Heartsong Page 3

  Skye’s legs felt shaky; it was ridiculous to be so affected by this man.

  “Skye,” he said, using her name for the first time. “Will you stay awhile?”

  “I … can’t.” Nervously she moistened her dry lips. “I’m meeting Sally for dinner.” She had only left a message for Sally to meet her if she could, but Skye knew if she were to remain with Jordan it would only enhance this unsettling effect he had upon her.

  His eyes narrowed. Too late, Skye realized her excuse had dented his pride.

  Jordan wasn’t the kind of man women would easily refuse. She had already tried his vanity before with her deception; to provoke him again would be unkind. Jordan wasn’t like her neighbor who saw her as a conquest to be made. Billy’s roommate was in pain and lonely.

  “Afraid?” he mocked.

  “No, of course not,” she denied instantly.

  “How about later tonight then?” he said, surprising her by pursuing the subject.

  “I don’t think so … I sing with the church choir, and we practice on Wednesday nights,” she hurried to explain. She was making a mess of this. Her whole purpose as a hospital volunteer was to help others. Surely it went against his nature to even ask her to stay, and she knew she was denying him only because of the strange feelings he stirred within her. Right away she felt guilty. “I suppose I could stop for a few minutes afterward, but it might be late.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll be awake.” He sounded like he was silently laughing at her.

  “It’s spring vacation next week, isn’t it?” Sally asked as the late-afternoon sunshine filtered through the hospital cafeteria.

  “Praise God, yes,” Skye rejoiced openly. “I could do with a vacation.” Maybe all this turmoil with Jordan was just the result of a bad case of spring fever.

  Eyeing Skye’s meager dinner, Sally demanded, “How can you survive with just a bowl of soup?”

  Skye couldn’t very well admit that her confrontation with Jordan had robbed her of her appetite. “I ate a little something before leaving the house.” A small deception; she’d had only tea.

  Sally pushed the remainder of her salad aside. “I hate dieting,” she declared vehemently. “I could kill for a pizza.”

  Skye couldn’t keep from laughing. Sally had been dieting with no real success ever since Skye had known her.

  “Losing weight would be easier if you exercised more often,” Skye advised with an encouraging smile. “Why not run with me, Sally? It’ll help.”

  Sally rolled her eyes expressively. “Thanks, but no thanks. I’m not that desperate. You’ve forgotten I’ve seen you run. I couldn’t keep up with you if I was pedaling a bicycle.” Absently her hand smoothed a nonexistent crease from the skirt of her uniform. “If you weren’t so easy to like, I could be jealous of you.”

  “Me?” Skye was genuinely shocked. “I can’t believe that. I’m the one who steps into a cold apartment every night. I don’t have a loving husband or a precious baby like Anne Marie. I should be the envious one.”

  A full smile teased Sally’s mouth. “You don’t have twenty extra pounds to lose, either. I guess it’s just a case of the grass being greener on the other side of the fence. But honestly, if you’re lonely, let me introduce you to Andy’s new accountant.”

  “Sally, no!” Skye interrupted brusquely. “I’m a big girl now and quite capable of finding my own dates.”

  “Jordan Kiley has been asking questions about you.”

  “Oh?” Skye took another sip of her coffee, hoping to appear nonchalant and hide her interest.

  “You know me,” Sally said, grinning. “By three o’clock in the afternoon I’d sell my soul for a chocolate chip cookie, and Kiley offered me the whole bakery.” Her eyes sparkled with impish delight. “I spilled my guts.”

  “Sally!”

  “Oh, all right. I hardly said a word.” She paused, mumbling something under her breath.

  Skye couldn’t let the matter drop. “Pardon me?” she asked firmly.

  “I said, I didn’t have to say a word. Billy told Kiley everything.”

  “Heaven help me,” Skye groaned.

  Glancing at her wristwatch, Sally stood. “I’ve got to rush, or I’ll be late. By the way, Kiley is being transferred to the third floor after dinner. You might stop by and say hello; it’s the only way you’ll be able to clear away any untruths.”

  Sally looked surprised at Skye’s laugh. “I just might do that.” Not for the world would she relate what had happened that afternoon, but by her own admission she was interested in Jordan Kiley.

  Flashing Skye an approving smile, Sally said, “You should wear the new blue dress we bought not long ago the next time you come. You’re quite a knockout in it.”

  Skye had no such intention. “Yes, Mother.”

  Unaffected by the heavy sarcasm, Sally laughed. “See you tomorrow.”

  The church choir was practicing an Easter cantata, and several members of the group were already present when Skye joined them.

  “Here’s our little songbird.” The male director smiled and handed her the sheet music.

  “At five foot ten, I can hardly be described as little,” she joked with the ease of familiarity. Others joined in the teasing banter, and the sound of laughter echoed across the empty church.

  The practice proceeded with only a few minor interruptions.

  Skye’s solo came before the final reprise; her rich, clear voice vibrated through the room with brilliant bravura.

  “I get chills down my spine every time you sing,” Mrs. Peterman, the organist, said as the choir was dismissed. “Have you ever considered singing professionally, dear?”

  Skye had been asked the question before and considered it a supreme compliment. But singing for money was something she’d never consider. She was perfectly content with the uncomplicated pattern of her life, and had no aspirations for fame and glory.

  “Some of us are going out for coffee. Will you join us, Skye?” the director asked.

  “Not tonight,” she apologized ruefully. “I’m visiting a … friend.” By now she thoroughly regretted the promise she’d made to stop by the hospital. Any contact with Jordan Kiley was asking for trouble, and it would be far better to avoid him.

  Walking swiftly to the hospital elevator, Skye didn’t consider stopping to visit Billy; it was after nine o’clock, and he was sure to be asleep. Besides, she didn’t feel up to Sally’s curiosity.

  Visiting hours had ended an hour earlier, and since she wasn’t well known by the third-floor nursing staff, they were sure to ask her to leave after only a few minutes anyway. She sighed in relief and stopped just long enough at the nurses’ station to ask Jordan’s room number and be sure they knew she was there.

  “It’s past visiting hours,” the nurse informed her disapprovingly after relaying the information.

  “I know. I’ll only be a few minutes,” Skye said, and beamed her one of her brightest smiles before starting down the silent corridor. About halfway down, raised voices could be heard. The most prominent, deep and rich, rumbled angrily with a cutting edge. It didn’t take Skye two seconds to recognize the voice as Jordan’s.

  “I can see you’re up to your persnickety ways, Simon Legree.” She stood stiffly in the open doorway. Both the nurse and Jordan turned their attention to her. A furrow of painful frustration lined the forehead of the red-faced nurse.

  The corners of Jordan’s mouth lifted in a half smile, thawing the cynical curve of his features. “Welcome, Pollyanna.”

  “Good evening, miss.” The nurse flashed Skye a grateful smile. “I’m afraid visiting hours are over.” The older woman calmly stepped to Jordan’s bed. “But I feel we can make an exception tonight if Mr. Kiley can be convinced to accept his medication.”

  The line of Jordan’s mouth tightened in grim disapproval. “I refuse to be blackmailed!” he spat.

  “In which case I’ll have to ask your friend to leave,” the nurse returned just as sharply.


  “Good-bye, Jordan.” Skye turned away from the door.

  A disgusted sound of exasperation came from his throat. “All right, I’ll take the darn pill, but I don’t like it.”

  Smiling, Skye unbuttoned her coat and laid it across ta chair while the nurse handed Jordan the pill and a glass of water. He had been transferred to a private room. It was spacious, containing two comfortably upholstered chairs and an end table with a lamp. Skye wondered at the expense. This was probably the only bed available, and she murmured a silent prayer that his insurance would cover the additional cost.

  The nurse winked on her way out the door, and when Skye turned to Jordan, his face was transformed from the heavy scowl to a welcoming grin. Her unsteady fingers looped a long curl of hair around her ear.

  “You should always leave your hair down. It’s lovely,” Jordan said, and watched with amusement as color suffused her face.

  Why had she ever let it down? It seemed to welcome comment; several people had mentioned it during the course of the evening, and by now she was thoroughly sorry and vowed it would be a long time before she did it again.

  “Thank you,” she replied stiffly, self-conscious and unsure. “Are you eating?” Her gaze followed the pattern of the linoleum floor.

  “No one has offered me any rewards or desserts.” The teasing quality of his voice was a mocking reminder of her game the night before.

  Her deep blue eyes crinkled in amusement and bounced away from the strong lines of his face. “Trickery and extortion seem to be the only effective means of dealing with that arrogant pride of yours.”

  “Ah, but if the food were better, your scheming wouldn’t be necessary.” His eyes held a dancing light. “What I wouldn’t give for a thick pizza and a cold beer.”

  Skye’s gaze was drawn back to him. The light dinner hadn’t satisfied her, and now her stomach growled hungrily. “Pizza does sound good, doesn’t it?”

  “Like heaven,” Jordan returned wistfully.

  “Italian sausage, mushroom, and black olive, covered with a thick layer of mozzarella cheese?”

  “Anchovies,” Jordan added.

  “Okay, but only on your half.” She sat, unzipped her boot, and pulled a small, flat plastic card from the bottom of the boot.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Getting out the card to pay for the pizza,” she replied, as if he were dense.

  “What pizza?” He sounded like an amnesia victim.

  “The Italian-sausage-mushroom-and-black-olive-with-anchovies-on-one-half pizza—the one I am going across the street to order and sneak inside this room,” she explained in one giant breath.

  His rueful smile became a soft chuckle. “Of course, I should have known—that pizza.”

  Skye laughed and limped on one shoeless foot to the door to peek down the hallway.

  “Now what are you doing?” he demanded in exasperation.

  “Checking the entrance to the stairs. I can’t use the elevator since it opens directly in front of the nurses’ station, and the only way I can avoid their eagle eyes is to take the stairs. That wasn’t a sleeping pill she gave you by any chance, was it?”

  “No, one of those blasted painkillers.” Anger reverberated in his husky voice.

  Zipping up her boot, Skye smiled reassuringly. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  Skye returned in far less time than she expected. She opened the door to Jordan’s room and closed it quietly behind her after she hurried inside, hoping to avoid attracting anyone’s attention. She was breathing hard from the exertion of running up three flights of stairs.

  “That didn’t take long.” Jordan’s head was drawn back, poised and alert.

  “They weren’t very busy.” She set the square cardboard box on the vanity.

  “Boy, that smells good,” he said, sighing, as she lifted the lid to the steaming pizza. “I think I’ll be able to manage on my own if you give me the pieces in a napkin.”

  “Okay, but if it’s awkward, I don’t mind feeding you,” she offered.

  The silence between them was serene as they ate. Skye smiled to herself a couple of times as she watched Jordan’s attempts to eat the pizza with his bandaged hand. Actually he was doing very well, and it surprised her. Perhaps she was making too much of this attraction. What harm would result from a budding friendship? What did she have to fear?

  “I hope you won’t find me unduly nosy,” Jordan said, his voice cutting into her thoughts, “but I was wondering if you always carry your money in your shoe.”

  “Do you think I have a foot fetish?” she questioned with a laugh, her tone matching the lightness of his. “Actually it’s a precautionary measure against muggers.”

  His thick brows arched.

  “San Francisco is one of the most beautiful, romantic cities in the world, but that doesn’t make us exempt from crime. I carry several single dollar bills in my wallet, and anything larger in my shoe. Brad, my older brother, worries about my living alone and advised me always to carry money in my purse just in case I do get mugged. Then the robber won’t beat me in frustration over an empty purse.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “No, I’m not,” she said, defending herself. “A girl alone in a big city, even a city as beautiful as San Francisco, is forced into a defensive stance. Crime is a fact of life, and after some of the stories my brother has told me, I’m ready to play it safe.”

  “Why do you do it then?” he mocked openly.

  “Do what?” She glanced up from her pizza.

  “Live alone. You’re an attractive, enticing blonde. Surely there’s some man standing on the sidelines just waiting for you to say the word.”

  His inquisitiveness quickly resurrected the barrier of humor she hid behind, and she responded with a hearty laugh. “You make my life sound like a football game. I hate to disappoint your curious nature, but there is no one waiting for my punt return.”

  Jordan raised a dubious brow, but smiled into her laughing eyes. “You think you’re pretty smart, don’t you?”

  “Without a doubt.” She wrinkled her nose and fluttered her eyelashes wickedly. She was having a good time, and smiled, unable to remember when she’d enjoyed an evening more. Perhaps she was enjoying it too much.

  “It’s after ten. I think I’d better go. I’m a working girl, you know, and there would be Hades to pay if I was found out now.” She was referring to the nurses.

  “I don’t want you to leave.” He studied her with a disturbing light in his eyes. “I don’t think there are many women in the world who would spend an evening visiting a demanding, ill-tempered invalid.”

  “There’s no need to thank me. I enjoyed it; it’s been fun.”

  “I owe you for the pizza.” His expression became strangely brooding, as if it were a great insult to his pride to have her pay for their meal.

  “Oh, no, please, it was my treat. You’re the one out of work—”

  “I can afford a pizza.” His mouth twisted with irritation.

  “I’m sure you can.” She sighed, drawing a deep breath. If anything, her insistence was doing more harm than good. Please, her eyes implored, let’s not ruin our time by arguing over something so petty.

  He flashed her a tender smile, his eyes holding hers magnetically. “You are very lovely.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise and her heart thundered against her ribs as her mind searched for some witty retort, but it was as if her senses had been struck numb. Self-consciously she lowered her head, the long, golden strands of hair falling forward, wreathing her flushed face. Just a few seconds before they had been teasing and joking; now, disconcertingly, they were on intimate terms.

  “Don’t, Jordan, please,” Skye whispered shakily.

  “Why not?” he asked quietly. “You’re a beautiful woman, inside and out.”

  Skye drew a steadying breath and quirked her eyebrows suspiciously. “I thought you broke your arm in the car accid
ent. I didn’t realize you had also suffered brain damage. Your tongue may be smooth, but you won’t have me believing out-and-out fantasy. I am no raving beauty.” Her voice shook slightly. “Besides being a virtual Amazon, did you happen to notice my schnozzle?” She placed her index finger on the tip of her nose, and crossed her eyes as if examining its extended length. “Good night, Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are.” With a theatrical gesture typical of Jimmy Durante, Skye stepped across the room to where her coat rested on the chair.

  A low, gravelly laugh shook Jordan’s shoulders. “Skye—” His laughing gray eyes suddenly became serious. “—come here,” he requested softly.

  “Not on your life,” she retorted.

  His round eyes feigned innocence. “You don’t trust me?”

  “No!” She finished buttoning her raincoat.

  “I’m still hungry,” he insisted.

  “Then ring for the nurse,” she suggested. “The hospital keeps a supply of snacks available.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of dessert.” He smiled provocatively. “I seem to have developed a sweet tooth lately.”

  Skye’s heart lodged somewhere near her throat at the suggestiveness of his tone.

  “In which case I suggest you go on a diet,” she countered smoothly, belying the uneven beat of her heart.

  Jordan chuckled softly. “Good night, my frightened little bird.”

  It was an accurate description. Her heart hammered fearfully against her ribs like a trapped, wild fledgling. Why she should experience such alarm was a mystery. Jordan Kiley was just a man. Rugged and compelling, but nonetheless a man not unlike a hundred others she had successfully parried in the past years.

  “Good night, Jordan,” she whispered, quietly closing the door after her.

  “Are you coming tomorrow?” he called brusquely.

  His sharp question brought her back inside the room. His eyes were directed solely upon her, and she frowned, confused by his barely concealed anger until she understood. His pride resented the necessity of asking her to return. She hovered uncertainly, just long enough for his face to twist into a scowl.

  Skye found herself incapable of meeting his gaze. “All right,” she said, nodding. “I’m working on the children’s ward until about eight. I’ll stop in after that.”