and competent. Wendi’s description was clear in his mind, but he still didn’t have a clue as to what Melissa looked like. Blondish and not very tall from a twelve-year-old could mean anything. He hadn’t realized how much he depended on his eyes to tell him about a person. For now, he had no choice but to trust his instincts. And his gut said Melissa was okay. He had to like someone who could match him quip for quip and even come out on top.
“I’ll be waiting for you to rescue me,” he said. “Wendi, come give your old man a kiss.”
He heard Melissa step back and Wendi move forward. “Bye, Dad. I’m going to spend the afternoon at Kelly’s house and have dinner there. The number’s on the counter in the kitchen.”
“Fine. But be home by eight, kitten.”
“Yes, Dad.” She sighed with bored resignation and planted a kiss on his cheek. He was still smiling when Nurse Attila walked in, her rubber soles squeaking on the linoleum. “Do we need to use the bedpan, Mr. Phillips?”
Melissa pulled the red Volvo station wagon up to the curb by the hospital entrance. She’d wanted to bring her own small car, but Wendi had told her that Logan’s long legs would never have fit. Watching him being wheeled out the door, she had to concede that his daughter might have been right.
Even in the wheelchair, with the white bandages covering his eyes, Logan exuded an air of power. He was a man on the move. The fact that he was wearing jeans and a cotton long-sleeved blue shirt didn’t lessen the impact of his presence. If anything, the casual attire clinging to his masculine body emphasized the strength. After six years of dealing with children, a virile, adult male was going to take some getting used to. But she’d better keep her misgivings to herself. Once he sensed her fear, he’d pounce and show no mercy.
Melissa shook her head and grinned. Get a life, girl, she told herself. He’s just a guy, like a million others. The fact that her heart was racing and her palms felt sweaty was a problem she’d deal with another time—like the year 2000.
She stepped out and moved to the sidewalk. “Ready to go home, Logan?”
He smiled gratefully. There were lines of tension and pain bracketing his mouth. “Yeah. The doctor gave me a very thorough exam before I left. If you were looking for a way to keep me in line, it worked.” The red marks on his face had been treated with a clear ointment that made them seem more raw.
Melissa patted his arm sympathetically. Logan’s corneal abrasion was quite severe. He’d ignored his physician’s orders and now had an infection to deal with, as well. Just the thought of someone probing his already painful eyes and lids was enough to make her shudder.
“Let’s get you home and in bed.”
“Not tonight, dear, I have a headache,” he joked as she helped him to his feet. He towered above her—six feet of injured, frustrated male. “But it’s a hell of a generous offer. I…” He clenched his teeth and drew in a slow breath. “When did the earth start spinning so fast?”
“Hold on to me.” She nodded for the orderly to take Logan’s other side and then turned him toward the car. “You’ve been flat on your back for two days. It takes a second to get your balance. Put your hand out in front of you and feel for the car. There. I’m going to put my hand on the top of your head, so you don’t bump yourself while you get in. Slowly.”
He lowered himself onto the seat and sighed. “Is this the Volvo?”
Melissa closed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. “Yes. How did you know?”
“I recognized the smell.”
She reached across him and grabbed the shoulder belt. His skin had paled to an unhealthy shade of gray, and his lips were pulled into a tight line of pain. After snapping the buckle, she gave his forearm a reassuring squeeze. “Wendi said my car wasn’t big enough for you. Besides, it’s a cheap model and I don’t think she wanted the neighbors watching it pull in and out of the driveway.”
Her attempt at humor was rewarded with a slight smile. “That’s my girl, always worrying about what the neighbors will think. She gets it from her mother.” He fumbled on the far side of the seat, then lowered the back down. “Home, James.”
“Yes, sir.”
Melissa started the engine and carefully put the car into drive. After easing out of the hospital parking lot, she turned onto the canyon road that would take them to Logan’s place.
The house wasn’t that far from the bustling west side of Los Angeles, but once in the hills the only hints of the large city were the occasional glimpses of high rises that flashed through the trees. Houses were set back from the street, with heavy gates and thick, tall trees standing guard.
She watched for the correct turn. Logan lived on a long cul-de-sac, third house from the corner. Although slightly more modest than its neighbors, his house was still impressive. The used-brick facade was elegant. A circular driveway curved in front, then veered off toward a three-car garage.
He probably paid more in property taxes than she’d earned all last year, she thought as she slowed the car to a stop. Maybe she should have gone into a different line of work.
“We’re here, Logan.”
He sat up slowly and opened the car door. She half expected him to go barreling off toward the house, but he seemed to have learned his lesson at the hospital. He swung his legs out, then waited impatiently on the seat.
Logan inhaled and smelled the roses in the front yard. He remembered fighting Fiona about the color so many years before, but he’d never noticed the scent. Once the yard was finished, it had ceased to demand his attention. Today the heavy perfume filled the air. There was the sound of a car going down the street and a dog barking in the distance. His world had been reduced to blackness, intruded upon only by sound and touch and smell. He felt alone and isolated.
“It’s about fifteen feet to the front door and there’s one step. I’ll tell you before we get there. Now stand up slowly and lean on the car. When you’ve got your balance, put your arm around my shoulders.”
Logan thought about arguing. He disliked being told what to do, by anyone. But the dizziness he’d experienced before, combined with the pain in his eyes, was enough to dull his natural charge-ahead instinct. Most of all, he hated the helplessness.
He rose and gripped the top of the car. The world lurched a couple of times and settled into still blackness.
“Ready?” she asked.
He nodded. As she slipped his arm around her shoulder, he recalled Wendi’s description. Melissa was short; he had to lean down to let her help him. Her hand held on to his side, providing him with a surprising amount of support for a small person. The gentle round flesh pressing against his ribs could only be her breast. He grinned. His daughter had neglected to mention that Melissa was curvy. Something inside rumbled as if to remind him he’d been alone for too long.
Soft strands of hair brushed against his bare forearm, swaying back and forth with each step. It was like being tickled with silky feathers. He would have teased her about the sensation or wondered about the tingling in his groin if he hadn’t tripped on an uneven flagstone.
The sense of falling into nothing jerked him back to reality. He
