A Knight in Central Park(8)

“Did you see that gorgeous man?” Shelly asked. “Was that Alexandra’s doctor?”

Joe’s temples throbbed. “Yes, and I didn’t see a ring on his finger. I need to go. Here,” he said, stuffing his keys into Shelly’s hand. “You take my car and I’ll catch a cab. I filled out the required forms and told the hospital staff to bill me. See if they can keep Alexandra overnight. If it will make you feel better, I’ll come back tomorrow and find her a place to stay. One of those shelters for women...or something like that.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Shelly said, “but don’t think I won’t remember this. You owe me one.”

Joe shot her a quick smile before he took off down the hall toward the open elevator.





Chapter Four



You may delay, but time will not.

—Benjamin Franklin

The fullness of the moon lit up the street as Joe handed the cab driver a twenty. Joe took his change and headed toward his condo. Shuffling his hands in his pockets, he remembered at that moment that he’d given Shelly his car keys, which meant she also had the keys to his house.

Damn. Nothing had gone right all day. He’d missed an important meeting this morning, he’d run over a homeless woman, his girlfriend, Suzanne, was no longer speaking to him, and now he’d have to break into his own home.

The bedroom window on the east side had a flimsy latch. He’d try that first. His feet crunched on the icy snow as he made his way around the side of the building.

Sirens wailed in the distance.

He jiggled the window frame, congratulating himself when the lock came loose. Hoping not to wake his neighbor, Mrs. Peacock, he took his time raising the wood frame an inch at a time. Once the window was wide enough to fit his body, he got a good solid grip on the windowsill and pulled himself headfirst through the opening, slithering to the ground like a snake.

Sprawled out on the floor on his belly, he immediately sensed someone lurking in the shadows. He heard a movement to his right and saw a flash of glinting metal just before something hard connected with his head. A shocking bolt of pain pierced through his skull, and he quickly faded into oblivion.





Joe put a hand to his head and felt a knot the size of a walnut. What the hell happened? His head jerked up at the idea that the intruder was still in the room. His eyes quickly adjusted to the dark. Though his vision was blurred, there was no mistaking the woman hovering over him. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The woman he’d left in the hospital hours ago had somehow tracked him down and snuck into his house. “What the hell did you do that for?” he asked. “And what are you doing in my home?”

“No need to curse,” Alexandra scolded. “Your assistant brought me here.”

He glared at her.

“How was I to know it was you?”

His blood surged as he sat up. “I live here.”

“Shelly assured me you would enter through the front entry if you were to come home.”

“I would have come through the front entry,” he said through clenched teeth, “if I had had my keys.”

“Perhaps next time you will remember them.”

Examining the knot on his head with his fingertips, he tried to think of a clever reply. No such luck. As his vision became less hazy, he realized she looked different. She wore a floor length cotton nightgown and her hair, a mass of fiery red curls, fell over her shoulders like a silk shawl.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “What are you gawking at?”

Tired, frustrated, and in pain, Joe attempted to shake his head in annoyance, but it hurt too much. Instead, he lifted himself to his feet, grabbed the robe slung over the end of the bed, and tossed it to her. “Nothing,” he growled. He then stepped closer to her, leaned his body into hers, ignoring her gasps, perhaps even enjoying them as he reached around her, quite slowly and quite purposefully as he quite innocently switched on the lamp.

“There,” he said, stepping back. “Is something wrong?”

She pushed her arms into the robe and pulled the sash tight. “Are you asking me if something is amiss?”

“No. I’m asking you if something is wrong.”

“Must you always speak like a jackanapes, Sir Joe?”

A twitch set in his jaw. “Just call me Joe.”

She just stood there, stiff and unbending.

He shook his head, wincing at the pain such a small movement caused. “Unbelievable.”