Medical Romance July 2016 Books 1-6. Lynne MarshallЧитать онлайн книгу.
“I’ll do whatever I can to help you, but understand something for me?”
He turned just a little to look at her better but kept her hand in his.
“It doesn’t just anger me that you’re causing yourself more pain, but I’ll try to ignore that as much as I can. I’ll help you do what you need, but please take pity on me, and make all these things you have to do as easy on yourself as you can. No unnecessary walking. Put your foot up anytime you can.”
“Come with me to the premieres tomorrow.” He said the words before he’d really thought about the urge. But the desire was real. He hadn’t been at his best on the carpet tonight, and not just because of the ankle. He’d also kept wondering what she was doing. Just how angry she was with him.
“I thought that my coming with you to the premieres was what this was all about?”
“No,” he said, letting go of her hand so he could move around her and his foot was propped up on the bed beside her. “Come as my date.”
She opened her mouth to say no, and he held up a hand, energy coming from some unknown source to give his words some urgency. “Every time I’ve gone solo to a premiere or event, I end up doing way more walking around. Come with me. Be my date. Keep me with you and I won’t do as much walking.”
“I don’t know. I don’t have a gown or anything.”
“Tom can fix it.”
“It’s late, he’d have to do some night shopping or very early morning. We’re leaving at seven, right?”
“Yes, but he can do a lot from the plane. He’s got numbers for both coasts. We’ll go to New York and then take a short flight down and back from Virginia. He can have prospective gowns waiting for you. And whatever you need to help get you ready.”
She didn’t look convinced. The furrow in her brows could be doubt or worry. What would make her come around?
“You can be my walking stick. So I can lean against you a little and not put weight on my bad leg when we’re not walking.”
Her frown deepened. “Will you use a cane?”
“If I have you, I don’t need...” Her look stopped him. “I’ll carry a cane if Tom can find me something that could look like an accessory. And then I can use it if I need to.”
The frown stuck and he caught her hand again, looking for any way to make it sound plausible. “You know, the movie is a historical. Gentlemen used canes. Maybe I could play it as a nod to the movie and theme.”
“You just thought of that now?” Shaking her head, she pulled her hand free. “Where’s your phone? I need to call Tom if we’re going to do this.”
He pulled off his jacket and handed it to her. “Inside breast pocket.”
She hung the jacket on the back of a chair and retrieved the trousers she’d thrown on the floor. “Scoot up to the head of the bed. I’m going to talk to Miles about the travel stuff and call Tom. You order dinner—the phone is on the table.”
He could do those things. Scooting up hurt, but he could do it.
She walked to the door, dialing as she went.
When he’d asked her to help him out, it had never occurred to him that she’d have to do so much for him, but it was like a godsend, having her here.
He hadn’t thought about telling her about the project earlier. He knew it was silly and sentimental—there could never be resolution with all the dark parts of his childhood, even if the role felt like giving a gift to the child he’d been. A kind of resolution. His parents were dead and gone, so there couldn’t be any peace from that corner, but David and Lucy had been the only real parental figures in his life.
And Grace...he could make things right with her. He could make their tentative friendship a real friendship again. Talk it out. Maybe it was time to talk it out now that she’d grown comfortable enough to yell at him. That had to be some kind of sign.
He just had to think about what to say, make sure that he planned it out and didn’t do anything to make things worse between them.
Tomorrow. He’d think about it tomorrow. Tonight he’d eat, do whatever she told him to do, and tomorrow, when some of the pain had abated...
“WHAT TIME ARE we taking off?” Liam asked, leaning back in his seat with the foot rest raised.
The private jet loaned to him by the studio had all the bells and whistles, and none of the executives—both of which he was thankful for. The circle of people in the know was already large enough between his crew, Grace, and Tom—who’d been sworn to secrecy about the ankle situation and seemed happy to go along with the ruse.
“We’re supposed to take off in fifteen minutes.” Miles’s voice came from the seats behind where he and Grace sat.
Grace had the ice back on his foot, and she’d managed to get another couple of diuretics from James. Liam looked up at her. “Shouldn’t I take one of those swelling pills again?”
“Not when you’re flying,” she said, settling into the seat beside him.
Despite the understanding they’d reached last night, she still didn’t look happy with him or being there.
“Why not?”
“Being dehydrated on a flight increases the chances of a blood clot forming. Really, you should be drinking more water right now, especially since your mobility is lessened—you can’t get up and walk around much, and you can’t put weight on that ankle to flex the muscles well enough to—”
“But I’m not dehydrated right now. I’m just overly hydrated at the ankle. And our window between when we arrive and when we have to get ready is small.”
“I know. We’re doing the best we can.”
“I’ll risk it.”
“No.”
“Grace, it took three hours last time to get the swelling to go down.”
“I know, but we’ll just have to try and make it work. Maybe keeping your leg elevated on the flight will help it.”
“It’s not that elevated.”
“You can lie on the floor after takeoff and put it on the seat again if you want to.”
“It takes an hour to kick in. You want me to compromise on things? You have to compromise too, Grace.”
Shouldn’t she be happier with him now? She knew this wasn’t just about ego.
“I will, when it’s not life-threatening levels of dangerous.” Her mouth said yes, but the shake of her head made him doubt she meant it. “Just relax for now. You have a long flight, and I know you didn’t sleep well last night. Maybe you can sleep now that the worst of the pain has passed.”
“I doubt it.”
“Well, I have a way to pass the time if you’re all done fighting,” Tom, the middle-aged stylist, snapped at Grace, and pointed to the front of the plane. “I need a few pictures of you.”
Grace made a face. “Liam sent you a picture yesterday and I’m here in person today. Have you deleted the picture already?”
“No, but that was one angle, and it was from behind. I was flying blind on what your chest was like until I met you last night.”
“And now you’ve seen it.”
“He saw your chest?” Liam asked, frowning dramatically, wanting to cajole her out of her glowering a little. “That hardly seems fair. I’m the one footing this shopping expedition.”