Michael's Discovery (13 page)

A few minutes later, he heard Kelly’s laughter before he actually saw her. She emerged from an office
with a man dressed in carefully creased slacks, a designer dress shirt and a lab coat. He was the epitome of everything Michael wasn’t at the moment—suave, sure of himself and physically fit. Michael hated him on sight. Watching the way the man looked at Kelly set Michael’s teeth on edge. If he’d been in any shape to do it, Michael would have slugged the man on the spot just as a matter of principle.

Even as the desire to punch the guy’s lights out rocketed through him, he brought himself up short. He was jealous. He—a man who’d never had a jealous bone in his body—was feeling totally and thoroughly possessive about a woman he’d never even had a right to claim as his own. Well, hell. He was going to have to take a good long look at the reason for that, just not right now. Right now, he had to get across the room and protect his interests, even if he wasn’t entirely sure why it mattered so much.

Kelly noticed him before her companion did. She frowned when she realized that he was heading straight for her, even though she was in the midst of a private conversation.

“Bill, I’ve got a client scheduled, and he’s here now,” she said. “I’ll see you tonight at seven.”

The doctor glanced in Michael’s direction, gave him a distracted greeting, then turned his disgustingly toothy, white smile on Kelly. “I’ll look forward to it.”

“You didn’t waste much time, did you?” Michael said sourly when Kelly finally turned to him.

“I beg your pardon?”

“Big date with the doc tonight, or did I misunderstand?”

“Whether I have a date with Dr. Burroughs tonight
or not is none of your business,” she told him coldly. “Are you ready to get to work today?”

He scowled at the dismissal of his question, but decided not to make an issue of it right now. First things first. He needed to get back on his feet, so he could show the doctor a thing or two about which of them was the better man.

By the time she got through the tense therapy session with Michael, Kelly’s nerves were strained to the limit. It took everything in her not to go whining to Moira and ask that she recommend another therapist for him. The truth was, she didn’t want to give up the time with him. And she wanted to be the one there with Michael when he walked on his own again.

She prayed that a hot shower and fifteen minutes of rest would improve her mood before her date. She had known Bill Burroughs for a couple of years now. He frequently referred his orthopedic patients to her when they needed rehab. He was attractive, intelligent and on his way to being filthy rich, even in today’s fiscally tightfisted medical environment. He actually treated her as if she were a precious commodity. Most women would have been flattered, perhaps even charmed by his attentiveness and respect.

All Kelly could think about was the cantankerous man who’d kissed her till her toes curled, then apologized for making a joke out of it. Her teenage crush was turning into a full-blown case of grown-up lust, one she was determined to ignore if she and Michael were to go on working together. This date was supposed to help her accomplish that.

And it should have. It really should have. Bill pulled out all the stops. He took her to an elegant,
romantic restaurant, ordered the finest champagne, told her how beautiful she looked.

When the orchestra played, he held her in his arms as if she were more fragile than spun glass and more valuable than diamonds. She gazed up into his dark brown eyes and wished they were other eyes, crystal-blue eyes.

“You seem distracted,” Bill said. “Worried about one of your patients?”

“In a way,” she said, hoping he’d let the subject drop.

He gave her one of his brilliant smiles, but suddenly it seemed practiced and artificial, not like the blinding sunlight of one of Michael’s rare smiles.

“Do you want to talk about it? Maybe I can help.”

And he would, too. Bill was always generous with his time, always willing to offer treatment suggestions whenever she had doubts about the appropriate course for a particular patient. Now, though, she shook her head. “Thanks, that’s okay.”

He led the way back to their table, then studied her for a long time. “You need a break, Kelly. You’ve been working too hard.”

“No time,” she said.

“Make time,” he said firmly. “If there’s one thing I’ve had to learn, it’s that too much work winds up being counterproductive. You end up making bad decisions when you’re under stress.”

She heard what he was saying and knew he was right. Maybe she could use a break, even a week away might bring some perspective to the whole situation. And a week off from his therapy wouldn’t set Michael back that much, or if he insisted, Moira or someone else could fill in.

“I’ll think about it,” she promised Bill.

His gaze warmed. “Don’t think. Go with the flow. I could take a few days off and we could go someplace with warm beaches and tropical drinks. How does that sound?”

It was twenty degrees outside and snow was threatening. How did he think it sounded? If Michael had asked, she’d have been packing. As it was, she simply stared at Bill in shock. “You want me to go away with you?”

“Why not? It doesn’t have to be a big deal.”

Memories of Phil’s sleazy proposition rang in her head. Was she the kind of woman men expected to be easy? Why the heck was Michael the only one who ever showed any restraint around her?

She met Bill’s expectant gaze. “Call me old-fashioned, but to me it does sound like a big deal. We hardly know each other.”

“Then what better way to get to know each other than a few uninterrupted days together in some romantic setting?” he asked, clearly confident that he could overcome her objections.

“Sorry, I can’t,” she said flatly.

Unlike Phil, Bill took her refusal with a smile. “No problem,” he said, as easygoing as ever. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

She didn’t say it, but if tonight had proved nothing else, it was that she wasn’t even the tiniest bit interested in Bill Burroughs, despite all the superficial things they had in common. In fact, she had pretty much spent the entire evening feeling like a fraud.

Minutes later, she told him she thought it was time to be going. He accepted that, as well.

When he walked her to her door, she let him kiss
her, hoping that it would banish the memory of another kiss. Instead, it was a tepid reminder that real passion required more than simply locking lips.

“Thanks, Bill. I had a lovely time,” she said politely.

“So did I. We’ll do it again soon,” Bill said.

Kelly shook her head. “I’m sorry, Bill. You’re a great guy, but…” Her words faltered.

Bill regarded her knowingly. “But your heart belongs to somebody else. I spent this whole evening hoping I was wrong about that. But it’s the man I met at the clinic this morning, isn’t it? I could sense that there was more going on there. He looked as if he’d like to beat me to a pulp for talking to you.”

She regarded him with surprise. She hadn’t expected him to see her feelings so clearly when she was still grappling with the truth herself. As for his assessment of Michael’s feelings, she’d missed that completely.

“You’re an intuitive man. My heart does belong to someone else.” She saw no need to confirm that it was Michael. “I think it always has. I’m sorry for wasting your time. You planned such a lovely evening. I didn’t deserve it.”

Bill leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek. “Nonsense. Don’t be sorry. Spending an evening with you could never be a waste of time. Whoever he is, he’s a lucky guy. And if things don’t work out, give me a call. I’d like another chance. That tropical beach will still be there.”

After she’d gone inside and settled into a warm bath filled with fragrant bubbles, Kelly allowed herself to think about Bill’s words. She wondered if Mi
chael would consider himself lucky if he knew how she felt.

As hard as she was trying—as hard as they both were working—she could never give him the one thing he clearly wanted. Oh, she would get him walking again. No question about that, given the progress they were already making.

But, even though they mostly avoided the subject, they both knew his career with the SEALs was over and he was a long way from making peace with that. She couldn’t help thinking that he’d consider her love to be little more than second prize.

S
aturday had been the longest damn night of Michael’s life. He’d refused several offers of company and spent the entire evening brooding over what Kelly and her date might be up to. The mere fact that she even
had
a date was annoying. Granted, things between the two of them were a little uncertain, but all that heat had to mean something. How could he have misread the signals between them so badly? Why the hell had she felt the need to take off with that pretty-boy doctor? What did he have to offer that Michael didn’t, besides a body on which all the parts presumably worked?

Just thinking about what the two of them could be up to soured his mood. His bad temper didn’t improve on Sunday or Monday. In fact, by the time he got to the rehab center on Tuesday morning, he was half out of his mind with imagining the worst—that she’d
gone and fallen head over heels in love with that annoying, expensively dressed jerk of a doctor. He wasn’t prepared to examine why that seemed to matter so blasted much to him.

As Kelly approached him, Michael studied her face, looking for evidence that something had changed. She looked a little wary, a little pensive, but other than that, he couldn’t read anything into her expression. When she finally met his gaze, she managed to muster an unenthusiastic smile, then went into what he’d come to recognize as her crisp, no-nonsense professional mode.

“I thought we’d try getting you out of that chair today,” she chirped cheerfully. “Are you game?”

Michael debated calling her on the phony attitude, but her plan for the day caught his attention. “I’ve been getting out of the chair,” he pointed out.

She gestured toward the parallel bars where he’d first seen Jennifer struggling to walk. Hope—along with something that felt a whole lot like panic—swept through him.

“You want me to walk?” he asked incredulously.

She did smile at that. “Hasn’t that been the idea all along? I thought you were chomping at the bit to get back on your feet. I think you’re strong enough now. Your arm and shoulder muscles were already in great shape. The weight work has strengthened your leg muscles the last couple of weeks. It’s time to start standing on your own two feet again, Michael. I’m not expecting you to run a marathon. Standing up for a few minutes to put some real weight on that leg will be good enough.”

“But…” The protest died on his lips. This was
what he wanted, maybe too much. What if he stood up and fell flat on his face?

“You’re not going to fall,” Kelly reassured him, as if he’d voiced the fear aloud. “You’ll have the bars to hold on to and I’ll be there.”

Falling into her arms was not an option. He’d never survive the humiliation of it. He weighed that against the cowardice implied by not trying at all. It was no contest. He had to do this, and maybe it was better that she’d taken him totally by surprise. He hadn’t had to spend the whole weekend worrying about it.

Totally focused now, he met her gaze evenly and gave her a curt nod. “Let’s do it.”

She guided his chair to the bars, then placed herself between them and in front of him. “Want some help getting out of the chair?”

“No,” he said tersely. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it on his own. He needed to learn to rely on himself again, the way he once had without giving it a second thought.

Kelly shrugged off his tone and gestured for him to get up on his own.

Michael set the brake on the chair, then reached for the bars and pulled himself up, grateful for the years of SEAL training that had, indeed, kept his shoulders and arms powerful. But once he was upright between the bars, his legs felt as wobbly as a newborn’s, despite all the work they’d been doing to strengthen the muscles.

“Just take a minute and steady yourself,” Kelly said quietly. “Remember this isn’t some sort of test on which you’re going to be graded. A step or two will be enough. Let’s see how that injured leg takes to having some weight put on it.”

Michael held himself upright by sheer will, terrified to put any weight at all on his bum leg. What if the surgeries and the pins weren’t going to be enough, after all? What if the bones hadn’t healed sufficiently? What if he crumpled to the floor right here? He could tolerate whatever pain there might be, but not the disappointment of failing, especially in front of Kelly.

But what if he didn’t fail at all? He clung to that thought as he sucked in a deep breath and put his foot down gingerly. Slowly he began to put a little weight on it. To his relief, nothing immediately snapped in two. His bones and the various pieces of hardware the doctors had installed were apparently strong enough to keep him upright, at least. He added a little more weight until he was evenly balanced on both feet. It was an odd sensation, scary and exhilarating at the same time. Who would have thought that just standing up would give him such a sense of accomplishment, after the thousands of far more strenuous exertions to which he’d subjected his body?

Standing there, clinging to the bars with a white-knuckled grip, he ventured a glance at Kelly. Seeing her from this perspective—the way a man ought to be able to look a woman straight in the eye—made him want to drag her straight into his arms, but he forced the wistful thought aside.

“Looking good,” Kelly said, giving him an encouraging smile. She backed up a step. “Now come here.”

He met her gaze. “What’s the incentive?” he asked, a deliberate dare in his voice.

One brow arched. “Walking again’s not enough?” she asked.

“I was thinking such a momentous stride forward in our therapy ought to at least net me a kiss.”

She frowned at that. “Take the step, then we’ll talk about it.”

“A peck on the cheek, then,” he coaxed, enjoying the patches of color blooming on her face. He studied her with a considering look. “What’s the harm, unless you and the good doctor are now an item?”

Her cheeks paled. “Leave Dr. Burroughs out of this.”

Michael promptly took heart. “Bad date?” he inquired sympathetically. “I could have told you that. The guy is obviously too self-absorbed to be good company.”

Kelly scowled at him. “I don’t know how you came up with that,” she snapped. “He was very good company. And why are we talking about him at all? You’re supposed to be concentrating on taking that first step.”

“Frankly, right this second, I’m finding this conversation a whole lot more fascinating,” he said. “Something tells me you didn’t have a good time.”

“And you find that something to gloat about?”

“No, I merely find it interesting. Tell me, how did it go?”

Her scowl deepened. “Why are you pushing this? My date is none of your business.”

“That’s not the way I see it,” Michael told her.

She gave him an impatient look. “I do.”

“Come on, Kelly. I think I have a right to know if the woman who’s been willing to risk her professional reputation to kiss me has found some other man she’d prefer to spend her free time with.” He gave her a
considering look. “Well, have you? Are you planning on spending more evenings with the preppy doctor?”

“If you must know, the answer is no. I won’t be seeing Dr. Burroughs again.”

He grinned, not even trying to hide his relief. “Glad to hear it. Does that mean I get my kiss?”

Suddenly the ice in her eyes seemed to melt. She gave him one of her more irrepressible grins. “If you can catch me,” she said, backing up another step, then one more for good measure.

Michael’s grin spread. “Sweetheart, don’t you know you should never dare a SEAL?” If it took every last ounce of strength he possessed, he was going to meet her challenge. He’d been obsessing about kissing her all night long. He wasn’t about to lose his chance now.

The first step was awkward and painful. It was impossible to imagine that walking, running and mountain-climbing had once been second nature to him. Sweat beaded on his brow and the muscles in his arms quivered with the tension of holding himself upright.

Thank God, he had long legs. He could reach her in one more stride. He took that step thanks to sheer grit and determination. As he steadied himself, he closed one hand over hers where it rested on the bar and gazed deep into her eyes.

“Pay up,” he said softly.

There was no mistaking the heat that flared in her eyes as she lifted herself on tiptoe and brushed a quick, disappointing kiss across his lips.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” he whispered against her mouth, leaning heavily against one bar, while he slipped an arm around her waist and held her tight.
“I caught you fair and square. Now, pay up with a kiss that means something.”

He heard her breath hitch, felt the heat radiating from her as she sighed and leaned into him, her breasts soft against his chest, her lips parted under his.

“Better,” he murmured, as he plunged his tongue deep inside to taste her…to claim her.

When they were both breathing hard, he released her, then realized that the kiss had drained him of every last ounce of strength. Cursing his weakness, he struggled to turn himself around and make his way back to his wheelchair, angrily brushing off Kelly’s offers of assistance.

Only after he was safely seated again did he allow himself to meet her gaze. To his amazement, she was grinning broadly.

“What?” he growled, feeling like a toddler who’d taken his first brave step, only to land solidly on his backside.

She regarded him as if he were crazy to have to ask. “You walked, Michael! You did it!”

As the enormity of that sank in, his irritation faded and a grin began to spread across his face. “By God, I did, didn’t I?” He’d felt less triumphant after surviving a dangerous mission. He met Kelly’s gaze. “If I could dance you around the room, I would.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” she said. “Something tells me it won’t be long.”

Meeting her gaze, wanting her, Michael knew that no matter when it happened, it wouldn’t be nearly soon enough.

Those first couple of faltering steps could be either the beginning of something or the end, Michael con
cluded when he had time to himself later that night. In a few weeks, Kelly would start cutting back on his therapy, leaving him to his own devices while she moved on to use her considerable skill with another patient who needed her more. As badly as he wanted to feel whole and able-bodied again, the prospect of losing Kelly forever was out of the question. He didn’t know why he was so sure of that, but he was.

Whatever the pace of his recovery from here on out, he was going to have to make damn sure that Kelly stayed in his life, at least until he could figure out the hold she seemed to have over him. There would be no more little adventures for her with the Dr. Burroughses of the world. He wanted to be the one who occupied her thoughts and her time.

For a man who’d spent much of his life being totally driven and goal-oriented, this was just one more challenge to be met. Like any SEAL mission he’d ever planned and executed, it was a matter of logistics and precision. He intended to start with his Thursday therapy session, since that was the one time he could be guaranteed that she wouldn’t bail on him. He was going to dazzle her with his progress, then set out to capture her heart.

For the forty-eight hours between sessions, he practiced standing until he could remain upright and steady without grabbing on to the nearest stable object to break an impending fall. By the time night came, his muscles ached from the strain and his leg was giving him fits, but it was a small price to pay.

On Thursday he wheeled himself into the rehab center with a renewed sense of confidence and purpose. Kelly seemed to sense the change in attitude, because she studied him with a quizzical expression
as he hefted himself out of the chair and onto the parallel bars without being asked.

“I gather you’re ready to start,” she said, a spark of amusement in her eyes.

“I am,” he said firmly. “Back up.”

She hesitated. “I think it’s better if I stay here.”

He scowled until she finally shrugged and backed away, leaving nothing to impede him should he actually be able to manage to walk the entire length of the parallel bars. Gritting his teeth, Michael took the first step. It was actually easier than it had been at his apartment without any solid support to cling to. His confidence grew with the second step and then the third.

“Michael, don’t push too hard,” Kelly warned as he kept coming. “You don’t want another injury now.”

“I’m not going to fall,” he insisted, his voice tight as he tried to gauge the remaining steps. Four, maybe. Three, if he could lengthen his stride to something better than these shuffling half steps. He sighed. Maybe he’d better settle for baby steps, as exasperating as that was. It was better than falling flat on his butt at her feet.

He noted that despite her warning, she hadn’t rushed forward to cut him off, but she was holding her breath.

“You know, if you don’t let out that breath you’re holding, you’re going to turn blue,” he admonished lightly.

She sighed. “Sorry. I’m just afraid you’re moving too fast.”

He snorted at that. “I’ve seen snails move faster.”

“You know what I mean, Michael.”

All the while they bickered over whether or not he was overexerting himself, he kept moving forward with his awkward, shuffling gait. And then he was there, toe-to-toe with her, close enough to see the spark of admiration in her eyes, despite the admonitions tripping from her lips.

His legs were protesting the strain he’d put on them. His powerful arms were the only things keeping him upright, which meant he had to get through this next part in a hurry. Still standing, he met her gaze.

“Have dinner with me tomorrow night,” he suggested.

She blinked rapidly. “What?”

“It’s not a difficult concept. I asked you to have dinner with me.”

“Why?”

He grinned at her reaction. “The usual reasons. Man meets woman. Man is attracted to woman. He asks her on a date. That is how it goes, isn’t it? I’m not that much out of touch.” He shrugged, trying not to make too much out of it. “Besides, I think we’re past due for a celebration. You certainly deserve one for putting up with me all this time.”