Linda Howard - Loving Evangeline

“Of course you can,” he said gently. “But you won’t, because I’m driving you.”

She gave him a distracted look as she dialed her sister’s number. “That isn’t necessary—Becky. Listen, Jason slipped on the dock and cut his head. He’s going to be okay, but he needs stitches, and the paramedics are taking him to the hospital. They’re leaving now. I’ll meet you there. Yes, I’m bringing Paige with me. Okay. Bye.”

She hung up, then lifted the receiver and dialed another number. “Craig, this is Evie. Can you take over the marina for a couple of hours? Jason’s had an accident, and I’m going with him to the hospital. No, he’ll be okay. Five minutes? Great. I’m leaving now.”

Then, moving swiftly, she got her purse from under the counter and fished out her keys. Like lightning, Robert caught her hand and calmly removed the keys from her grasp. “You’re too shaky,” he said in a gentle, implacable tone. “You came close to drowning yourself. Don’t fight me on this, Evie.”

It was obvious that she lacked the strength to physically fight him for the keys. Frustrated, she gave in rather than waste more time. “All right.”

She drove a sturdy, serviceable four-wheel-drive pickup, handy for pulling boats up a launch ramp. Paige raced ahead to scramble inside, as if afraid she would be left behind if she didn’t beat them to the vehicle. Evie was only grateful that the child automatically slid to the middle of the seat, positioning herself between Evie and Robert and hastily buckling herself in.

“It’s a straight shift,” she blurted unnecessarily as she buckled her own seat belt.

He gave her a gentle smile as he started the engine. “I can manage.”

Of course, he did more than manage. He shifted gears with the smooth expertise of someone who knew exactly what he was doing. Evie’s heart gave a little thump as she tried to imagine Robert Cannon being awkward at anything.

She forced herself to watch the road, rather than him, as she gave directions to the hospital. She didn’t want to look at him, didn’t want to feel that primal pull deep inside her. He was dripping wet, of course, his black hair plastered to his head and his white silk shirt clinging to his muscled torso like a second skin. His leanness was deceptive; the wet shirt revealed the width of his shoulders and chest, and the smooth, steely muscles of his abdomen and back. She thought the image of him, the outline of his body, was probably branded on her mind for all eternity, as was everything else that had happened in the last fifteen minutes. Only fifteen minutes? It felt like a lifetime.

He drove fast, pulling into the hospital parking lot right behind the ambulance. The hospital was small but new, and he couldn’t fault the staff’s response. Jason was whisked into an examining room before Evie could reach his side to speak to him.

Firmly Robert took her arm and ushered both her and Paige to seats in the waiting area. “Sit here,” he said, and though his voice was mild, that implacable tone was in it again. “I’ll get coffee for us. How about you, sweetheart?” he asked Paige. “Do you want a soft drink?”

Dumbly Paige nodded, then shook her head. “May I have coffee, too, Aunt Evie?” she whispered. “I’m cold. Or maybe hot chocolate.”

Evie nodded her agreement, and Robert strode to the vending machines. She put her arm around Paige and gathered her close, knowing that the girl had suffered a shock at seeing her brother almost die. “Don’t worry, honey. Jason will be home by tomorrow, probably, griping about his headache and driving you up the wall.”

Paige sniffed back tears. “I know. I’ll get mad at him then, but right now I just want him to be okay.”

“He will be. I promise.”

Robert returned with three cups, one filled with hot chocolate and the other two with coffee. Evie and Paige took theirs from him, and he settled into the chair on Evie’s other side. When she sipped the hot brew, she found that he had liberally dosed it with sugar. She glanced at him and found him watching her, gauging her reaction. “Drink it,” he said softly. “You’re a little shocky, too.”

Because he was right, she obeyed without argument, folding her cold fingers around the cup in an effort to warm them. Her wet clothes were uncomfortably chilly here in the air-conditioned hospital, and she barely restrained a shiver. He should be cold, too, she thought, but knew that he wasn’t. His arm touched hers, and she felt heat radiating through his wet clothing.

As slight as it was, he felt the shiver that raced through her. “I’ll get a blanket for you,” he said, rising to his feet.

She watched him approach the desk and speak to the nurse. He was courteous, restrained, but in about thirty seconds he was returning with a blanket in his hands. He had an air of natural command, she thought. One look into those icy green eyes and people scurried to do his bidding.

He bent over her to tuck the blanket around her, and she let him. Just as he finished, the emergency room doors swung open and her sister, Rebecca, hurried inside, looking tense and scared. Seeing Evie and Paige, she changed her direction to join them. “What’s happening?” she demanded.

“He’s in the treatment room now,” Robert answered for Evie, his deep voice as soothing as when he’d talked to Paige. “He’ll have a few stitches in the back of his head, and a bad headache. They’ll probably keep him overnight, but his injuries are relatively minor.”

Rebecca turned her shrewd brown eyes on him and bluntly demanded, “Who are you?”

“This is Robert Cannon,” Evie said, making an effort to appear calm as she made the introductions. “He dragged both Jason and me out of the water. Mr. Cannon, this is my sister, Rebecca Wood.”

Rebecca took in Robert’s wet clothes, then looked at Evie, seeing the strain on her sister’s pale face. “I’ll see about Jason first,” she said in her usual decisive manner. “Then I want to know exactly what happened.” She turned and marched toward a nurse, identified herself and was directed to the treatment room where Jason was located.

Robert sat down beside Evie. “What branch of the military was your sister in?” he asked, provoking a nervous giggle from Paige.

“I think it’s called motherhood,” Evie replied. “She began practicing on me at an early age.”

“She’s older, I presume.”

“Five years.”

“So you’ve always been ‘baby sister’ to her.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure you don’t. Drink your coffee,” he admonished, lifting the cup himself and holding it to her lips.

Evie drank, then gave him a wry glance. “You aren’t bad at the mother-hen routine yourself.”

He allowed himself a slight smile. “I take care of my own.” The words were a subtle threat—and a warning, if she were astute enough to hear it.

She didn’t make the obvious retort, that she wasn’t “his”; instead she withdrew, sinking back in her chair and staring straight ahead. Jason’s close call had brought too many old memories to the surface, making it difficult for her to deal with anything just now, much less Robert Cannon. Right now, what she wanted most of all was to crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head, shutting out the world until she felt capable of facing it again. Maybe by the time night came, certainly by tomorrow, she would be all right. Then she would worry about the way he had taken over and about the gentle possessiveness that she couldn’t fight. With Cannon, Evie was beginning to link gentleness with an implacable force of will that let nothing stand in his way. He would be tender and protective, but he would not be thwarted.

They sat in silence until Rebecca came out of the treatment room to rejoin them. “They’re keeping him overnight,” she said. “He has a slight concussion, a big shaved spot on the back of his head and ten stitches. He also won’t say exactly what happened, other than mumbling that he fell. What’s he trying to hide from me?”