Crashing Into Tess (26 page)

A cowboy stood in the corner; tall, broad-chested, and
way too handsome, with friendly amber eyes and curly
brown hair.
Ty McGreer? Shit! Ty McGreer!

They’d met at a frat party in college. After a few drinks,
she hadn’t been able to keep her hands off him. He stood
there, in a plaid shirt and dark Levi's, still exuding the same
male hotness that had wreaked havoc with her self-control
years before.
It was a frat party, he doesn’t remember,
Lindsay told
herself. But the look on his face said maybe he did.
Uh-oh.

Ty shook his head. “I don’t, but my cousin does, and he
visited last weekend. He’s not much of a rider, so I give him
a bucket of balls. He’s supposed to practice towards the
corn fields. Apparently, his aim was off. A ball must have
made it into the bull pasture.”

“Apparently so,” Lindsay agreed, arching an eyebrow.
“You might look for another, Ty. In my experience, balls in
bull pastures usually come in pairs.”

A hot charge jolted down her spine as he laughed at her
joke, his white teeth bright against a tan face.
That was
stupid, Lindsay. It’s been way too long since you’ve gotten properly
laid, but your clients don’t need to know it.

Red-faced, she pivoted to her helper.“Let’s get an IV in
this little guy, Sam, and get him on the table.” She turned
back to Ty. “This won’t take long. We’ll have him right as
rain in no time, Mr. McGreer.”

The hot cowboy cleared his throat. “Um, Dr. Robbins?
I was thinkin’ about the National Angus Show for this little
guy as a three year old. He’s got the breeding to take the
title. How much of a scar will there be?”

Lindsay was taking latex gloves, size small, from the box
on the aluminum shelf. Snapping them on, she smiled at
him. “I’ll be extra careful with the sutures, Mr. McGreer. In
six months, the scar will be barely visible. I doubt you’ll be
able to find it in a year’s time.”

“Great.” Ty grinned down at her. “Thanks for that. I’m
not usually much on appearances, but I had semen flown
down from Wyoming this year from an award winning bull,
and my cows threw some fine bull calves. I’ve waited a long
time for this little guy.”

“Gotcha,” Lindsay said, turning away to hide a surge
of annoyance.
As I recall you ARE big on appearances, Ty
McGreer. The blonde cheerleader you dropped me for was a knockout.
Checking the bull calf over carefully, she couldn’t help
remembering how amazing Ty’s full, soft, and incredibly
hot lips had felt, pressed against hers.

Sam led the little guy to the hydraulic table. The IV
sedation was taking effect; the bull’s head drooped. Pointing
to the glass window, Lindsay told Ty, “The viewing room’s
out there, Mr. McGreer. You’re free to watch,” then
dropped her mask over her mouth.

Ty smiled as he backed out of the room. “I’m sure you
know what you’re doing. It’s been a long day. I’ll just go get
a beer.”

As he turned into the hallway, she caught a glimpse of
his butt and thighs, firm beneath Levi’s. Lindsay shut her
eyes, closing the door firmly.
This isn’t helping my concentration
any.

The surgery table was lifting hydraulically, Sam was
holding a tray for her, and the little bull was now
unconscious. Back in her comfort zone, Lindsay picked up
the scalpel. Ty McGreer was not what she needed right
now.

Lady Eva Louise Alexandra Suzette Fleurinda
LaVigne tucked a stray ginger red curl behind a
diamond-tipped ear, slicked a bit of gloss on her lips,
popped dark glasses over her eyes, slipped her hands
into tan driving gloves, took up the handle of her tugalong and stepped out of her room.

Eva looked up. From his height of six foot- seven,
Dr. Luke Omega’s reassuring eyes glinted silver-blue.
“As I’ll ever be,” she answered.

Giving her a smile of encouragement, he started
down the hall towing the largest of Eva’s large Vuitton
cases. Her heels tapped quickly behind him, past the
reception desk. She lifted a gloved hand. “Bye, Angel.”

“Good luck out there,” Angel called, passing Eva
one last patient smile.
One last smile. One last time. These people had
become good friends.
What will I do without them?
Dr. Luke glanced up at the monitor. “The wolves
are circling,” he warned, slipping dark frames over his
own eyes.
Eva took a deep breath. “Could it be any other
way?” She hadn’t worn her vintage Chanel suit for
nothing.
The steel and glass door slid open. Flashes began
to erupt as they made their way to the limo her father
had sent. “Over here, Lady Eva!”, “Look this way,
Stash!”.
Eva posed for a few quick candids while the
attendant loaded her bags in the trunk. Her father’s
driver knew to stay at the wheel. Luke had the car
door open for her. At his nod, Eva skirted towards the
car, calling brightly, “That’s all for today, boys!”
Luke kissed her cheek before helping her in, and
she made sure it lasted.
One last shot for the cameras.
“Good Luck,” he whispered, his lips close to her
red curls.
“I’ll need it,” Eva said, squeezing his arm.
He shut the car door, the locks clicked, and she
settled back onto the cushioned seat, giving the
paparazzi a last wave as her car slid past the discreet
“Betty Ford Clinic” sign, now surrounded by hyacinths
and tulips.
When I got here, those flowers were evergreens,
dotted with twinkle lights . . . Drying out is too much
work. I don’t want to have to do it again.
The tinted window behind the front seat dropped
slightly. “Good to see you, Lady Eva.”
“Hi, Frank. Are you taking me to Daddy’s?”
“Lauren is there by herself now, and she’s been. . .
Well, you know Lauren.”
“Yes,”Evaansweredtartly.“Ido,unfortunately.
Daddy’s out again, is he?”
Frank’s eyes darted in the rear view. “Yes’m.”
“Well, it won’t take him long to find wife number
seven,” she said drily. “No one liked Lauren, anyway.
She was the worst of a bad lot.”
“They say seven is a lucky number,” Frank replied.
“They were all supposed to be lucky numbers,
Frank. Trouble is, Daddy can’t tell a lucky number
from a hot number.”
“How’syourMum?”
“Holding her own thanks. Mother’s been in
remission since the New Year, just before I checked in
at Betty. The cancer seems to be gone now, thank
God..”
“That’s real good news, m’lady, real good news.”
“Yes, Frank. Yes, it is.”
Eva’s cell bleeped with a text from Esme.
“How’d it
go?”
Her fingers quickly tapped a response.
“I’m outta
there. That’s what counts. For the last time.”
“Yousaidthatthreevisitsago.”
“Esme,yoursupposedtobesupportive,
remember? You promised Luke!”
“TherewasalotthatIpromisedLuke.Orwanted
to.”
“Naughty. You married-early types are all alike.”
“Hornyashell?Yeah.”
“How’sTank?”
“Brilliantasever.Makingmoneyhandoverfist.
You know Texas oilmen.”
“Nostoppingthem.CamillatoldMumthey’re
having solar panels put on at Sandringham.”
“ThatdamnCharles.”
“He’satrendsetter.Alltheroyalswillbedoingit,
soon. Better warn Tank about his futures!”
“The baby’s crying, and nanny’s exhausted, Ev. I
gotta go. Take it easy.”
“Always.Loveyou.”
“Me,too.”
Eva glanced out the window, distracting herself
with the spring landscape. Frank cleared his throat.
“Well, Lady Eva?”
“Right, Frank, you need to know where to dump
me off. Let’s see, Daddy’s is off limits, Mum is in
London, Eva’s tied up with the baby in Texas . . . “
“I’m to take you to the airport,” he said crisply. She
caught his glance in the rear view.
Frank has news I’m
not going to like.

“Oh, I’m to visit Mother, then?” Eva offered
breezily, tugging at her gloves.
“Ah, not exactly.”
“Frank, what the hell is going on?”
Her father’s driver cleared his throat again.
“Oh, Frank, the goddamn IRS caught up with
Daddy again, didn’t they? So what, he’s visiting Reno
on some forsaken island in the Caribbean?”
Frank coughed. “That’s about it, Lady Eva.”
Eva crossed her palms in her lap and sighed.
“Okay, Frank. Where am I off too?”
“You’ll know in a moment. This was at the office
with your name on it when I fetched the car.” Frank
lifted a white gloved hand and passed an envelope
through the space in the glass.
Pursing her lips, Eva lifted the flap of the envelope,
unfolding a letter on her father’s stationary. Three
hundred dollar bills and a plane ticket spilled into her
lap as she read the words he’d penned in Cross ink.
30 March, 2014, Los Angeles
Eva,
I’mquiteatalossrightnow,cherie.You’llbe
finishing up at Betty in two weeks, but all the
accounts in the States will have been frozen by then.
I’ve taken care of your plane ticket and tucked a bit
in for travel fare as well, but you’ll have to make do
with the trust in Boston for the time. You’ll find your
grandmother put plenty aside for upkeep on
Cleopatra, it’s the groceries and utility bill you’ll have
to chew the bone on. Well, there it is~ Nothing in the
till for champagne. Just as well, I suppose~The
banker on Egypt Island is your man, he’s got a direct
line to Boston.
AuRevoir,mapetitemiserable!
Papa

Lady Eva remembered her breathing. Calmly, she
inhaled. Exhaling as slowly as possible, Eva folded the
letter, slipped it back into its envelope, and tucked it,
the plane ticket and the hundred dollar bills carefully
into her purse.
One hundred. Two hundred. Three
hundred. Won’t get me far.

When she’d finished with that, she inhaled, but
there was nothing to do but scream.
Egypt Island?
“Egypt Island? EGYPT ISLAND! FRANK, What
was he THINKING?”
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