thought, moving quietly beside her, and he wasn't surprised, not after what she'd been through. She'd probably be plagued with them for months, only the next time he wouldn't be there to comfort her, he thought, a muscle clenching in his jaw. He bent to gently touch her shoulder when suddenly Laura flung out an arm.