Theresa stirs. She shifts around in her seat, then her eyelids flutter open. Her green eyes fix on me. She blinks, then sits up, "You’re awake?"
I take in the bandage on her temple and anger rips through my veins. "What the hell are you doing here?"
3
Theresa
"Uh, I wanted to make sure that you were okay."
I blink rapidly. Why is he angry? Is it because I fell asleep while waiting for him to wake up? No, that doesn’t make sense. After the intruder had shoved me aside, I had hit my head and blacked out. I had woken up in another room in the hospital to find a nurse dressing my wounds. They had offered me painkillers, which I hadn’t wanted to take, but I had finally relented in the hope that it would reduce my headache. The pills helped, but they made me drowsy, which is why I had fallen asleep in the chair, and had woken up to find him glaring at me.
"You shouldn’t be here," he says in a hard voice.
Goosebumps pop on my skin. Hell, why is it that my body responds this way to him? I swallow, push myself to my feet. "Considering you are flat on your back and not even able to walk without help, I don’t think you have much say in the matter, do you?"
His lips firm, "Where’s Luca?"
"He took a break." I gather my hair over one shoulder—damn it, why do I keep losing my hair ties?—then walk over to stand next to him. "You’re feeling better, I take it?"
"I’ll feel better when I am out of this goddam hospital."
"Can’t say I blame you." I sniff, "The color of this hospital gown is playing havoc with your complexion."
"Eh?" He stares at me as if I have grown a second head. "What do you mean?"
"Just that you, ah, look pale. I mean, you are still tanned, of course. In fact, your skin color definitely shows that you spend a lot of time outside, but the hospital gown is a dirty cream color. Of course, flowers in that color look so much better."
"Flowers?" He blinks.
"I own a flower shop. I’m a florist, you know? I specialize in tulips. Did you know there are more than 3000 registered varieties of tulips in the world? Of course, I don't showcase all of them, but it's my dream to do so one day. I'll have to wait until my flower shop makes a lot more money, considering some of these tulips are so rare, they go at $2500 a bulb."
He's staring at me as if I have grown another head or sprouted a flower...a tulip flower, to be exact. Argh.What the hell am I doing, blathering like an idiot?Why does he make me so nervous that I seem to blurt out whatever comes into my head?"
"Umm, okay, now that I have thoroughly embarrassed myself..." my voice trails off. "Forget it." I turn to leave.
"What's the name of your flower boutique?"
I pause. Did he refer to it as a flower boutique? That's really creative. No one has ever referred to it like that before. I glance at him over my shoulder. "Do you really want to know?"
He merely tilts his head. The silence stretches. My skin begins to feel too tight for the rest of my body. A bead of sweat slides down the valley between my breasts and I know I have to speak before I lose the ability to form words."The Tilting Tulip,"I murmur.
"A fan of Don Quixote, I take it?"
My gaze widens. Oh, my god! Nobody, and I mean nobody, has guessed the origin of that name, to date. Not even Xander. Not even Elsa, my friend and sole employee who has helped me with the flower shop almost since the day it opened. So how did this guy figure it out? It scares me more than the fact that he has such an uncanny resemblance to Xander.
"Umm, okay. Bye, I have to leave now." I spin around, dart toward the doorway.
"Theresa," he growls, "get back here." His voice chafes over my nerve endings and does funny things to my insides. My belly trembles. My core clenches. Moisture beads my pussy. Hell, the man is on his back, trying to recover from a coma, but he’s far from helpless. He only has to call me by my name and I want to throw myself down at his feet and beg him to lick me all over… Especially in that throbbing place between my thighs. Definitely across my breasts. Maybe I could beg him to pluck at my nipples and tweak them hard until I came. Maybe I could—
"Theresa."
I squeak. "Y…yes," I stutter as I bite down on my lower lip.
"Turn around and face me."
My steps slow until I come to a halt. I draw in a breath, then turn and meet his gaze. Those blue eyes, so like Xander’s…yet not. The look in them is so much more intense, like I have his entire attention. Did Xander ever look at me that way? Like I was the only one in the world and he couldn’t take his attention off of me?
"Why are you here?" He scowls, "What do you want from me?"