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The Billionaire Next Door

Page 28

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As Sean heard the shower come on, he imagined what she looked like, taking off her scrubs, stepping under the warm water, soaping up her body. He leaned his head back against the jamb and stared at the ceiling.


Wanting a specific woman was a new experience, but it was very clear that he had a case of the desperates for Lizzie. His blood was running red-hot again and the only thing that was going to put out the fire was her.


His BlackBerry went off, which was a relief. With any luck, he’d get sufficiently distracted so that what was doing behind his fly wouldn’t show by the time Lizzie came back out.


After checking caller ID, he put his phone to his ear. “Mick, what’s the news?”


“Congratulations, buddy, you did it. The Condi-Foods board signed off on the deal. You’re going to get the formal call in about ten minutes. Holy hell, biggest transaction on the books this year and it’s all you.”


Sean heard the shower turn off. “That’s great news, my man.”


Mick laughed. “You’re always so tight about these things. Most guys I know would be hopping around the room and breaking out the Cohibas.”


“Lot of work to get to the finish line even with the board’s approval.” As doors were open and shut down the hall, he imagined Lizzie walking around in a towel. “It’s not over yet.”


“We need to celebrate anyway. How long are you going to be up there in Beantown?”


“I’ll come back on Sunday night.”


“Your father’s place almost boxed up?”


“Haven’t started yet.”


There was a pause. “So what’s been going on in Boston?”


“Nothing.”


“You’re spending a lot of time there for someone who still has packing to do.”


Lizzie’s voice carried down the hall. “Almost ready, Sean.”


“Who’s that?” Mick demanded.


“I’ve got to go, buddy.”


“The hell you do. You seeing someone up there?”


“Ah…kind of.” Assuming she’d have him.


The laugh that came across the line was a low, very masculinegotcha . And it took Sean back to a similar conversation he once had with a friend. Yeah, except back then with Gray Bennett, his buddy had been the one falling for a woman. And Sean had been the guy laughing.


Guess this was payback.


“So who is she, SOB?”


“You don’t know her.”


“Then you need to bring her to New York. I want to meet the woman who’s gotten you to travelto her.”


Lizzie walked in, dressed in a fresh pair of scrubs. “I’m ready—oh, sorry.”


As she made like she was going to duck out of the room, he shook his head to stop her. “Look, I’ve got to go, Mick. I’ll call you later.” As he hung up without waiting for a response, an odd sinking sensation washed over him. Would she ever come to New York? he wondered. “So where we headed?”


“Boston Medical Center.” She frowned and tilted her head to one side. “Hey, your right eye is twitching. Are you okay?”


He rubbed at the thing, annoyed by the way it was making his vision flicker. “Yeah, just fine. Actually, I got some great news from work.”


“Good.” Her stare surveyed him in what suddenly seemed like a professional manner.


He brought his hand up again and tried to get his eyelid to quit the disco routine.


“Sean, when was the last time you slept for more than a few hours?”


He had to smile. “Probably back when I was in college. That was basically the only time I slept well. But it’s no big—”


Sean stopped breathing and blinked hard. Then scrubbed both his eyes. As he looked at Lizzie, half of her was gone, dissolved in a shimmering halo.


“Crap.”


“Sean?”


“I’m having a migraine.”


“Have you gotten them before?”


“Once or twice.”


“Do you have medication?”


“No, because they don’t come frequently enough. I think you’d better call a taxi because I can’t drive right now. Oh, man…This is going to be a big one.”


***


When Lizzie got home at 4:00 a.m., she opened the door to her apartment quietly and snuck in. The place was dead dark and dead silent.


Carefully putting her keys and purse on a table, she kicked off her shoes and padded down the hall. She put her head through her bedroom door and was disappointed when she saw through the dimness that her bed was empty.


Before she’d left for work, she’d pushed Sean between her sheets and closed the blinds and the curtains and told him to stay put. Clearly, though, he’d gone upstairs at some point.


Which meant she was going to go check on him. She wanted to see how he was doing and give him some of the over-the-counter medicine she’d picked up at the hospital.


Before she went up, she headed for the bathroom and flipped on the overhead—


Lizzie froze.


Sean was on the tile, curled up next to her toilet, having obviously spent some time throwing up. Had he passed out? she thought with panic.


A moan came up from the floor. “Lights off. Please.”


She quickly hit the switch, and as blackness returned, he let out a ragged breath.


Kneeling by him, she whispered, “I have something for you to take if you’d like. Excedrin Migraine. It works very well or so I’ve heard.”


His voice was reedy, nothing like the deep bass she was used to. “Don’t think I could hold anything down.”


“You want to go back to the bed?”


“Not yet.”


“Do you need to go to the ER?”


“No.”


She left and came back with a pillow and a blanket. Then she did the kindest thing she could for him: she left him alone.


After using the hall bath, she got into bed and stared at the ceiling. Stress was a classic trigger for migraines and she was willing to bet his father’s death coupled with whatever news had come from New York, even though it had been positive, had been what did it. All that travel couldn’t have helped, either.


She thought of him lying in a ball on the floor. It was difficult to imagine someone as powerful as him being so fragile, but that was illness for you. As a nurse, she’d seen it so many times. Pain was the great equalizer, capable of stripping the crowns from kings.


She hated that Sean was hurting. And wished there was more she could do for him. Poor man…


She must have fallen asleep because sometime later the mattress wiggled. “Sean? How are you feeling?”


“Bad. Stomach has settled down though.”


“Can I give you the meds?”


“Yeah.”


She got the bottle, gave him two white pills with some water, and then lay back down beside him. As she turned to him, his hand came fishing through the sheets and the blankets and found hers. When he squeezed, she squeezed back.


“I’m right here if you need me,” she said softly.


“Thanks.” There was a stretch of silence. “I think I need you.”


“You want something to eat? Drink?”


“No. I just…think I need you.” He exhaled and fell silent.


She looked at the ceiling…and against her better judgment, beamed in the dark.


***


Chapter Twelve


“Could you please call my brother?”


It was late the next morning and Lizzie was standing over her bed, hands on her hips, clinical eye on Sean.


She ignored his request. “Have you ever had one that’s lasted this long?”


“Yeah. It’s been a decade, but yeah.”



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