Somewhere in His Arms (33 page)

             
She knew she shouldn’t, but she couldn’t help but click through several evening news broadcasts. Lucy knew what she was looking for and was relieved when there was no new information on Reese. There was a gossip show prattling on about the usual useless parade of overpaid celebrities. Lucy was about to click it off when Vivian’s name came up.

             
“Guess who’s been replaced? That’s right,”
the host babbled with glee
, “Miss Vivian’s handsome doctor is no more! Our sources reveal that the gorgeous blonde kicked her doc to the curb after meeting up with handsome actor Draco Benedict at the Emmy after-party and my sources reveal they couldn’t keep their hands off each other. They slunk off to a bathroom together and abandoned their significant others for a whole hour! I wonder what those two were up to?”

             
Lucy clicked it off in disgust and changed the channel. Finally, a good movie! She sat feeling quite sorry for herself and commiserating with Gene Tierney over Rex Harrison in
The Ghost and Mrs. Muir.
She swiped at her eyes with the edge of the afghan and wondered if she shouldn’t go in and ask Alec what was his problem.

             
She dozed on the sofa for a few hours before awakening to the caterwauling of
The Sound of Music.
Not that she had anything against Julie Andrews, but Lucy had always found the movie too saccharine for her taste.

             
It was nearly ten. Lucy clicked off the TV and turned off all the lights, except the one in the kitchen. Then she took a long hot shower. As she combed her hair, she studied her reflection and the scars that didn’t look as if they would heal any time soon. Though the bruising had long since faded, the jagged scar on her forehead would likely have to be hidden with globs of makeup or bangs. She never liked makeup and Lucy wasn’t eager to go under the knife again, so bangs it would probably be if she ever got out of the house.

             
She towel-dried her hair and plaited it into two tidy braids. Then she rubbed some scented lotion into her skin, put on a pair of lacy panties, and pulled on her new nightgown. She flung the towels into the hamper and brushed her teeth. Then it was off for another lonely night without her husband.

             
Lucy padded quietly through the darkened cottage, feeling oddly bereft without Alec. She found herself in front of his door and knocked timidly. “Alec…?” she asked in a trembling voice. “Are you all right?”

             
She put her ear to the door. For a moment, she thought she heard something. Lucy knocked again. “Alec?”

             
“Go away!”
he shouted.

             
“What?”

             
“Go away and leave me alone, woman!”

             
“Woman,
is it now?” she snapped. “I thought I was your darling wife!”

             
“For God’s sake woman, go to bed!”

             
Lucy reached down and tried the knob. It was locked! How dare he lock her out! She knocked insistently, growing frustrated with his nonsense. “English, open this door!” she demanded angrily. “Did I do something wrong?”

             
He groaned in frustration. “I’m tired, woman! Leave
me
alone and go to sleep!”

             
“You’re
tired!” she shouted in frustration. Lucy paused in the hall for a brief while she thought it out. Then she whirled about and marched into the kitchen. She ransacked the drawers looking for something that would serve as a proper lock-picking device. Finally she found a flat-head screwdriver and a steel crochet hook in a utility drawer.

             
She marched back with all the determination of a scorned wife and jimmied the lock, nearly slicing her hand off in the process. The knob turned easily and she flung the door open, wanting her husband to know exactly whom he was dealing with.

             
The room was dark save for a sliver of moonlight that sliced through the blinds and settled on the wall above Alec’s head. “Alec? Where are you?”

             
Her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness and she could see him outlined beneath the quilt. He’d gone and pulled the whole thing over his head. She didn’t know how he was able to breathe under there. “Alec would you
please
tell me what this is all about?”

             
When he didn’t answer, she strode over to the bed and yanked the quilt off. “Well?”

             
“Hell and damnation woman!” he growled. “Can’t a man get some sleep?”

             
“Not when they’re pouting,” she answered brightly. “What’s up, O Husband of mine?”

             
Alec groaned in frustration. Why couldn’t she just leave it be? He was already feeling like a heel, why’d she have to rub salt on the wound as well? He snatched the pillow and covered his face with it. “Go away!”

             
Lucy flicked on the desk lamp and approached the bed. “I don’t think so,” she said slowly. “Why don’t you explain yourself? I miss you!”

             
“Don’t!” he said in an anguished voice. “It should be obvious!”

             
“What
are
you going on about? Did I do something wrong?”

             
He sighed through the pillow. “It’s not you, it’s me!”

             
“Please!” she shot back in annoyance. “I’ve heard that and then some. Try again!”

             
“Dammit, woman!” he groaned in frustration and tore off the pillow. “I-I’m sorry I… fucked you in the shower!” he blurted with some embarrassment and turned a million shades of red. He replaced the pillow and expected that to be the end to it.

             
Lucy blinked in disbelief and struggled with the impulse to collapse on the floor in a fit of hysterical laughter. But she held her tongue. “I think there’s an app for that!” she quipped, and watched as he tore off the pillow again and looked at her with reddened eyes.

             
“That’s not funny!” he choked.

             
“I’m sorry, darling,” she apologized, “but you had me terrified I’d done something awful to you!”

             
He stared up at the ceiling. “I think that’s the other way around.”

             
“Was it really
that
awful?” she asked, feeling slightly upset herself.

             
“Oh no!” he exclaimed savagely. “The bloody earth moved!”

             
“Then what’s the problem?”

             
“I meant to do it properly!” he spat out in disgust. “Not on some shower floor!”

             
“I thought we did.”

             
Alec groaned in frustration. “You don’t understand, love.” He watched as his wife pulled out the chair from the desk and sat down with her hands folded neatly in her lap.

             
“Explain it to me, then.”

             
He sat up and clutched the pillow to him. He wouldn’t look at her. “I had it all figured it out. I’d woo you, marry you, and then bed you.”

             
‘That’s so romantic.”

             
“Lucy!” he pleaded and this time raised his head to look at his wife. It didn’t make him feel any better that she looked all of twelve-years old in that nightgown and her hair in braids. In fact, she looked so adorable, he had to fight the urge to get down on his knees and beg her forgiveness. “I’m trying to explain myself!”

             
She brought a finger to her lips. “Go on, you won’t hear a peep from me.”

             
“Oh hell!” he swore, raking an angry hand through his hair. “You deserved better than being taken like that and you not even a month out of hospital!”

             
“But it’s been a month.”

             
“What?”

             
“It’ll be a month this Thursday.”

             
“That’s beside the point!” he muttered more to himself than her. “I was supposed to make up for that time I practically raped you!”

             
Now it was Lucy’s turn to get angry. “Where did
that
come from?”

             
Alec shrugged helplessly. “Didn’t I?”

             
She wouldn't allow him to do this to himself. Hell no! Lucy slid off the chair and fell to her knees before him. She reached out, took his hand, and held it fast when he tried to tug it away. “Now
you
listen to me, Mr. Alec Robert Barrington,” she began in her most stern-like nurse's voice. “I don't know what you think happened in there but it most certainly wasn't what you call...
fucking!”

             
He refused to look at her and sat with slumped shoulders. “It wasn't?”

             
“No!” she told him firmly. “It wasn't!”

             
Finally he dared to glance at her. Her eyes were full of tears and her face full of love...for him. “What would you call it then?”

             
“Making love!” she said softly and brought his hand to her lips. She kissed it and held it against her cheek. “I've seen,” she struggled with the vile word, “fucking and know the difference. You were making love.”

             
“I was?” Alec said a bit uncertainly. “I hurt you,” his hand caressed her cheek.

             
Lucy turned her head and pressed her lips to his hand. “Well, it
had
been a while since we were together.”

             
He nodded and smiled a little. “That's true.”

             
“And you were very gentle by the way.”

             
“I was?” He knew he sounded like a parrot but he needed reassurance that he hadn't manhandled his delicate wife. “It's no excuse, though.”

             
“Oh, stop!” she exclaimed. “It was bound to happen sooner or later. I mean we
are
living together in close quarters. How long did you think it would be before we did the deed?”

             
Alec laughed at his wife. “Are you always this…”

             
“This
what?”

             
“Logical?”

             
Lucy smiled up at him, relief flooding her being. They were going to be all right. “Well, I have to be,” she said dryly. “I'm married to you!”

             
“Cheeky monkey,” he breathed and reached out to toy with a braid. “You look like you're about twelve years-old.”

             
She laughed then and shifted painfully on her knees. “Are you going to invite me in or do I have to sleep on the floor?”

             
He grinned from ear to ear and stretched out on the bed. “Turn the lamp off, love and get in here!”

             
“You're so bossy!” she teased and flicked the lamp off. Lucy slid in beside her husband and he pulled the quilt over them.

             
She sighed happily. “I missed you,” she whispered.

             
Alec hugged her to him and kissed the top of her head. “I missed you, too”

             
Lucy snuggled close. “Let's not do that again!”

             
“Okay,” he sighed and nuzzled her ear. “Even if we fight?”

             
She kissed his neck. “Even then!”

             
“Sounds like a good plan,” he whispered in the dark. “Go to sleep, wife.” Alec held her close and long after she'd fallen asleep, he lay awake, listening to her soft breaths as she breathed in and out. He kissed her brow and slept, treasuring the feel of her in his arms.

              Lucy put on her oven mitts and pulled out the first batch of cookies. Now that she was feeling more like her old self, she'd wanted to try her hand at baking. She decided to try something easy---like Tia's chocolate-chip cookies. Alec had driven her to the small grocery in town and she'd finally been able to do some shopping of her own.

             
She put them on a rack to cool and prepared a new batch. Lucy was spooning up the dough when the phone rang. They hadn't had much contact with the outside world since shutting themselves in their newlywed cottage. The only person who had the number was Rudy, and she wondered what could be so important that he would break radio silence.