Indivisible Line (11 page)

He wanted to hate her for what she had done, but he couldn’t. Greg owed her his life. She had risked the wrath of her father and faced banishment in order to save him. The least he could do was to try to help her out.

“You’re not playing fair.” She began to pace again.

“I told you. You’re better off accepting my terms.” He gave her a fleeting look. “You’ll be able to finish school and get a license to practice
real
medicine.”

“My friend Cheryl will be looking for me,” Sarah proclaimed in triumph, not realizing this was something he’d already taken into consideration.

Greg smiled at her subtle warning. “I took care of that small detail, too.”

Sarah crossed the room in a blink of an eye and loomed over him. Glaring down at him, her eyes flashed with deep rage. “What did you do?”

Unperturbed, his lips curved into a smile. “I sent a note, signed by you, stating your father had collected you from the university and was taking you back home to Beaver.”

He watched Sarah’s face turn crimson before she lunged at him.

“You’re despicable!” she screamed and started hitting him on the chest.

With the limited movement he could make, he managed to avoid her next punch, grabbed one arm, and twisted enough for her to stop for a moment. Sarah fell next to him and shrieked before she began hitting him again. This time she did the deed with angry fervor.

“You rich people think you can just manipulate us, huh?”

“Sarah, stop it. I’m putting my money to good use here. Making sure a future doctor of America will learn what she needs to know.”

“You dare insult me, too?” She kept hitting him.

He seized both her arms, despite the hits he’d been taking from her. No doubt blinded by anger, Sarah squirmed and jumped on him, using strength he didn’t expect her to possess. She straddled his waist with her legs and started slapping him, tears pouring out of her eyes in torrents while she struck at him with undisputable fury.

He howled before she stopped.

“Greg, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to hit you.” Sarah scrambled to her feet when he doubled over, clutching his stomach.
 

“For Christ’s sake!” he cried when pain shot through his abdomen.

“I . . . I’m sorry.” Sarah took one look at him before glancing down at his stomach area and spotting the fresh blood staining his shirt. She gasped and started pushing him against the sofa. “Lie down. Tell me where to find your first aid kit.”

“Cabinet . . . under the sink.” He cursed and pointed in the direction of his bedroom.

She disappeared into the hallway. Greg could hear a series of doors opening and closing before she reappeared. Sarah kneeled down next to him and snapped the white box open before pulling his hand away from the bleeding site.

“I’m going to lift your shirt so I can see what’s wrong.” Her voice was steady while she searched his face for approval.

Greg nodded. She lifted his shirt, and they discovered that his sutures had partially reopened. It had been just a month since the surgery, and the doctor had warned him not to engage in strenuous activities.

Sarah gasped. “I think we better get you to the emergency room.”

“Call Simon, and tell him to get the driver ready.” He tried to keep from crying like a baby, but the pain was back with a vengeance.

“Simon!” Sarah’s voice cracked and echoed across the room. It took several attempts before Simon came running into the living room. “Get the driver. We’re taking Mr. Andrews to the ER.”

“Greg . . . I said . . . call me Greg.” He thought he saw a brief flicker of amusement on Simon’s face before his security man pulled out his cell phone and punched in a number.

“Rudy, get the car up front. Two minutes,” Simon barked into the receiver. He shoved the phone inside his pocket and dropped to his knees next to Sarah. “Do you want me to carry you, Greg?”

“No! I’ll walk.” He might be hurt, but he wouldn’t allow let them carry him like an invalid. Greg pushed his body up, pausing when the pain became unbearable. Once he was up on his feet, Sarah looped his right arm across her shoulder, and Simon followed her lead and did the same.

Together, they moved toward the door that a sobbing Matilda was holding open for them.

“Matilda, don’t.” He shook his head at the woman when they passed her on their way to the elevator.

While they waited inside one of the cubicles in the emergency room, Sarah caught herself glancing in Greg’s direction one too many times. His eyes were closed, and his hands protectively covered his stomach. Blood stains marked his once-immaculate white Henley, and she couldn’t help the wave of regret that washed over her.

“I’m sorry, Greg,” she mumbled once again.
 

Greg didn’t respond.
 

Sarah had repeated her apology many times during their car ride to the hospital. Her impulsive tendencies often landed her in trouble, and she berated herself now for her actions.

Pacing back and forth, she was not sure what else to do with herself. She drew the curtain and poked her head out, checking to see if anyone was coming to help them soon.

“I will forgive you if you agree to my terms.”

Sarah whipped her head in Greg’s direction and pulled back the curtains. “Yes! Yes.” Her acceptance came too fast. She didn’t even give herself a chance to think of the details. All she cared about, in that particular moment, was taking his pain away, whatever it cost her.

The answer seemed to please him, because he smiled—one of those disarming smiles designed to melt her insides.

“Will you stick to your word?”

She hesitated for a moment. Was she really going to make this promise to a man who had kidnapped and flown her across the country to New York City?

Yes . . .
Her inner voice had returned.
You have nothing to lose but a lot to gain. Your father doesn’t want you back. You might be overstaying your welcome at Cheryl’s home pretty soon.

She nodded her head. “Yes.” Why did it sound like she was giving him more than a simple promise?

Greg seemed to accept her answer. “As soon as we get home, I will give you the list of your class schedules. You’ll be taking the same classes at Columbia as you were at UCLA. I had your transcript evaluated, and you’ve been accepted, no questions asked.”

Although Greg had spoken softly, often gritting his teeth through the pain, Sarah heard him just fine. She shook her head in disbelief. “How did you manage to—” She paused. “Ah, I keep forgetting. Money talks.”

Greg didn’t answer, but he kept looking at her.

“Are you sure they’re accepting me based on my grades and not because you bribed them?” she asked, suspicious again.

“Sarah, you’re a straight-A student. Who wouldn’t want you in their school? All I had to do was convince them to take you even though the semester had already started. When we get back, I’ll have Rudy drive you there so you can sign some papers and familiarize yourself with the campus before you start attending classes.”

The way Greg announced every detail made her cringe. She should be running for the hills. Everything about him screamed
weird
. He had taken matters into his own hands, believing he could predict what her answer would be. Greg had arranged for her to attend a top-notch university and . . . well . . . it was just weird.

“Why are you doing this?”

Greg looked at her with his piercing blue eyes. “Because I wanted to hate you, but I can’t.”

Taken aback by his response, she bristled and turned her back on him. She wanted to lash out at him, but she stopped herself. Not wanting to take the bait, she took a deep breath instead.

“When do I have to help you?”

“During the daytime. I have most of my work delivered to me, since I haven’t been cleared to go back to work—”

“What do you do, Greg?” Sarah walked closer to the tiny exam table and glowered at him.

“I manage a shipping business.”

“Who shot you?”

“What’s with all these questions?” He glared her with sharp eyes.

“Who shot you?” she repeated.

“My best friend.”

That halted the questions for a moment. She gave him a hard look before blowing out a long breath.

“Some best friend,” she announced in a profound understatement.

“You can say that again.”

Greg closed his eyes, and Sarah realized the topic was closed. There was no need to prod anymore. She’d find out sooner or later who this so-called best friend was.

“I want to make things clear. I will pay you back every cent you spent on me. If you’re going to pay me, keep the money toward my repayment. I will help around the house, so tell your nanny to give me some chores.”

Greg opened and closed his mouth, looking like he wanted to say something to dissuade her, but she shook her head.

“No. I don’t ever want to feel that I’m a burden to anyone. This arrangement is based on payback. So, I intend to pay every debt I owe you.”

“As you wish.”

Greg studied her one more time, but any further conversation was halted by the arrival of the doctor. Sarah stayed close to watch the whole process. After the doctor had given her instructions on how to cleanse Greg’s wound and left, they went home without further discussing the terms of their peculiar arrangement.

The first week had been a reasonable success. Sarah and he managed to get along without biting each other’s heads off.
 

Greg grinned while he shuffled papers across his desk. After a few days of limited movement, Sarah had at last given him clearance to do a few hours of work. She’d started her classes at Columbia right away and had kept her end of the bargain without instigating any more arguments between them. He kept having to remind himself that he hated her, but somehow, he always ended up forgetting about it all over again.

Sarah was seated on the sofa across the room in his study, engrossed in her first school report. Greg caught her glancing his way several times. This was what he’d wanted, right? To have her close to him.
 

“Is there anything I can get you?” She looked up, almost catching him staring at her.

“No, I’m fine. Finish your school stuff so we can maybe get some exercise.”

That made Sarah get up and take quick strides to his desk. She gave him a disapproving look and perched her hands over her hips.

“You’re not exercising today. I know you feel like you can do more, but we don’t want to aggravate the stitches more than we already have.”

“I’m going crazy inside this house,” he lamented, pushing the papers aside. Greg clasped his hands behind his head and leaned back.

“I’ll have Simon rent some DVDs,” Sarah offered.

He chuckled. “No one rents DVDs these days. That’s why we have cable and pay-per-view.”

His teasing seemed to have embarrassed her, and Greg immediately wished he could take back his words. He kept forgetting this girl was not used to the luxuries of life. Nothing had come easy to her, he’d been told by his private investigator.

“Why don’t we go out for dinner?” Greg threw the question with as much nonchalance as he could, not wanting her to think there was more to the invitation than there was.