think about running away, or about Ben’s increasing affection for her.
All she thought about was escape. Dark bliss. Nothingness.
But in her dreams, she found another life, another world. As she had every night since John was admitted to the hospital, Shannon dreamed of him.
In this dream, when she kissed John, he awakened and kissed her back. She was stunned by the kiss. She had never been kissed in real life the way he kissed her in this dream. It was so unnerving that she told everyone on the staff that John had come around, but no one would take the time to listen to her. They thought that she was crazy or they ignored her as if she didn’t exist. She felt herself fading out of their reality. When she went back to John, he feigned being comatose until she came close. Then he pulled her into his arms and kissed her again. The press of his lips was sensual and entreating, urging her to bond with him. She wanted to surrender to him, but she always broke away, her fears flapping around her like predator birds. John fell back into the pillows, unconscious again, leaving her feeling more lonely than before as she struggled to save him.
Shannon tossed fitfully as the dream exhausted her.
The alarm went off at two o’clock that afternoon. Staring at the clock she blinked once, then twice, her mind undecided which reality was best.
What does it matter? John is a part of both.
She flipped the covers across the bed and slammed her palm over the alarm button.
“You’d think after five years I’d be used to starting my workday in the middle of the afternoon,” she grumbled and began her day.
7
Shannon Riley had saved John Doe’s life—twice. But no one in the hospital thought anything of it. Such heroics were commonplace. That was their job—saving lives.
Only Ben thought she was exceptional. However, when he’d tried to make a point of it, standing with her in the hall outside John’s room, Shannon blew him off like winter wind.
“I was just doing my job,” she said meekly, hoping to avoid conversation with him. “Just like you.”
“Is it that you don’t like me in particular, or is it all cops?” he asked, holding out a cup of coffee.
Shannon avoided catching his eye and quickly tried to change the subject. “What’s this?” She looked at the coffee askance.
“It’s safe. Not the hospital rotgut stuff. I got it from the café across the street.”
“What for?”
“It’s a gift. You’ve heard of those?” he quipped with a smile.
“But why?”
“I’m trying to get to know you better.”
“That part I understand. You shouldn’t spend your money on me.”
“Why not?”
She looked down. “Ben, I’m sure you’re a nice man, but…”
Frowning, he said, “You don’t like me. You can say it.”
Sheepishly she looked up at him. A faint smile broke across her face. “I…like you.”
“Ah, hope,” he replied with mock theatrics. “This is getting cold, Shannon,” he said, holding the coffee out again.
Taking it from him, she said, “I really do hate hospital coffee.” She sipped it. “And this is so good.” She smiled broadly.
He beamed. “More hope.”
“To answer your question, it’s not you in particular I’m avoiding. It’s just that I’m private, that’s all.”
He took a step closer. “Why is that? You have something to hide?” he joked.
“No,” she replied nonchalantly.
“I know there isn’t a husband in the picture,” he said with a shrug.
“How?” she asked, surprised.
“I asked.”
“Oh,” she said with obvious tension. “What else did you ask?”
“If there was a boyfriend.” He paused, waiting for a reaction. When he didn’t get one, he continued. “Maybe my sources aren’t so good.”
She looked into the coffee and not at him. “There’s no one.”
“You say that so sadly,” he said, touching her shoulder.
Shannon jerked away as if he’d burned her.
“He hurt you that much?”
She felt tears threaten but she fought them. He would never see them. No one would. It was one of her rules. “I never said there was anyone. Why do you persist with these questions? Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
“I can,” he said, his eyes caressing her face. “But I don’t want to. I told you, I want to get to know you.”
Ben hovered over the crown of her head, wanting to kiss her at the top of her being. “I want to be your friend.”
“No, you don’t.”
“Yes, I do.” He closed his eyes and inhaled a faint lavender scent from the soap she used.
Still looking into her coffee, Shannon fought her emotions. She hated how they crept up on her without warning and threatened to give her away. She didn’t want anyone, least of all a man, to know about her. For so long she’d pretended she was a woman without a past. Without history. She was Shannon Riley—nurse. That was all. “I have enough friends,” she said finally.
“But I don’t.” His voice dropped to a hush.
Empathy nearly bowled her over. Half of her wanted to bolt from this intimacy while the other half wanted the friendship he offered. “Ben, please…”
“So answer my question, Shannon. Is there someone? Was there someone? If so, I’ll go away.”
“A monster. A long time ago.” A tear dropped from her eye.
“I’m sorry,” he said, touching her arm. “But I’m not him.”
“I don’t want that to ever happen to me again,” she said. She handed the coffee back and turned away.
“But that’s not living,” Ben protested softly.
“Sure it is,” she said, braving a smile. “People do it all the time. If they’re smart.”
Ben stepped back to give her full berth. “And you’re smart?”
“As a whip,” she replied and retreated
