Possessed by a Stranger (23 page)

“I woke you every six hours and you weren’t
happy about it. You’re taking an antibiotic. I called my doctor and
he phoned in a prescription. Then I trudged through the ice to the
drugstore. After I talked the pharmacists into opening the
drugstore, he filled the order. He wasn’t thrilled about getting
out in that mess. As sick as you were, I would have drug his ass
out forcibly if I had too. He must have come to that conclusion on
his own so he went willingly.”

“So you’re my hero. Thank you for taking care
of me. I need to shower. I feel all grubby.”

“You don’t have to thank me. I was glad I was
here. I’ll help you to the bathroom. You’re too weak to do anything
on your own. God, I’m so glad you’re better. Don’t ever get sick
again.”

He meant that with all his heart. He hadn’t
ever felt that helpless with her seriously ill and the ice storm
preventing any assistance from outside help. Luckily, he had his
doctor’s personal cell number. It took some persuasive talking to
convince him to phone in a prescription after Garret diagnosed
Hannah’s illness. The doctor prescribed an antibiotic for Hannah’s
sore throat. Then he faced the problem of getting to the drugstore.
Walking was his only option and it was only a couple miles. Once
there, he found it closed. He knew the pharmacist lived next door.
More persuasion was required to coax the man out of his warm home.
Everything he endured was well worth the results. The worst part
was leaving her alone while he made the slipping and sliding trip
to the drugstore. It worried him to think of what would have
happened if he wasn’t there. She was out here in the country
without any one to depend on to even check on her.

Her illness awakened her importance in his
life. He worried about her, he thought about her all week long. He
couldn’t imagine his life without her. He cared about her more than
he cared about anyone else in a very long time, if ever. This thing
they had was getting serious. That scared him almost as much as
living without her.

SHIT…..

CHAPTER TEN

Her hand crept from under the warm covers to
smack the heck out of the blaring alarm. Hannah had a busy day
ahead of her. Her minute by minute schedule swam around in her
head. Get up, get moving, and get going was the first things on her
long list.

Garret stirred, stretched and yawned in her
bed on a Monday morning. Hannah rolled over to make sure she wasn’t
lost in the land of wonderful dreams. He had stayed an extra night
which was the second time in their weekends … whatever they were.
Trysts, relationship, sexual encounters, she wasn’t sure. Last week
he had taken Monday off to nurse her back to health but he left
that evening. She pushed on his chest shaking him.

“Rise and shine.”

Garret flopped his arm over his sexy nymph.
“I’m awake. I knew I was going to regret this. Four-thirty in the
morning is when you tumble into bed or roll off you and sleep for a
couple hours… not get out of bed.” He felt her warmth snuggling
next to him.

“It was your idea and thank you. Then you
shouldn’t be tired. You rolled off me a couple hours ago. And ha ha
ha I don’t regret your poor judgment.”

She never regretted a night with him,
especially an extra night. Okay, so maybe he stayed because the
football game he was watching went into overtime. By the time it
was over it was stupid for him to leave. The reason wasn’t
important as long as he stayed.

“That’s because you don’t have to get up and
drive to the city.” He growled as he stretched again.

“Yes, I do. Now, get up. I’ll take the
downstairs bathroom and start the coffee. I have to meet my drivers
at six thirty.” She rolled away from him bouncing the bed to get
him moving.

“I would feel more like getting up if I
rolled on you again.” He missed at his attempt to catch her. It was
too damn early to be quick. At least he saw her naked body before
she slipped into her robe. He watched her grab clothes from her
drawers as he swung his feet to the floor.

“I can’t be late. I’ll make it up to you next
weekend.” She hurried out of the room knowing she would jump back
in bed if he asked again. Her work day was going to be long and
hard. She had to be at her storage buildings on time.

After his shower Garret felt semi-awake. He
smelled the coffee on his way down the stairs hoping she was
wearing her sexy librarian suit complete with fake black rimmed
glasses. That strip tease he previously fanaticized would be worth
him being late. No, she hadn’t taken it out of her closet. A cup of
coffee waited for him on the table. With her hair pulled into a
ponytail, wearing ass hugging jeans, pink athletic shoes and loose
work shirt, Hannah swiped crème cheese on toasted bagels. When she
turned to hand him a bagel he saw the pink tank top underneath the
unbuttoned work shirt over her braless breast. When in the hell was
that considered work attire?

“What in the hell are you doing today …
digging ditches?” She was dressed more like she was raising dicks
than digging ditches.

They had a lot to learn about each other on a
weekday morning. Her work apparel seemed to shock him.

“Moving furniture. We’re moving all the
pieces into the townhouse I’m redecorating. I had to hire extra men
to finish it today, so I can’t be late. I have to start early if I
want to get finished sometime before midnight.”

She had already made plans to crash on a
friends couch if her day ran long but she hoped he would extend an
invitation to stay with him. He hadn’t taken her to his townhouse
or even told her its location. Well, she hadn’t asked either. He
had serious privacy issues that came with being a Presley. It would
be a huge step in their relationship if he allowed her into his
home.

“You have done background checks on these
men, haven’t you?” Strange men she hired would see her dressed like
that. An uneasy feeling wafted over him.

“Of course I have. I’m taking them into a
client’s house and my insurance carrier requires background checks.
I wouldn’t want them to rob the client blind.” His lack of sleep
obviously left him grouchy. Either that or this was his normal
Monday morning mood. She would remember this if she ever got lucky
enough for him to stay again.

Her curt answer wasn’t reassuring. “Screw
your clients. It’s not them I’m worried about.”

He was worried about every man that got near
her now that he realized she worked with men. She snuggled into his
arms.

Disappointed he hadn’t taken her hint, she
comforted herself with his obvious concern for her safety. “I have
my regular drivers for protection. It’s nice to know you worry
about me but don’t. After you had Ted Jones question them about me,
Hank offered to handle the situation for me. They won’t let anyone
hurt me.”

“What did he mean by handle?” What kind of
men had she hired? She was still young and maybe she hadn’t
realized the dangers lurking behind every corner. Damn, now that
was something else he had to worry about.

“I don’t know and I didn’t ask. There may be
some things I don’t need to know about them. They are the best
drivers I’ve found and I’m not about to lose them.” She snuggled
closer trying to coax him to smile.

“I might need to meet your drivers. Don’t
trust any of these men.” He had an uneasy feeling his warning fell
on deaf ears.

She stood on her tiptoes pulling his head
toward her to kiss him goodbye. “I’ve known them longer than I’ve
known you. I’m always careful.”

Garret watched from the window as Hannah
drove away. It was one day later than their regular routine with
the same results. They separated for the rest of the week to live
their other lives. He would worry about her. Mainly because he
hadn’t a clue what she actually did during the week. He always
imagined her glued to the computer. She had mentioned the townhouse
before. He remembered her saying something about two months and
kitchen cabinets. So whose townhouse had she been in for the last
two months? He hadn’t bothered to ask at the time. Now, he wanted
to know who, how long, and what in the hell she did there.

Halfway into the city it dawned on him what
she said about finishing at midnight. Her apparel and her mention
of working with men had started his day off with him in a pissed
off mood. His brain skipped over her comment and focused on the
extra men she hired. Now, he wondered if she was hinting to stay in
the city with him. Damn, of course she was and he had missed it.
She should have straight out asked. Shit, he was hesitant with an
answer even now, after the fact. His townhouse was off limits to
women due to his notoriety. Only close friends and family knew
where he lived. The same frigging knot formed in his stomach just
like it had every time she was out of his sight.

By late evening his mood had worsened
worrying about Hannah driving home late at night. He imagined her
stuck on the interstate with a flat tire at the mercy of all the
perverts traveling on that stretch of the road. She could fall
asleep at the wheel, be forced off the road by a rapist, ran over
by a truck or numerous other hazards befalling a woman traveling
alone. Anything that happened to her would be his fault. He
selfishly placed his privacy over her safety and nothing should be
more important than her safety.

At eight PM he sent her a text asking if she
made it home. If she was back at the cottage he wouldn’t have to
break his number one rule on women visitors. With no reply at nine
PM, he sent another text asking where she was. He was worried but
suspected she might be pissed and was trying to teach him a lesson
by ignoring his text messages. By ten PM he was beside himself and
started leaving voicemails after his numerous calls weren’t
answered. He paced the floor with his cell phone in his hand. His
head ached from all the horrendous images that flashed in his
thoughts. All of which were followed by a rise in his temper as he
tried to convince himself she was just messing with him. With sleep
no longer an option he dressed to drive to her cottage.

His hand was on the front door knob when his
phone rang. “Where in the hell are you?” He demanded. Relieved of
his worry, his anger roamed free.

“My phone is almost dead. I just finished and
saw your text messages. I’m safe, fine and crashing with a friend.
I didn’t bring my charger but I’ll call you tomorrow evening when I
get home.” She rambled hurriedly through her excuse.

“I was worried about you. Who are you staying
with?”

“I’m staying with ….” The call ended.

Fuck, with one worry gone it was replaced
with another one. Where was she? Even if she told him which friend,
he still wouldn’t know where, or for that matter, put a face to the
name. He hadn’t met any of her friends but he was aware some of
them were male. Surely, she wouldn’t stay with some guy. That damn
bartender was a friend of hers. Garret vividly remembered the look
in his eyes and it wasn’t that of just a friend. Then, there was
the man that turned to look at her ass in the video. She was
inexperienced with dealing with men after being stuck with her ex
all those years. He couldn’t really complain about that prick since
he had saved her for him. He poured a glass of scotch to relax and
calm his nerves. He leaned on his pillows sipping the soothing
scotch hoping for sleep.

She sounded exhausted but why wouldn’t she.
She was up at four thirty this morning and had just finished at
eleven thirty at night. That was a ridiculously long day and he
would put a stop to any further marathons. She could relapse after
less than a week since her illness. When she called they would have
a serious conversation.

Garret found himself checking his cell phone
regularly throughout the day. The ringer’s volume was on high and
the missed call log was blank every time he looked which increased
his aggravation. It was after five and he was in the town car
almost home when his phone rang.

“Does this call mean you made it home alive?”
He barked not waiting on a hello.

Every bone and muscle in her body ached after
an exhausting completion of a major project. Hannah, drug herself
out of her car to run in a convenience store to purchase a car
charger for her phone. She discovered she left her charger at home
just in time for it to go dead. After contacting Garret, she had
said the hell with stopping last night and crashed on Sharon’s
couch for about four hours. Then, she was right back at the
townhouse going over the finishing touches before the final
inspection at noon.

Her phone had charged enough to turn on so
she dialed her voicemails first. The voicemail she expected from
one of the contractors wasn’t there. Instead, she listened to four
voicemails from Garret. They progressed from concern to frantic to
royally pissed. Her emotions progressed from “ahh” to “what?” to
“what the hell?” In his last voicemail he accused her of playing
childish games. He griped about his townhouse and how it was her
fault she wasn’t staying there. After hearing the irritation in his
voice she wished she had waited until she arrived home and text him
instead.

“I’m getting off my exit now. I stopped and
bought a car charger before I headed home. My phone finally charged
enough to turn back on and I just checked my voicemails. Would you
care to explain why I’m childish?”

After he worried all night and most of the
day she had the nerve to question him. He snapped his answer. “I
was worried and pissed. If you wanted to stay at my townhouse you
should have asked instead of hinting. Your hint didn’t sink in
until later in the evening.”

Her nerves were stretched to their limits.
The undeserved anger in his voice sparked her temper. “I had
already made arrangements and I don’t go where I’m not wanted …”
She paused for a second. “I’m sorry. That sounded bitchy as hell.
I’m tired and irritable and your voicemails didn’t help my mood.
Maybe, we shouldn’t talk about this right now.”