On the Edge, Page 2

  She was waiting at the airport gate when Jed finally came through the door. He was one of the last passengers off the plane and Amy had begun to wonder if she had met the wrong flight. When she saw the cane and the stark, controlled expression on Jed’s face she had the fleeting sensation of having definitely met the wrong plane, it was as if she were seeing him clearly for the first time.

  He stopped when he saw her. He had a small leather flight bag and a bundle of sadly crushed yellow roses in his right hand. The passengers leaving the plane behind him separated and flowed around him in twin streams as if he were a boulder that had fallen into their path.

  Amy saw the grim challenge in his eyes and swallowed her shock. She hurried forward, reaching automatically for the leather bag. Impulsively driven by a need to offer welcome and comfort, she stood briefly on tiptoe to brush her lips lightly across his. She had never before offered such a personal greeting and she was startled by the feel of his mouth. It was hard and inflexible under hers. Quickly she stepped back. Summoning a smile, Amy sought for the light, cheerful touch that had characterized their relationship for the past three months.

  “You do know how to make an entrance, I’ll say that for you. Want me to get a wheelchair?”

  He glared at her. “No, I do not want a wheelchair. I’m embarrassed enough as it is. The thought of you pushing me in a wheelchair is a little more than I can take at the moment. I know I look like hell.”

  Amy arched her eyebrows faintly, studying him. He’d never snapped at her before; not once during the half dozen or so times they’d spent together. His tone of voice tonight was undoubtedly caused by his present physical condition. “That’s one way of putting it.”

  Jed’s mouth twisted wryly. “Sorry for the short temper. It’s been a long day.” Jed started forward as Amy walked beside him.

  “I can see that.” Amy smiled easily. “Where did you come from? A war zone?”

  “I had an accident.”

  “Somehow I managed to figure that out all on my own. Jed, no offense, but you look terrible. Should I take you to an emergency room?” She found the flight bag surprisingly heavy and wondered how he’d managed it in his condition. Quickly she scanned his face, trying to assess the damage as she walked beside him to the car.

  “The last thing I need is an emergency room. I’ve had all the doctors I can stand for a while.”

  “What on earth happened? Was it an industrial accident? Did something happen at the job site?” Amy asked seriously.

  “Nothing that dramatic. It was a car accident.” Jed frowned down at the crumpled flowers under his arm. “Here, these are for you.”

  “They look like they went through the same accident.” Amy smiled with determined brightness as she took the crushed flowers. She was touched that he had remembered. It made her realize she’d grown accustomed to the little homecoming ritual. Maybe there were more expectations between them than she was willing to admit.

  “I slept on them in the plane.”

  “Where did the accident take place? In Saudi Arabia?” Amy asked as she halted beside her compact and fumbled for the keys.

  “What? Oh. Yeah. Saudi Arabia.” Jed slid into the passenger seat with a muttered groan. He shut his eyes briefly and then opened them. “They drive like crazy people over there.”

  “No kidding? Well, now you’re in my hands,” Amy remarked as she slipped in beside him and started the engine.

  “The mind boggles.”

  “You should have thought of that before you called me to come pick you up.” She shifted into reverse and backed out of the slot with her customary élan.

  Jed turned his head to look at her. In the shadows of the car his face was an intent mask. “Thanks for coming out tonight, Amy,” he said quietly. “I don’t know what I would have done without you. I’m in no shape to drive.”

  “I’ve noticed.” She kept her tone dry so the worry wouldn’t show through. Jed wouldn’t want her worrying, and she was a little afraid of what her worrying about him might mean. “Any permanent damage?”

  “I’m told I’m still structurally sound although it doesn’t feel like it at the moment.”

  “Who told you that? The doctors at your company’s engineering site?”

  “Yeah. But what do they know?”

  “Good question. Did you sue?”

  “Who? The driver? Not a chance. Things work differently over there. It took three company lawyers and a hefty bribe just to keep the guy who hit me from suing me,” Jed said laconically.

  “The perils of being a globe-trotting engineer. Those of us who only sit and wait lead far less adventurous lives.”

  “So I’m told. How’s the book going?” Jed leaned his head back and closed his eyes.

  She had learned to expect such polite inquiries from him. “It’s going together all right. I’ve finally got a handle on it.”

  “Settled on a title? You were calling it Untitled Opus Number Four when I left.”

  “Somehow I decided after you left that that sounded a bit ostentatious. The new title came to me in a blinding flash last week while I was scrubbing the shower,” Amy admitted lightly. “Private Demons. What do you think?”

  Jed considered the matter with mocking solemnity. “I like it. It’s got charm, wit, pathos and the essence of a double entendre. What more could an editor ask?”

  “A book that lives up to the title?”

  “Some people have a lot of nerve, don’t they? They’d complain if they got hung with a new rope. God, I’m tired.” He fished in the pocket of his cotton slacks for a small bottle.

  “What’s that?” Amy shot him a swift glance as he swallowed a tiny tablet without opening his eyes.

  “Painkiller. Good stuff. Worth fifty bucks on the street, the doctors told me. Maybe if I have any left I can sell them and make enough to take you out to dinner as thanks for picking me up tonight. Might as well salvage something from this trip.” He shoved the bottle back into his pocket.

  “I take it you do not consider this trip a resounding success?”

  “It was an unmitigated disaster,” he told her flatly.

  Startled by the admission, Amy bit back a response. It wasn’t like Jed to be so open about his business problems.

  “Well, I’ll have you safely on your front doorstep in less than half an hour,” she assured him. “You’re sure you don’t want to go to the emergency room?”

  There was no answer to her remark. Amy took her eyes off the narrow, winding road long enough to glance at her passenger’s face. Jed was asleep. She didn’t think he would appreciate waking up in an emergency room.

  Half an hour later Amy turned down the main street of Caliph’s Bay. The tiny, seaside community was sound asleep. There was one street light at the intersection by the post office, but other than that all was in darkness. Even Caliph’s Inn, the town’s one motel, had turned off its vacancy sign. Jed’s small, weather-beaten house was located on a bluff overlooking the sea. Amy started to slow as she approached the turnoff, then glanced again at her sleeping passenger.

  Jed was in no condition to look after himself tonight. The man was dead tired and doped to the gills with little white pills. Amy made her decision and put her foot back down on the accelerator.

  A few minutes later she parked the car in the drive of her own cabin. She turned in the seat, trying to estimate the task ahead of her. Jed Glaze was all hard muscle and solid bone; there was nothing light or airy about him. There was no way she could get him inside unless he walked on his own two feet.

  “Jed?” Gently she touched his arm. He didn’t move, but quite suddenly his hazel eyes were open and fixed on her face. His abrupt awakening gave Amy a jolt, and her hand fell away from his arm.

  “Are we there?” The intensity faded from his gaze.

  “Yes. And there’s no way I can carry you. Unless you can levitate, I’m afraid you’re going to have to walk.”

  “Right now levitating sounds easier.” With a sig
h he stirred and opened the car door.

  Amy got out on her side and hurried around to help him. “Here, let me get your cane. Don’t worry about the flight bag. I’ll bring it.”

  Jed leaned one elbow against the roof of the car and stared at the house. “This is your place.”

  “I see your powers of observation haven’t been completely dulled by little white pills. Come on, it’s cold out here. Let’s get inside.”

  He looked down at her as she stood illuminated in the faint yellow porch light. His hazel gaze was unreadable. “I don’t want to be any more of a pain in the ass than I’ve already been tonight.”

  “Forget it. I’d rather have you here where I can keep an eye on you than send you home where you might get into trouble.”

  “What kind of trouble am I likely to get into at home?”

  “In your present condition, you could have any one of a variety of common household accidents,” she informed him as she took his arm and pried him away from the support of the car.

  “For example?” He sounded only mildly interested as he allowed her to lead him toward the front door.

  “For example, you could lose your balance in the bathroom and drown ignominiously in the toilet.”

  “It would be a hell of a way to go, wouldn’t it?”

  “It would definitely make for an embarrassing obituary. Watch the step, Jed.”

  “You’ve only got one bed.” His protest was remarkably feeble.

  “I’ll use the couch.”

  “I can take the couch.”

  “You,” Amy announced with gentle tyranny, “will take what you’re given. You haven’t got the strength to argue about it tonight.”

  “You may be right.”

  She got him through the small living room with its old wooden floors, comfortably shabby furniture, braided rugs and collection of savage science fiction and horror art posters. Proceeding into the bedroom, Amy flipped on the light to reveal more of the same rustic furniture. There was a poster featuring a well endowed, futuristic Amazon warrior confronting a dragon on the wall over the bed. Jed came to a halt beside the bed, wavering a little. He focused first on the poster and then on the flannel nightgown Amy had left lying across the quilt.

  “I sleep in my shorts,” he announced.

  “How terribly macho of you. Can you get yourself undressed?”

  He swung his gaze to her concerned face, his heavy brows coming together in a nearly solid line. “I won’t know until I try. If you want to play nurse, go ahead. I’m not proud.”

  She felt the heat rush into her cheeks and was startled by the degree of her own embarrassment. She moved nervously, collecting the flannel nightgown from the bed. “Forget I asked. I’ll give you some privacy so you can get ready for bed.”

  “Ah, Amy, I’m sorry. I guess I snapped at you again, didn’t I?”

  “Not exactly. I think you were teasing me. But you do seem a little on the edgy side tonight.”

  “That’s funny,” he said consideringly as he fumbled with the buttons on his khaki shirt. “I always think of you as being the edgy one. King of high-strung at times. Nervy. As if you’re always walking along some ledge.”

  Amy paused in the doorway. “I had no idea you’d been busy analyzing me.”

  “I spend a lot of time thinking about you. Especially on airplanes. Always a lot of time to think on an airplane.”

  She saw his hands tremble slightly as he reached the last button of his shirt. The man was definitely half out of it, she thought. In a few more minutes he would be asleep on his feet. Even his dark, gravelly voice was taking on a slurred, groggy quality. She had a hunch Jed didn’t know what he was saying. “Be careful, Jed. Maybe you’d better sit down.”

  He ignored her advice, his mind obviously pursuing its own line of thought. “I thought a lot about you on the flight back today, Amy. I got to wondering.”

  “Wondering what, Jed?” She had picked up her nightgown, and now realized she was crushing the fabric in her hands.

  “Whether you’d lose some of that high-strung edginess in bed. Be interesting to find out, wouldn’t it?”

  Amy’s eyes flew to his face, but he wasn’t really looking at her. She had the impression his attention was focused on some image in his head. “You’re in no condition to find out anything tonight, Jed,” she informed him briskly. “Call me if you need any help.” She started to turn away, but his voice stopped her.

  “I need help.”

  Amy turned back and saw him watching her with a steady intensity. His khaki shirt hung open, revealing the sleek contours of his chest and a wealth of dark hair that tapered down to his flat, taut stomach. His hands seemed all tangled up with the buckle of his belt. When he wavered slightly, she rushed forward.

  “Here, let me do that,” Amy said quickly. “You really are in bad shape, aren’t you?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve got so many pills in me I can’t feel a thing.” He sank down onto the edge of the bed, eyeing her with interest as she knelt in front of him and pulled off his low, worn boots. “In the Middle East they’re very big on subservient women.”

  “The Middle East has several enormous problems. The attitude toward women is only one of them,” Amy informed him as she let the second boot drop to the floor. She glanced up and saw the warmth in his hazel eyes. She didn’t need feminine intuition to know that what she saw in his gaze had absolutely nothing to do with sexual desire, or at least not much to do with it. She put her hand on his forehead. “Did those doctors give you anything for a fever?”

  He blinked owlishly. “There’s another bottle of something in my flight bag.”

  “I’ll get it.” She was on her feet before he could argue.

  Inside the leather bag she found a small bundle of dirty laundry, one clean shirt, shaving gear and a bottle of tablets. By the time she got back to the bedroom, Jed had managed to slide out of his trousers and make his way into the bathroom.

  When he emerged a few minutes later he was wearing a pair of snug briefs that only emphasized the fact that he was built solidly everywhere. He confronted her, bracing himself with one large hand wrapped around the doorframe. The strong, masculine contours of his body were broken not only by the underwear, but by a wide swath of white bandage around his left thigh. There was an ugly, fading bruise over his rib cage and what looked like a line of stitches slanting diagonally across his right arm above the elbow.

  Amy stared in shock. “My God, Jed.”

  “Structurally sound,” he reminded her dryly. He followed her glance to the bandage on his inner thigh. “Just barely. Let me have those tablets.”

  Wordlessly she handed him the bottle and watched him disappear into the bathroom to swallow more pills. When he emerged a second time he headed directly for the bed. Sinking down into it with a deep groan of relief, he tugged the covers up over his bare chest and turned his face into the pillow.

  “Smells just like you,” he mumbled. “Soft and warm. Do you realize this will be the first time I’ve ever spent a night in your bed?”

  He was asleep before Amy could think of a response.

  She quietly switched off the light and wandered out into the kitchen. She stood in the center of the old linoleum floor and wondered whether it was worth trying the tryptophane tablets she’d bought the day before at the health food store in town. As wound up and wide awake as she was now the odds were against her getting any sleep tonight, regardless of what approach she tried. Still, anything was worth a try.

  Uncapping the bottle, she grimaced as she saw how large the tablets were. Regular horse pills. She would be lucky to get them down. She ran water into a glass and tossed down two of the pills. Her heart wasn’t in the project. Still, trying something was better than trying nothing at all. There was a certain psychological value in taking assertive steps, and certainly the tryptophane tablets couldn’t hurt her.

  Moving back out into the living room, Amy surveyed the old lumpy couch with a resigned eye, t
hen went to a cupboard and pulled out a sheet and some blankets. She felt odd getting ready for bed knowing Jed was in the house. But thinking of him in her bed was odder still.

  The fact that she and Jed had not become lovers was her own fault, of course. While she had made it clear from the beginning that she wanted only friendship, she had never found a way to explain that friendship was what she needed and about all she could handle at the moment. Dealing with her private anxieties took most of her energy.

  Jed hadn’t pushed. He never pushed. He took what was offered in the way of companionship and an occasional meal and then went home. Once or twice he had invited her out to dinner. He seemed content with their arrangement, but there had been times when she knew he felt quite differently. She was always very careful around him on such occasions.

  This was the third trip he had made during the three months she had known him. He’d been gone a month this time, the longest stretch yet. The first trip had lasted seventeen days and the second had lasted three weeks. When it was all added up, Amy decided ruefully, she really hadn’t had that much time with Jed Glaze. They were really still just getting to know each other, so in a way it made sense that her feelings were so confused.

  He came and went with only the most casual of explanations. The first time he had told her he was leaving on a consulting assignment she had wished him a good trip and offered to drive him to the airport. He had declined the offer politely, and Amy had never again volunteered. She had understood that he didn’t want even a tiny, niggling sense of obligation between them.

  When he had reappeared on her doorstep seventeen days later with an old-fashioned bunch of flowers in his hand, she had seen the pent-up sexual need simmering in his eyes. It was as if whatever he had done on his trip had built up pressure and tension inside him that were seeking a channel for escape. Apparently, he had decided that channel was sex.

  Amy had been happy to see him, but her womanly instincts had reacted skittishly to the barely restrained sensual demand she sensed in him. She had invited him to stay for dinner, wary of the outcome. She sensed he was a volcano waiting to explode. The sensible side of her nature warned her it would be better to send him home. She couldn’t handle a lover, least of all a man like Jed Glaze.