Just then a dark green Suburban pulled into the pick up zone and glided to a halt behind the taxi. Selena didn’t need to see the Conroe Ranch logo on the side to know Morgan had arrived to thwart her plan.
He left the engine running and got out, taking a moment to walk briskly to the cab driver. A quick word and a handshake, which she knew would discretely pass the driver a large denomination bill for his trouble, effectively closed her single avenue of escape. And then Morg was striding around the back of the taxi to where she and her things were parked by the curb.
Morgan’s low, “Hey there, Selly,” and the faint smile that softened the harsh line of his mouth implied friendship and closeness, and Selena’s gaze shot away from his. The sweet nostalgia of hearing him call her by the old nickname caught her by surprise and brought back a wealth of good times best forgotten that contrasted sharply with her anger at him now.
The weariness that gripped her only stoked her outrage at his high-handedness and her failure to thwart it. Both the nostalgic feelings and her anger combined to create a churn of upset that drained her even more. Her head was pounding again, and all she wanted to do was crawl into a cave somewhere to escape both the pain and all things Conroe.
As Morgan directed the nurse and the aide to wheel her and the cart to his SUV, Selena felt her frustration rush higher. She couldn’t imagine what all this was about. For more than two years, she’d heard nothing directly from Morg, though she knew he had her address because she received profit checks from her small share of Conroe Ranch.
In two years there’d been no communication, certainly no apology or overture of friendship, but suddenly here he was, barging into her life as if he had some right to. That was hard enough to understand, but he clearly meant to take over.
Because she wasn’t certain how much the nurse knew about the conditions of her release, the last thing Selena wanted was for her to involve the doctor, so it was best to say nothing now. Morgan had easily guessed that, and she hated the power that gave him.
Morgan handled the nurse with the gallant good ol’ boy charm he used to his advantage, and Selena waited impotently as the nurse set the wheelchair brake and flipped the footrests out of the way. With the woman’s help, Selena stood to her feet.
Morgan opened the passenger door, then turned to her. Selena tried not to flinch when he took her elbow.
Her quiet, “I want to go home, Morg,” made his faintly smiling expression harden the tiniest bit. No one looking on would note that, but she had because she’d learned well from long experience to recognize that first wisp of storm cloud.
“We’ll stop by your place to pick up a few things.”
Selena didn’t say another word, but she had no intention of picking up anything or going anywhere but her apartment. The ride to her building wouldn’t take too long. Once she was there and no one was around to hear, she’d simply make it clear to Morgan that she wouldn’t go to the ranch.
If all else failed, she should at least be able to lock herself in her bedroom and climb into bed. It aggravated her to think she was capable of so little, but since she was fading fast now, she was certain to fall instantly to sleep the moment she laid down. And once she was comfortably settled, she doubted very much that Morg would take her out of bed and carry her off. He was familiar enough with injuries and concussions to know how vital rest was.
Selena was forced to allow Morgan’s supporting hand as she took the two small steps from her wheelchair. Once she had, she pulled away and tried to get a handhold to climb up into the tall vehicle.
Morgan gently caught her, managing to pick her up and place her on the seat without hurting her. Though she would have liked to object, the rational part of her brain was grateful she hadn’t had to climb up under her own power.
Morgan swiftly buckled her seat belt before she could do it for herself, then backed away to firmly close the passenger door while Selena struggled against the excitement that lingered simply because she’d been in his arms a few seconds. She’d actually felt the tingling heat through her clothes when the back of his fingers skimmed across her stomach and hip as he’d secured her seat belt.
After days of hurting and years of secretly missing him, being held and touched by Morgan had been completely welcome and wonderful, so wonderful that she’d have to work harder than ever to keep him from guessing his effect on her.
Selena waited, her head leaned against the headrest and her eyes closed as Morg opened the back of the big vehicle to put her flowers and plants inside. She heard the rattle of the plastic bag, then the solid thud of the door closing. A few seconds later, Morgan was getting in on the driver’s side. He buckled up then slowly pulled the big vehicle away from the curb. The effortless movement of the SUV as it accelerated pressed her back into the seat.
Her headaches had been mellowing, but after this small exertion just now, her head ached with a vengeance. That’s when the significance of riding in a vehicle struck her and she opened her eyes to uneasily watch the street beyond the windshield, particularly upcoming intersections.
Though the high profile SUV was quite unlike her much smaller car—her totally wrecked car—she was on edge. And though the big vehicle moved smoothly, the growing dizziness the movement caused made her faintly nauseous.
It seemed to take forever to go the three miles to her apartment building, and by the time they got there, Selena was carsick. Reluctant to move even after Morgan parked at the curb, Selena concentrated on breathing steadily as she waited for the nausea to calm.
“Why the hell didn’t you say something?”
There was a wealth of impatience in Morgan’s growl, but also a wealth of regret that Selena tried to ignore. The good part about getting carsick was that Morgan would surely see that she’d never be able to tolerate the long drive to the ranch. At least there’d be no need to summon the energy to oppose him.
“You told me never to give the time of day to men who swear in my presence.” She took what satisfaction she could in the brief silence before he spoke.
“You’re like a cat in the wild that’s got hurt and can’t afford to look weak. Puff up and growl as much as you like.” The blunt words were, as usual, dead on. “How much food have you got on your stomach?”
“Want to find out?” The bit of defiance actually helped mellow her roiling middle. The interior of the big vehicle went silent again except for the muted rumble of the engine and the faint whir of the air-conditioning.
The subtle vibration of the idling engine probably prevented a quicker recovery from the nausea, but at last it ebbed and Selena wearily lifted her head from the headrest and forced her eyes to open.
Morgan took that as a sign she was ready, because he got out of the truck and came around to her side. She managed to get her keys out of her handbag, but when he opened the passenger door, he smoothly took them. She was about to climb down on her own when he reached for her.
Selena braced a hand against his chest to ward him off. “I can walk.”
Morgan took her hand and cautiously lifted it to wrap her arm around his neck.
“That hurt?”
Selena glared into his blue gaze. “I said, I can walk.”
“It’ll hurt less to pick you up from here than it will be when those knees give out.” With that, Morg plucked her off the seat, stepped back, then pushed the passenger door closed with his boot.
This time his musky aftershave scent filled her nostrils and the sensation of being cradled securely against him made her hurting body forget its various aches and pains.
The cotton of his shirt did little more than add a textured veneer over the warm, hard flesh and iron muscle of the shoulders beneath her bare forearm and palm. Selena tried to keep her gaze away from Morgan’s harsh profile as he effortlessly strode up the front walk to the door of