Heroes (Hollywood Heartthrobs #1) (9 page)

          Excusing
himself to the bathroom, he splashed his face and neck with cool water, then
looked into the mirror. What the hell? He had never felt like this before,
certainly not the third day he knew a woman. Trying to check his emotions (and
other things), he realized it wasn’t just a physical attraction. Yes, he wanted
her. He wanted to know her in the most carnal sense of the word. He wanted to
rip that thin robe off her and explore every part of that strong, supple body
of hers. But it was more than that. He wanted to hold her in his arms afterward
for as long as she would let him. He wanted to take care of her, to protect
her. Not that she needed protecting, as she could obviously look after herself,
but, he wanted to be there for her. She was strong, and brave, and capable, and
yet still so open, honest, and giving. All he wanted was to support her just
the way she was. Glancing back up at the mirror, the terrifying realization was
suddenly there as though he’d known it from the first moment she hit him with
the clipboard. He was falling in love with her.

You’re
an idiot, said a small, cynical voice in his head. How could you fall in love
with her? You don’t even know her. She doesn’t even know herself! Neither one
of you know her name, where she’s from, what she does. You took all of that
away from her. You did this to her.

He
couldn’t deny the truth of it. This was all his fault, and she still didn’t
even know it. She still believed he had saved her, not the other way around.
She had no idea he had taken everything away from her. But he knew. So I’ll
just have to be the one to help her get it back, he thought defiantly.

          Jane got a
glass of water while Dean was in the bathroom. She tried to squash the grin
from her face, but she couldn’t. Just his presence was such a comfort. Relaxing
next to him, with the warm, masculine scent of him filling her senses. His
smell made her think of a shady forest on a hot summer day. She wanted him to
come back, to sit next to her again. She was still so sure she would make it
out of this emptiness in her mind, but, until then, he was her safe harbor, and
she was grateful. She just prayed he didn’t find her a burden. That she
couldn’t bear.

          They settled
back down on the bed to finish the movie, reveling in the physical closeness of
the other. Before she hit play, Jane turned to Dean, his face just inches from
hers.

          “By the way,
you were right. This was meant to be seen. Thank you for bringing it, and I’m
glad you’re here to watch it with me,” she said, with that heart-rending
smile. 

          “I wouldn’t
miss it for the world,” he answered. Damn, how was she able to make him say so
much more than he intended? But he meant it. God did he mean it. Jane resumed
the movie. Again, he had to marvel at how she engaged with the story. She
seemed utterly enamored with the poetry of it, watching in obvious fascination.
Then came the famous speech before the battle of Agincourt, and everything
changed.

          The St.
Crispin’s Day speech, delivered by King Henry to his troops shortly before the
decisive battle against a larger and better-supplied French force, is one of
the most famous in all of Shakespeare’s works. Dean had committed it to memory
after watching that first fateful production in high school, and had used it as
an audition piece in younger days. He knew every word by heart.

Jane
was riveted by the performance, so much so her mouth actually hung open
listening. She leaned forward, as if to catch the words faster as the lines
flowed on. About two-thirds of the way through the speech, Dean thought he
heard her whisper. The line ran, “
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his
scars/ And say ‘These wounds I had on Crispin’s Day
.’” He could have sworn
he heard Jane whisper those last few words. But then he thought he must be
mistaken. It was a trick of the audio, it had to be. But a few lines later he
was sure. Jane was whispering the words! The actor ran on, and Jane along with
him. Not repeating him, but reciting with him! “
Then shall our names/
Familiar in his mouth as household words/ Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter…
”
Dean watched her, silent as not to interrupt and break the spell. She stalled
for a line or two, but came right back. “
We few, we happy few, we band of
brothers/ For he today that sheds his blood with me/ Shall be my brother...
”
Her eyes were shining with tears as she whispered, “
And gentlemen in England
now a-bed/ Shall think themselves accurs’d they were not here/ And hold their
manhoods cheap whilst any speaks/ That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s Day
.”
He stopped the film to the sound of extras cheering fervently.

          “Jane?” he
whispered, breathless.

          She looked
over at him as though coming out of a trance. “Dean, I…” Her voice trailed off.
Two tears slipped from her lashes and down her cheek. She wiped them away
quickly, looking down. She took a moment to compose herself. He was absolutely
speechless. She finally met his eye. “I think I like this play.” Her eyes still
shined with tears, but a smile broke across her face like a brilliant rainbow
after a devastating storm.

He
couldn’t hold back his joy. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her
close, nearly knocking the computer to the floor. He could feel her start to
shake from laughter. He fought against the stinging in his eyes. He thought he
could spend forever in this moment.

          She just let
him hold her, happy to be in his arms as she steadied herself. Finally she
pulled away gently, reaching for a tissue to wipe her eyes. Dean was still
silent, a look on his face of mingled joy and concern.

          “Sorry, I
didn’t mean to get so emotional,” she said, sheepishly. “I was just so excited
to find something that actually felt familiar.”

          “God, Jane,
don’t apologize! I’m so happy about it! Do you remember anything else? Should
we finish the movie? How can I help you?” He said, seemingly without pausing
for breath.

          She grinned
in response. “Whoa now, slow down, sport. At this moment I’m not getting
anything else in terms of recalling memories. But I also I didn’t know I knew
that speech until I heard it. And I can’t say with any certainty that I’ll know
much more. From the time the movie started something felt oddly familiar about
it, but it didn’t fall into place until that speech. Perhaps that’s the part I
know best? Anyway, I expect the rest will at least feel familiar, but I
couldn’t say whether I’ll be able to recite anything else.”

          “So no big
moment where your whole life flashes before your eyes?” Dean asked, trying to
hide his hope in a flippant tone.

          “Tragically
no. But you understand what this means, don’t you?”

          “What’s
that?”

          Jane was
still smiling, but her eyes took on a steely expression. “It means the doctor
was right about the damage not being permanent. I still have my memory, I just
can’t seem to access it, yet.” She looked at Dean with determination. “It means
I can get back to who I am. I can and I will.”

          Dean put a
hand comfortingly on her shoulder, and looked directly into her eyes. “I don’t
doubt you for a second.”

          “Thanks,
Dean.” She paused. “Your confidence means a lot to me.” Dean felt like his
heart was swelling in his chest. “So, on to battle?” Jane asked, with a pointed
glance at the screen.

          They settled
themselves back down for the conclusion of the film. Dean draped his arm around
Jane’s shoulders. It felt so natural, he couldn’t resist the chance to hold
her. Jane welled up with tears again after the battle, and Dean heard her give
the tiniest sniffle. If he had his way, she would only ever cry for a film
again, he thought wildly. It was amazing. Jane wasn’t an overly emotional
woman; her ability to take her current condition in stride was proof of that.
Yet, she cried over the fate of these characters. She was never weak, but also
never closed off. Incredibly strong, but completely open to feeling. Dean was
entranced.

          The film
finally ended, but neither seemed to want to move. Jane closed the lid of the
laptop, setting it aside. “Thank you again, Dean, that was… really
enlightening,” she said with a smile.

“My
pleasure,” he answered.

She
looked up into those impossibly beautiful blue eyes and wanted nothing more
than to reach up and kiss his soft, inviting lips. She held the moment for some
heartbeats before letting it break. Shaking sense into herself, she couldn’t
possibly be so forward. She settled instead for an affectionate pat on his leg
before moving up off the bed.

          Her touch
made him feel like he could burst into flames. As she got up off the bed, he
watched the graceful movements of her legs, topped by the most perfectly shaped
ass he had ever seen. The mind of a teacher, the body of a dancer, and the soul
of a hero, he thought.

          “So, now that
I’ve enlightened you, what do we do now?” Dean asked.

          She didn’t
want him to leave, and raced for an excuse. It didn’t take her long. “Actually,
would you like to walk down to the volunteer’s library? It’s just on the second
floor. I was going to drop off the books I’ve finished, and I would love your
thoughts on which ones I should carry off next. You obviously have excellent
taste,” she said playfully.

          “I would love
that.”

          One of the
nurses had given Jane a pair of scrubs pants. She slipped them on, along with a
pair of hospital-issue slippers, but left just the robe for a top. She picked
up four volumes from the stack on the table and settled them in the crook of
her good right arm, but she didn’t protest when Dean took them to carry for
her. God, he felt like he was in high school again. He followed her down the
hallway to the stairs, and finally along a corridor to a room for volunteers.
The library was really just a single bookshelf full of a hodgepodge of items
donated to the hospital or left behind by former patients and family. Dean
didn’t want to admit to her that he hadn’t read most of them, but he spotted a
few he thought she might enjoy.

          “Try this
one,” he said, pulling
Jane Eyre
from the shelf. “You seem to like
classics.”

          “Favorite of
yours?” she asked suspiciously, noting the decidedly feminine imagery on the
cover.

          “Let’s just
say I think you’ll like it. The hero is something special.”

          Jane was
reading the back cover now. “So am I expected to fall for the brooding master
of the house, Mr. Rochester?”

          Dean smiled,
but it was a smile with a hint of sadness. “Rochester isn’t the hero. Jane is.
Rochester is the one in need of rescuing.”

          Jane noticed
the darkening expression on Dean’s face, but she couldn’t penetrate its
meaning. She took the book without further comment. They selected two other
books and headed back up the corridor. For the most part the corridor only
looked in on rooms to either side, but at the end near the stairs was a large
window.

          “It’s a
beautiful day out there,” Dean observed. “Why don’t we take these outside?”
That sounded like a great idea to Jane. “Come on, I think I saw patients going
out this way,” Dean said, taking her hand as he led her to the first floor. His
hand felt large and strong around hers, but his touch was gentle. She thought
she could have followed his lead anywhere.

          The back of
the hospital looked out onto a grassy lawn, and on such a fine day there were
more than a few patients and visitors out enjoying the sunshine. There were
benches all around the lawn, but none were empty.

          “We can just
sit out on the grass,” she offered, thrilled to be out in the fresh air. Dean
smiled, leading out to the center of the lawn, farthest from any other groups.
Before Jane sat down, Dean unzipped his hooded sweatshirt. He took it off,
revealing a tank top and some sharply defined muscles, and spread the shirt
open on the ground. “You don’t have to do that, you’ll get grass stains on your
shirt,” she said, secretly praying he wouldn’t put it back on. It was the most
she had seen of his body, and didn’t want to have to give up such a feast for
the eyes.

          Dean
shrugged, and gestured for her to sit. They sat out on the grass, reading and
reveling in the sunshine. Jane laid down on her back, knees in the air,
enjoying the sun on her face. With the sunlight glinting off her hair and a
contented smile on her face, Dean thought he’d never seen anything more
beautiful. They could have stayed there all day if the growling in Dean’s
stomach hadn’t become loud enough for Jane to hear.

          “You sound
starved, we should go back inside,” Jane said, laying a hand on his bicep.

          Dean had to
admit he was hungry. Breakfast at Nate’s seemed forever ago. They headed back
to Jane’s room, only to find that lunch had apparently been forever ago as
well. Cold chicken soup and browning apple slices sat on a tray on the table.

          “Bummer,”
Jane said, bravely dipping her spoon into the unappetizing soup. “Guess that’s
what I get for wandering off. Oh well, it was worth it to be outside.”