Witness… And Wife?. Kate Stevenson

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ tangled around her legs. Her movements grew sluggish. Warmth drained from her body, like blood from an open wound.

      A traitorous voice urged surrender, told her she couldn’t win. She refused to listen. Ignoring her aching chest, her cold-numbed limbs, she gathered herself for one final assault.

      She called on her last bit of willpower and launched herself.

      Forward.

      Upward.

      Toward freedom.

      For long moments she floated, pulling great gulps of air into her burning lungs as the nightmare receded. Gradually her breathing steadied and the world stopped spinning. The gentle rocking of waves solidified into a hard, lumpy surface that poked uncomfortably into her backside. She opened her eyes. Beneath her head, the pillow was damp. A sheet twisted around her legs.

      Sounds, muffled and distant, grazed her ears. A low hum. A faint rattle. Her muddled brain registered the whisper of rubber-soled shoes brushing against tile. An antiseptic smell hung in the air.

      Groggily she peered around, straining to make sense of the dim shapes. Metal bars hemmed the bed. The outline of a nightstand. And on the other side of the room, the edge of a darkened doorway.

      A hospital? What was she doing in a hospital? Alarm spasmed through her.

      “Awake?” a voice whispered.

      The single word perforated the quiet of the room. Her heart lurched. She jerked toward the source and instantly regretted the movement. Pain stabbed behind her eyes, setting off a jackhammer in her skull. Muscles screamed in protest.

      She gasped. What on Earth was the matter with her?

      “Take it slow, slugger.”

      Slugger? No one called her slugger anymore. The only ones who used the nickname she’d earned at age eight were her brothers and…Luke.

      No, it couldn’t be him.

      The metallic taste of despair coated her throat, overriding the throbbing in her head. She closed her eyes in denial, remembering the last time she’d lain in a hospital bed, the last time she’d heard the same gravel-edged voice utter the silly nickname.

      The last time.

      Or was the last time now?

      Her stomach knotted and she clenched a fist against it in an attempt to ward off a rising tide of nausea. Surely she hadn’t just…

      Fragmented scenes flashed across her mind—bits and pieces of her life that assured her she hadn’t imagined the passage of time. Her queasiness eased.

      A nightmare, then.

      She frowned, wincing as skin tightened over bone.

      No nightmare. She felt too awful to be dreaming. Taking care to make no more sudden moves, she shifted her head and peered into the shadows, hoping she was wrong about the speaker’s identity.

      “Can you stand a little light?”

      No. She didn’t want to see, didn’t want to know who was there. Before she could protest she heard a click, and white pricked the darkness, illuminating the figure next to the bed. She squeezed her eyes shut as her suspicion was confirmed.

      It was Luke.

      A rush of longing, more potent than anything she’d allowed herself to feel in ages, clogged her throat. What was he doing here? No one had told her he’d returned to Colorado. But then, why should they? No one knew it mattered. No one—not even her family—knew what it had cost her to offer her ex-husband his freedom and then watch him walk out of her life. Without a single protest.

      A familiar, aching hollow opened inside her, an emptiness more draining than whatever had landed her in this bed. Wearily she opened her eyes, knowing she had to say something. “What…happened?” Her tongue, suddenly three sizes too big for her mouth, stumbled awkwardly over the words.

      “There was an accident.” He lifted the water container from the table beside the bed. “Would you like some water?”

      She nodded, then regretted the movement as pain needled down her neck. What did he mean, “an accident”?

      Before she could make sense of the statement, he’d slipped an arm beneath her shoulders for support and eased her higher, allowing access to the container’s plastic straw. She gulped greedily, trying to ignore the pressure of firm muscles at her back and his palm warm against her arm. When he finally drew away, it was like losing him all over again. Perilously close to tears, she said the first thing that came to mind. “I thought you were in Texas.”

      Only when his expression tightened did she realize how accusatory she sounded. Helplessness enveloped her. Around Luke, it seemed she never said the right thing.

      “I’ve had enough of Texas. Two years was all I could take.” He shrugged, the nonchalant gesture at odds with his bleak tone. “No Rocky Mountains.”

      Two years? It seemed like yesterday. Through eyes barely open she studied his heavily shadowed jaw and uncompromising mouth. He hadn’t changed a bit. Except that now, instead of condemnation, she sensed a flicker of concern in his eyes. Tears prickled against her lids.

      Too late. An eternity too late.

      Two years ago she’d needed him. Not now. She concentrated on the throbbing in her head in an attempt to blot out the pain in her heart.

      It hurt so bad.

      When she raised a hand to her forehead, her fingers brushed a padding of gauze. “What—”

      “Leave it alone,” Luke said. Laying a restraining hand on her arm, he reached across her to press the button on the bed’s control panel.

      Although Cassie tried to summon resentment at the authority in his tone, her senses overrode her. His touch warmed her chilled skin. His familiar scent filled her nostrils, stirring old memories, old needs, old desires.

      The hall door swung open.

      “You’ve finally decided to rejoin us, have you?” said a cheery voice. The nurse touched Cassie’s wrist, checking for a pulse Cassie felt sure was elevated, then smoothed the bed-clothes. “How do you feel?”

      “Like I’ve been keelhauled.”

      “That’s to be expected. How’s the head?”

      “Sore. What happened?”

      “You had an accident.” The nurse shot a glance at Luke. “Hasn’t Detective Slater—”

      Confused, Cassie saw Luke shake his head, halting the nurse midsentence. A look of consternation crossed the woman’s face, but she recovered quickly. “You’ll be fine,” she assured Cassie with a comforting pat before leaving. “I’ll let the doctor know you’ve regained consciousness. He’ll want to see you right away.”

      Cassie scarcely registered the nurse’s departure over the sound of blood rushing in her ears. Every instinct screamed they were hiding something—something СКАЧАТЬ