Among The Tulips

She glanced down at herself and winced, realizing just how dirty she was. “Maybe you should consider housing me with your horses,” she quipped, though half seriously.

“Won’t do. It’s been a while since I’ve had company, and I think I’m going to like you, Annie—”

“Hooper.”

“Yes. You told me. Annie Hooper. Therefore, housing you in the stables is out of the question. And you certainly can’t walk up those stairs. The doctor said to keep off your leg for at least a day.” He paused and scratched the bottom of his chin as he studied her.

Slightly embarrassed, she managed to turn and get her legs out of the car. She would simply force herself to walk, she decided. Surely she could, though it was likely her leg was awfully sore.

The driver offered Victor the pair of crutches, but Victor waved them off. “It looks like I’ll just have to carry you,” he pronounced.

“But—but I’m a size twelve!” Okay, she wore fourteens too, but she wasn’t telling him that. “You can’t possibly do that.”

“You can’t walk up those stairs. The medication—”

“Well, you can’t carry me,” she insisted.

He shrugged. “You don’t think I can do it?”

She gasped as he leaned toward her, and with a strong sure grip, hauled her up into his arms.

Grabbing his neck, she held on.

“Not so tight,” he said. “Move them to my shoulders, please.”

“I’ve never been carried before!” She decided to hug him. Leaning forward she moved her arms around his shoulders and buried her head in his neck.

“You were married before,” he commented.

“Harry never did this,” she said shaking her head.

“Well, then, haven’t you ever watched a romantic movie?” he complained.

She groaned.

He chuckled and started toward the stairs. “It looks like I have my work cut out for me.”

With that cryptic remark he started up the stairs and into the house where she would be staying for the next few days.

Chapter Three

Picking up a towel, Victor wiped the sweat from his face. He dropped it back over the side of the treadmill and continued walking. “The rest of this week isn’t good for me, Sean. How about we put it off until next week—or later?”

Victor reached up and adjusted the earpiece on his ear and then began to swing his arms in tandem with his steps.

“Sure, Jake,” Sean said, calling Victor by the name he was better known by: Jake Rivers. “But what is it that has you fobbing me off for later?”

Sean was British and a good friend. They’d both recently worked on their fourth project together. About four months ago actually. They’d been so busy they hadn’t seen each other since then. They were going to a movie premiere in two weeks, and they had decided Sean would come up early and spend some time relaxing before they were off to the premiere.

“I have company.”

“Oh?”

Victor sighed. “Yes.”

He knew a one-word answer wouldn’t cut it for his friend.

“Female company?” Sean asked, his accent very pronounced.

Victor changed his accent to match his friend’s. “It’s not what you think, dear boy,” he said dryly.

Sean laughed. “Then what is it? You have a female at your house and you don’t want company. Sounds like something is going on to me.”

Victor sobered. “I hit her in a head-on collision yesterday.”

“Were you injured?”

He heard the concern and knew his friend was worried. So was he, but about his guest not himself. “I’m fine. It wasn’t bad on my end, but the lady in question was a tourist and the wreck was my fault. I was avoiding a dog that ran out in front of me. She has a hairline fracture of her leg, according to the doctor, and a concussion.”

“So why is she residing in your house?” Sean asked, obviously wondering why Victor would take in someone he didn’t know.

“She doesn’t speak the language and is helpless.”

“Doesn’t speak the language?”

“She’s American.”

“Nasty Americans,” Sean muttered. “Uncultured and abhorrently uneducated when it comes to other languages and cultures.”

Victor was used to Sean’s attitude and simply ignored his friend. He switched tones and said mildly, “She needed help.”

“I say. Let me guess. The defensive tone suggests she’s another one of those stunning size threes with long dark hair and beautiful round eyes that usually end up on your arm. You just haven’t ‘put the moves on her yet,’ as you Americans would say.”

“You’d be wrong,” was all Victor was willing to reply to that blatant attempt to find out information on his guest. “And as I said, though I do find her interesting, I’m not attracted to her.” The cross around her neck still bothered him. He had expected the fire-and-brimstone lecture, the condemnation of his job and so on, but she hadn’t reacted that way. It had piqued his curiosity. So of course, that was his only interest—not her eyes or hair or anything else…

Sean gave up. “Okay, old chap. Have it your way. I’ll try to stay away the rest of the week, but expect me to show up on your doorstep ready for a game of squash and a nice swim in that indoor pool by Monday.”

Victor chuckled. “Thanks and see you then.” He reached up and disconnected the link.

He then pulled the earpiece off and placed it in a cubbyhole on the treadmill. Glancing down he saw he had less than five minutes to reach his goal and decided he’d done enough for today.

Turning off the machine, he stepped off.

Grabbing his towel and earpiece he headed toward the shower. He dropped both near the sink and stripped off his sweats and T-shirt.

Reaching into the stall, he turned on the shower and waited for the water to heat. Looking down at his abdomen he noted the injury he had received on the job he’d just finished seemed almost completely healed. A large ugly greenish yellow bruise was all that remained from where the wood had caught him unaware as it’d fallen.

Stepping into the shower he allowed the hot water to wash over him. He’d been stiff and sore this morning when he’d gotten up. Working out and then showering was making all the difference in the world.