"But why hasn't he reached out either?" Vivian asked, dropping the knife and turning to face Megan, "He just hung up and never reached out again. He didn't even try to hold on or fight for me. He left like he'd been wanting a reason to leave and I handed it to him." The tears were flowing again, and now she was sobbing. "Oh, I hate him so much, Megan. I miss him so much and I love him. I love him, Megan and I hate that I do" Megan wrapped her hands around her, letting her sob on her shoulder until she was gasping softly. "You could call him…." Megan suggested softly as she rubbed her back but Vivian shook her head. "No" she said, "I have to let him go. With or without the other lady in the picture, it would never work between us. He doesn't want a real relationship and I want more. I want a commitment and he's not willing to give me that. I will have to get over him one way or another. Might as well be now. I just don't understand why it has to be so hard."________Scott entered
No, he wasn’t Bruce—could never deliberately deceive and devastate someone, then walk away from a child he’d created—but he’d also blackmailed, hurt, used Jennifer, then turned his back on Vivian… the woman he loved.God. He loved her.The force of the revelation struck him with the blow of a mallet to the chest. He sank to his chair, staring blindly ahead.He loved Vivian .Somehow, despite every wall, every barrier and shield he’d thrown up, she’d wedged herself into his heart, his soul. No wonder he’d felt so empty these past days. The one who’d given him life again was gone. Because, yes, she’d resuscitated him, jolting his heart so it beat. She’d given him more than work to be excited about—she’d given him her quiet humor, her defiance, her wit, her loyalty, her body…her love. And what had he done? Thrown it back at her like it meant nothing."I realize now that you don't even respect me enough to give me answers to questions like this… because I'm nothing but a hook up to you"
Vivian gave a ghostly smile. "When can I see him?" "I’ll take you to him now." It was like some surreal nightmare as she followed the nurse through the spotless, soundless and gleaming unit until they finally stopped outside a cubicle.Through the glass, Vivian could see Scott lying as still as death on the bed and she jammed her fis into her mouth and gave a soundless little cry. Her Scott— her strong, powerful Scott—with all that vitality just zapped away."What can I do?" she whispered. "To help him?" "Talk to him. Stroke his hand. Remind him of things you’ve done together. Try to bring him back." Remind him of things you’ve done together. The words haunted her as she fearfully made her way towards the bed, towards that still and silent figure.What shared memories did they have which might stir his sleeping mind? But the only ones she could think of were not the deep and meaningful memories which would arouse a man from a coma. Great sex and glitzy restaurants were not the kin
"I can get myself dressed!" he protested. "Not yet, you can’t," the nurse fussed. "You’re as weak as a kitten, although I must say that you don’t particularly look as weak as a kitten!" "Why can’t Vivian help me?" he demanded, his heart sinking as he saw the nurse begin to roll her sleeves up over her rather hefty forearms. He’d much rather that dark-haired angel be at hand.The nurse coughed. "Well, she was a little taken-aback when you didn’t recognise her, of course—but, as I told her, that’s perfectly normal in these circumstances." "You mean I know her?" The nurse helped him with his jeans and began to get rather pink around the neck."Yes, Scott" said Vivian, in an odd, strained kind of voice as she walked into the room. "You do know me—you just can’t remember." Scott was still feeling groggy, but not too groggy to wonder how well he had known her."Here." Vivian began to slide a sweater over his head, her fingers automatically colliding with the silken flesh, and she saw h
Scott drank his tea. It was very comfortable here by the fire—warm and welcoming. If only his head didn’t feel as though someone had jammed it in between a giant nutcracker, and in the process managed to take away some of the thoughts and associations and familiarity which made him what he normally was. But how did he know what he normally was? He didn't know what to believe. He still had childhood memories. He knew his family and his job, but most memories of the past months were missing so he was confused. He put the cup down and looked at Vivian, which was halfway to a cure in itself. She was wearing a soft wool dress, the color of blueberries, and her hair was loose—like the moon against the backdrop of a nearly dark sky. Her legs were spread in front of her and she had kicked her shoes off. He might be only two days out of a coma, but that didn’t mean that all his senses were dead. He might have a little difficulty wanting food as he usually did, but the stirring leap of awarene
With Scott it had never been more than what they had today. And while that made her appreciate what she had got, it also made her long for what she had not. Commitment—and that was one thing she would never get from him."I’ll sleep next door for the time being. I think you need a little space," she said lightly.And so did she.He pulled a face of objection, but he was too tired to object too much. He lay down on the bed and it felt like heaven."Okay," he yawned. "If you say so." But within a couple of weeks he began to show very definite signs of improvement—physically, at least. The sleep showed in the renewed brightening of his eyes and the familiar healthy glow of his skin. Often they took him outside, to sit in the restorative sunshine and to sit quietly in the haven which Felicia's garden provided. He was eating proper meals, too—the freshest, most delicious food that Felicia and sometimes Vivian could conjure up.She put two plates of salmon down on the table one evening and
He sucked in a low breath of appreciation as she stood before him wearing nothing but flimsy underwear of soft green lace, her skin gleaming like silk. Her breasts spilled over the low-cut bra and the matching knickers made her legs seem to go on and on forever.He must have seen her like this before and yet it seemed as though he had never really looked at her. Never appreciated the satin fall of the dark hair which tumbled all over her shoulders."Dear God," he murmured. "You are unbelievable. Unbelievable." "No, I’m real." She began to unbutton his shirt."You’re wearing all this, while I’m not wearing nearly enough," she complained.He gave a low laugh, sucking in his breath as her palms skated light, sensuous circles over his nipples. "You’re wearing too much, oh, Vivian—" This as she unzipped his trousers and teased her fingertips over his straining hardness. He slid his hand between her thighs and her eyes widened in helpless pleasure as he began to move his fingertips agains
He had changed. The dark eyes were no longer so restless. The glittering, predatory eyes of the shark had gone.But a jolt to his memory might bring them back, surely? And the coldly ambitious Scott McCall might reemerge from the chrysalis of his coma."Ready?" she asked.He drifted his hand over her hair and followed it with the butterfly touch of his lips on the back of her neck. "Maybe we should go back to bed for a while?" he murmured.Vivian closed her eyes, tempted. If there was one thing that Scott had recovered quickly, it was his prowess as a lover. "But we’ve only just got up!" she objected."The doctor said that I was to rest as much as possible." "I think that your idea of rest and the doctor’s are not quite the same thing." Vivian replied. Reluctantly, she pulled her neck away. "Shall we drive or shall we walk for a while? We can order a cab later to my place or call your driver." "Walk," said Scott. "You won’t get too tired?" "Vivian," he sighed. "I’m fine. You know,