A Little on the Wild Side, page 7
part #3 of Wild Thing Series
She had half a mind to give his dick a twist and see how he liked that.
Bianca freed her hand just as the nurse ran in.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Bianca had never seen Trapper blush before. He was definitely blushing now as he tucked in his shirt. “I was trying to kiss her awake, and things got out of hand.”
The nurse, who was old enough to be Bianca’s mother, raised an eyebrow, put a blood pressure cuff on Bianca’s arm, and tried to contain her laughter. “Maybe we should disconnect the monitors while he’s in the room, Ms. Ferrari. He’s enough to send any woman’s blood pressure through the roof.”
And wasn’t that the truth. Still, she didn’t want him to end up with a bigger ego than he already had. “Only if she’s unconscious.”
“Bianca.”
The way her name sounded when mixed with a pained growl brought a smile to her face. It was probably an evil smile—but hey, it worked for her. “He should come with a warning sign.”
“I can see that. The nurses have been enjoying your visitors, Ms. Ferrari, but not much work has been getting done. We’re not used to having male models coming and going.”
Trapper wore a somebody-pissed-in-his-beer expression mixed with something she couldn’t label. “Male models?”
A storm brewed behind Trapper’s always composed facade—shit, was he jealous?
The nurse nodded. “Yes, you and Ms. Ferrari’s other friend.”
The storm disappeared and was replaced by a cocky smirk. “I’m a judge, not a model.”
The nurse ripped the Velcro torture device off Bianca’s arm. “I think he missed his calling,” she mumbled.
Bianca didn’t bother covering her laugh.
“Bed rest has been ordered, Ms. Ferrari. Not play. At least not yet.”
“Tell him that. I was sound asleep.”
The nurse turned toward Trapper—probably to repeat herself.
He put his hand up to stop her. “I got the message. It won’t happen again until the monitors come off.” He shot the nurse a wicked grin. Bianca was sure he probably practiced it in the mirror. “Hey, is it my fault she gets carried away when I kiss her?”
“Yes,” she and the nurse said in stereo.
The nurse wrote something in her chart and gave Trapper a warning look that was ruined when she followed it up with a girlie sigh before exiting the room and leaving the door wide open.
Trapper cleared his throat. “I brought you a few things from home.” He put her bag on the bed, and she rummaged through it.
“You brought me a see-through nightgown?” She didn’t mention it was her favorite and the only one she could probably still fit into. She thought he’d throw together a T-shirt and a pair of sweats—yes, she had stooped that low. She needed something comfortable to wear around the house.
“It has a matching robe. And it’s not as if there were any others less revealing—believe me, I checked them all.” He leaned in close, so close she saw those gold starbursts in his green eyes, so close she wondered if he was going to kiss her again, so close, her heart monitor picked up speed. He wore that shit-eating grin—the one that formed an indentation in the side of his face and made her want to fill it with her tongue. “But damn, Bianca. I have to say, I do love your taste in lingerie.”
“Too bad I’ll never fit into it again.”
“Is that a bad thing?”
Was he stupid? “Yes, look at me. I’m huge.”
“You’re not huge—if anything, you’re too skinny. You’re ripe, you’re gorgeous, and you’re over-the-top sexy—even wearing a hospital gown. Only you can make a hospital gown look that good. I can’t wait to rip it off you.” He stepped away from the bed and closed the door to her room. He was back, leaning over her, and before she knew what he was up to, he’d untied the string holding the damn thing together.
“What are you doing?”
“Helping you change.”
“I don’t need help.”
He pulled her forward and got the second tie. “Sure you do. Now hurry up. The doctor will be in any minute.”
That was all she needed to hear. She slipped her hospital gown down, tucking it under her arms, and pulled the nightgown over her head.
“You cheated.”
“No, I just don’t play by your rules. There’s a difference.” She shimmied the silky gown down over her belly and raised her rump, tugging it under her before she pulled on the robe.
“Sweetheart, I know every inch of your body—intimately.”
How did he do that? With one look, one word in that deep gravelly voice, and her hormones were as out-of-control as a four-year-old let loose in a cotton candy factory. “You might have in the past, but now, there’s a whole lot more real estate.”
His smile widened, making him look a little intrigued, a little evil, and all kinds of hot. Damn, she was screwed.
“Just more of you to adore. For a little while, at least.”
“Yes, we won’t be together that long.”
“Oh, no, we’ll be together. But after you have the babies, you’ll lose most of that sexy belly.”
“We’ll only be together until I’m released from bed rest.”
Trapper crossed his arms over his chest and chuckled. Not a nice chuckle either.
“What’s so funny?”
“We’ll be together for much longer than that.”
“Three weeks. That’s all I’ve agreed to.”
“We’ll just have to see if I can change your mind.”
***
Trapper sat beside Bianca in the back of the Lincoln Town Car they’d rented and waited for her to notice they were headed to Teterboro and not her apartment.
She pushed her long hair over one shoulder while she looked through the tinted window. “Trapper, the driver’s going the wrong way.”
That didn’t take long. “No, he’s not.”
“What are you talking about? I’m on bed rest. Remember? Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you home.”
“My home is uptown, on the East Side.”
“I know.”
“Then why are we heading to the West Side?”
“I told you I was taking you home. My home.” Trapper held Bianca’s hand. He was half-afraid that if he released her, she’d run as soon as the car stopped at a light, and half-afraid she’d hit him. Either way, he wasn’t about to let her go.
“No.” She leaned forward, pressed the control, and lowered the glass between the driver and passengers. Fisher turned from the front passenger seat, shot Trapper a grin, and held out his hand. “You owe me a Benjamin. I told you it wouldn’t take two blocks before she figured it out.”
Trapper pulled the cash out of his pocket with his free hand and slapped it on Fisher’s open palm.
Fisher turned his grin to Bianca. “Hi, gorgeous. So I hear we’re taking a little trip. How ya feelin’?”
Bianca’s eyes widened, and her face paled. “Fisher? What are you doing here?”
“Me? I’m here to take care of you.”
Bianca’s eyebrows rose.
Fisher waggled his.
Trapper felt the rumble of a growl clear his throat.
Fisher continued as if he didn’t have one foot through death’s door. “In a medical sense, of course. I’m a doctor, remember?”
Bianca glared at him and then back to Fisher. “I thought you were an orthopedist.”
“I’m an MD with an orthopedic specialty. Still, I’ve seen my share of pregnant women. Don’t worry. You’re in good hands.”
“I’m not worried because I’m not going home with you or him. Now driver, turn this car around, and take me back to my apartment. I’m on Fifth Avenue between Seventy-Fourth and Seventy-Fifth.”
Hunter turned and grinned. “Hi, Bianca. I wish I could help you out, but no can do. We’re heading to Teterboro. James is meeting us there. He wanted to say good-bye. Everyone’s waiting for you. Oh, and congratulations, by the way.”
“Everyone?” Bianca was pale before. Now she looked ghostly.
Trapper groaned and reached for an airsickness bag. The last thing he wanted was to lose another hat.
Fisher’s smile widened, if that was possible. “Oh yeah.” He winked at Trapper. “We’ve got a full plane. It’s gonna be like old times.”
Bianca swallowed hard, grabbed the bag, and snapped it open before sitting back in the seat, quiet and subdued. She leaned against the leather headrest. He wasn’t sure if she was taking one for the team, or if she was planning his murder. He had a feeling he’d be paying for this stunt for a long time—a long, long, long, long time. It was unfortunate, but how the hell else would he get Bianca on a plane to Boise? She’d given him no choice.
“I can’t believe you’re kidnapping me.”
He pulled her closer, wrapping his arm around her waist. Her head rolled onto his shoulder. If she were going to be sick, he’d end up wearing it. At that point, he didn’t care. He had a change of clothes, and Lord knew it wouldn’t be the first time someone threw up on him. He was pretty sure it wouldn’t be the last either. “Come on, sweetheart. Kidnapping is such a strong word. I like to think of it as the gift of a surprise trip. It’s romantic.”
“Romantic? You think this is romantic?”
“Need I remind you that the only reason you were released from the hospital was because I said you’d have round-the-clock care for the next three weeks? As much as I’d like to, I can’t do that in New York. Sweetheart, I have a job. I’ve taken two weeks off, but I have to go back to work on the sixteenth. In Boise, we have plenty of family who are only too happy to help.”
“Your family hates me.”
“No, they don’t. Toni loves you. Fisher’s wife, Jessie, hasn’t met you, but I’m sure you’ll get along well. And everyone loves my mom. I think you met my mother, Kate, at Hunter and Toni’s wedding.”
“I did. Believe me, she’s not a fan.”
“She doesn’t know you.”
Bianca gave him her pissed-off-supermodel look, but it lost something since she’d turned green. With the weight loss, her cheekbones stood out in sharp relief against her pallid skin, making her look more like a vulnerable waif—if a waif could stand almost six feet tall. “Trapper, don’t make me out to be anything but what I am. I’m no damsel in distress. I’m a pissed off, pregnant diva on hormonal overload who routinely eats men up and spits them out in the boardroom and the bedroom. Don’t fuck with me.”
“Sweetheart, I’ve already have, and you enjoyed it. I plan to do it again at the first opportunity. I can’t tell you how much I’m looking forward to you returning the favor. I know you, Bianca. I might not know all of you, but I know what’s an act and what’s not. And believe me, I’m not being facetious when I call you sweetheart. You’re sweet. Granted, you hide it well—hell, I might have even missed it if I wasn’t looking closely. But you, my sweet, are my favorite subject to study. And so far, everything I’ve learned makes me just want you more.”
***
Bianca was awakened by sweet kisses on her forehead. She burrowed deeper into Trapper’s chest and breathed him in. His beard brushed her skin and sent a series of sparks cascading through her.
“Come on, Sleeping Beauty, your carriage awaits.”
Carriage? What was he talking about? Then all the pieces fell into place.
She was being kidnapped.
She was pissed.
She’d been betrayed. But she was too tired to fight it.
The door opened, and the smell of jet fuel filled her nostrils, sending her salivary glands into overdrive a nanosecond before she was hit with a tsunami of nausea. She tried to swallow. The pressure of her clothes on her throat engaged the gag reflex, and the bag she reached for lost the race with the rising tide of bile. She gripped the handle of the open door, leaned over, and puked—all over a fancy pair of cowboy boots. She looked up to find an octogenarian in a western-style suit complete with bolo tie smiling down at her. She couldn’t speak. She was too busy trying to avoid a repeat performance.
Trapper made soothing noises and rubbed her back. It was nice, but she still wanted to reach around and tie his dick in a knot.
She breathed through her mouth and tasted the jet fuel hanging in the air. It was no use. She lost yet another battle with her stomach. At least the old man was smart enough and quick enough to step away, though his boots were already ruined.
“I suppose I’m happier to see you than you are to see me.” He handed her a handkerchief and called over his shoulder. “You got any ginger ale in the plane, Marge? Send a can down, will you?”
Trapper had grabbed her hair and continued rubbing her back. “Hi, Gramps.”
Great. She’d just puked all over the boots of Big Joe Walsh. The two hundred eighty-fourth richest man in the world now wore the previous contents of her stomach.
He rapped on the top of the car. “Pull up a few feet son. We wouldn’t want the little lady to have to step in it.”
The old man didn’t bother closing the door, something she was grateful for since she still had her head hanging out. The grip Trapper had on her waist tightened, and the car rolled forward. A second later, she heard a soda being opened, and the cold can came in contact with her hand. “Sip it slowly, then we’ll give you a peppermint candy. Peppermint and ginger are great for what ails you.”
“Thank you.” She forced herself to meet his eyes. “I’m so sorry about your boots, Mr. Walsh.”
“Don’t you worry about it. It’s not the first time I’ve been christened, and with you having my great-grandbabies, it won’t be the last.” He beamed at her. “And call me Joe, or Gramps. Welcome to the family, little lady.”
“But I’m not—We’re not—”
Joe waved a hand. “Now, don’t go gettin’ yourself all riled up. You’re carrying my great-grandbabies, and that makes you family.” He held her arm in a surprisingly strong grip and helped her out of the car. “Let’s get you settled in the plane and get a little something in your stomach.” He put his arm around her and led her over the tarmac toward a Gulf Stream. “Marge has been cookin’ up a storm just waitin’ for your arrival.” He steered her around a patch of ice. Her cape whipped in the bitter wind. “We’ll have a light lunch with James before we take off. That boy’s wringin’ his hands. He’s been worried sick about you. Try to remember he only has your best interest at heart.”
“He—”
“I know.” He patted her back. “But put yourself in James’s shoes. He loves you like family, and when you passed out the way you did, you scared ten years off his life. He feels responsible, and he’s man enough to know that, right now, he’s not able to take care of you. We are, and that’s just what we’re gonna do. So don’t be too hard on James.”
“I’m not—”
“Of course not.” He smiled, and his eyes twinkled. “You save all that fire I see in your eyes for my grandson, Trapper. Now, that boy’s a different story. You can give him all the hell you can stir up. Save me from having to box his ears.”
“Excuse me?”
“Don’t get me wrong. I’m happier than a dog with two peckers about you and those babies, but I raised that boy better than to get a beautiful girl like you in trouble.”
“I’m not—”
“Oh, I know times have changed, but right is right and wrong is wrong. There are some things that don’t change with the times, little lady, and bringing babies into this world is one of them things.” He slipped his arm around what was left of her waist and tugged her close to his side. “Now watch these steps. They can be a little slippery.”
She grabbed the cold railing, wondering just what had happened. “But your boots—”
“Never liked those damn boots anyway. But if you tell my Katie I said that, I’ll call you a liar. She keeps hiding my favorites in the back of my closet. Now you’ve given me the perfect excuse to put them back into rotation. Shit, when I finally have a pair broken in just right she starts harpin’ on me about lookin’ like a street person. She wouldn’t know a street person from the King of Siam.”
“You still grousing about mom hiding your boots, Gramps?” Fisher came up the steps and winked at Bianca. “He’s all talk when mom’s not around. When he’s within smacking distance, he’s afraid of her.”
Joe collected her coat and handed it to the flight attendant. “Don’t listen to Fisher. Just because he’s afraid of his mama, doesn’t mean I am. No, Katie knows who wears the pants in my household.”
Hunter poked his head through the door. “Mom does.”
Bianca had been in plenty of private jets. Still, she had to admit, this topped them all. Especially when she took in the amount of pure testosterone contained in a relatively small area. She looked around for James—he was probably hiding. “Where’s Trapper?”
Hunter grinned. “I left him with the luggage. That will teach him to pack like a woman.”
James popped his head out of what was probably the bathroom. “He did pack for a woman.”
“Yeah, and he can haul it. But be our guest, James. Do the honors if you feel so strongly about it.”
James jumped at the chance to escape and brushed by her. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”
Fisher took her elbow. “Let’s get you situated, and I’ll do a quick blood pressure check before lunch. After we get up to cruising altitude, you can finish your nap. We have a bedroom in the back.”
“But your grandfather’s boots—I should clean them.”
He opened a medical bag and took out his tools of torture. “You’re on bed rest, remember? Besides, did you see those boots before you ralphed on them? You really did do him a favor. Now Trap’s gonna have to replace them with a pair Gramps actually likes.”
“Oh, no. I’ll replace them. I insist.”
Fisher just laughed. “Yeah, don’t waste your breath unless you want to press all of Trapper’s buttons. Then go on. Just be sure to let me watch.” Fisher gave her his toothpaste commercial grin, rolled up her sleeve, and then draped a stethoscope over his neck. “So I’m sure Dr. Schaeffer told you to decrease your salt intake, increase your fluids, get a lot of rest, no work, no stress.”
