A Perfect Trade (Harlequin Superromance) (4 page)

Why did he have to look so good? A faded red Ice Cats T-shirt stretched across Tru’s broad chest, showing off his toned arms and flat stomach. Blue jeans, worn almost white in parts—all the right parts—molded to his powerful legs and his fine backside. Her pulse fluttered; she’d always been one for great legs.

Stop!
She dragged her gaze away, giving herself a stern talking-to. What was wrong with her? The fertility hormones had to be messing with her brain.

“Hi, Karina.” She hugged the older woman. “How are you?”

“I’m fine. I had to get my blood pressure medicine refilled. One of the good things about my boys not being in the play-offs is they can help me run errands.” She winked.

Before Jenny could respond, Tru joined them.

“Jenny.” He nodded coolly.

“Tru.” Her acknowledgment was equally cool.

“Ma, your prescription will be ready in a few minutes. Mr. Jordan says you need to remember to take the tablets every day, otherwise they won’t do you much good.”

Karina waved a hand dismissively. “I’m only taking the medicine to keep Dr. Harris happy. I’m as fit as a violin.”

His mouth quirked at the corner. “Fit as a fiddle, Ma.”

“Fiddle, violin. It’s the same, no?”

“Close enough.” He shared an amused look with Jenny.

Though Karina had been in America for most of her adult life, she still mixed up phrases. Back when he was a teenager, Tru’d been embarrassed by his mother’s mistakes. But Jenny, who had missed her own mother terribly, had helped him see that it was cool to have a mother who was different.

The warmth of the shared memory made her pulse flutter again.

“Karina Jelinek,” the pharmacy assistant called out.

“I’ll get it, Ma. Be right back.” Tru strode back to the counter.

Jenny felt strangely disappointed at the interruption.

Then she saw Harry walking toward her, holding a white plastic bag. Perfect timing.

“Good to see you, Karina,” Jenny said.

“You should come by the house sometime. I’ll make those apple bars you used to love.”

“Yum. I’ll visit soon.” She turned toward Harry.

He was a few feet away, when he stopped suddenly. He looked confused. Then his right arm dropped limply by his side and the bag slipped from his fingers to the floor.

Jenny walked over and picked up the bag. “Harry, are you okay?”

He looked at her and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

Worried, Jenny touched his shoulder. “What’s wrong?”

Again he tried to speak, but didn’t seem able to. His face was gray, his skin clammy.

“Is he having a heart attack?” Karina asked, behind her.

“I don’t think so. He doesn’t look in pain.” She pulled her boss over to the waiting area. “Sit down, Harry. You’ll be fine in a minute.”

He let her seat him, but looked at her as if he couldn’t understand what she was saying.

Panicking now, she called across to the counter. “We need help here.”

Tru’s head whipped round. “What’s going on?”

“I don’t know. Something’s wrong with Harry.”

Everyone stood, staring. They seemed frozen in place.

Except for Tru.

He rushed over and crouched in front of Harry, studying him. “Does it hurt anywhere?”

Harry tried to speak again. This time his words came out garbled. Then he grabbed his head and moaned. As if in slow motion, the right side of his face began to droop.

Her gaze met Tru’s. She saw in the green depths that he’d come to the same terrifying conclusion as she had.

Panic clutched at her chest. “He’s having a stroke.”

“Call 911,” Tru ordered. “We need an ambulance. Now.”

Before she could move to get her phone, Harry’s eyes rolled back in his head and he slumped to the ground.

* * *

“B
UT
YOU
HAVE
to let me go with him.”

Jenny’s frantic words and stricken expression, as she watched the stretcher with her unconscious boss being loaded into the ambulance, tugged at Tru’s heart. She was normally so calm and in control, it was a shock to see her floundering.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we’re prohibited from taking anyone in the ambulance.” The paramedic’s tone was sympathetic, but firm, as he closed the rear doors.

“Not even family?” She was clearly too upset to realize that arguing would only delay the ambulance.

“Jenny.” Tru touched her arm.

She whirled to face him, her body language angry and defensive. “What?”

His breath caught in his throat at the anguish in her blue eyes.

“Let them do their job.” He drew her away from the ambulance. “The sooner they get Harry to the hospital, the better.”

She glared at him for a few seconds, but gradually the frustration drained from her expression, leaving her pale and drawn. “He needs me there, with him.” Her voice was barely above a whisper. “He shouldn’t be alone.”

The ambulance driver started the engine. Jenny flinched, then stepped forward, as if to stop the vehicle from leaving.

Tru put an arm around her shoulders. He tried not to notice that for a moment she leaned into him. “I’ll take you to the hospital. If we go now, we can follow the ambulance.”

She stiffened and pulled away. “I can manage.”

“I know you can. But you don’t need to. You’re worried about Harry. Let someone who...” He caught himself before he said
cares.
“Let me help.”

“I don’t want
your
help. I don’t need it.”

He ignored the sting of her words. “Really? You’re being stubborn about that
now?
”

Color filled her cheeks, but she crossed her arms. “I’ll be fine.”

“You’re too upset to drive. I’ll get you to the hospital quickly and in one piece.”

“You can’t. You have stuff to do.” Her protest would have been more effective if he hadn’t seen her hands tremble.

“The hospital’s on our way.”

“But what about Karina?”

“She...”

“Insists on taking you to the hospital.” His mom waggled a finger at Jenny. “You need friends with you.”

Jenny’s gaze flicked uncertainly between them. As the ambulance pulled out of the parking lot, she said, “Okay. Thanks.”

They got into his Range Rover; his mom in the back and Jenny alongside him up front. Then Tru pulled out, keeping the ambulance in sight as he drove through town toward the hospital. He forced himself to appear calm, while inside he hoped desperately that Sturridge would be all right. Jenny’d had enough bad news in her life.

She sat bolt upright, her eyes fixed firmly on the white-and-blue vehicle ahead. He wanted to touch her, reassure her, but she’d erected an invisible barrier around herself that he doubted he could breach.

Still, he had to try. “It’s a good sign they aren’t using the lights and siren.”

Jenny didn’t respond. Not even a muscle twitch.

His mom met his worried gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Does Harry have family, Jenny?” she asked.

“A daughter and a son.” Jenny started, as if waking from a dream. “I should call them.”

She pulled her cell from her purse. “Felicia is probably shopping or at a salon and Irving won’t be out of bed yet.”

“You could wait until we get to the hospital,” Tru suggested. “You’ll be able to give them a better idea of his status then.”

“Believe me, I’d like to delay, but I should let them know he’s been taken to the hospital. Just in case something ha-happens.” Her voice broke on the final word.

“Nothing will happen.” Tru regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth. He couldn’t guarantee that and he didn’t need Jenny to blame him for anything else.

He tried to backtrack. “We got help to him fast and he’s in the best hands.”

“In their shoes, I’d want to know as soon as possible.” She grimaced as she dialed. “I should just get it done. The worst they can do is yell.”

Neither of Sturridge’s children picked up. Jenny left a message, then dropped her phone onto her lap and turned her attention back to the vehicle ahead.

A few minutes later, the ambulance pulled into the hospital’s emergency vehicle area. Tru dropped Jenny and his mom at the main entrance, while he looked for somewhere to park. Luckily, he found a space quickly.

After jogging back to the main building, Tru found Jenny and his mom in the far corner of the crowded E.R. waiting room. Jenny was perched on the edge of a hard, plastic chair, her attention focused on the double doors leading into the treatment area. His mom sat to her right, pretending to read a tattered magazine.

“Any news?” he asked.

“None.” Despite her flat tone, the tremor in Jenny’s voice betrayed her emotions. “They’re running tests. They said it would be a while.”

“Okay. Well, you’d expect that with a suspected stroke.”

She nodded without taking her eyes off the doors.

Unsure what to say to ease her haunted expression, Tru sat beside her.

“You don’t have to wait,” she said stiffly. “I’ve already taken up enough of your time.”

“I won’t leave you here alone.” He braced himself for her protest, but it never came. Instead, she nodded again and kept staring straight ahead.

The E.R. doors swished open.

Jenny jerked at the sound, her gaze flying expectantly to the nurse who’d appeared. When her name wasn’t called, Jenny’s shoulders drooped and she slumped back in her chair. After a few minutes, she pulled herself rigidly upright and the vigil began again.

The cycle of anticipation and disappointment was repeated many times over the next hour. Each time, Jenny’s face grew paler and her body took a few moments longer to recover.

Each time, his chest squeezed a little tighter.

Tru hated feeling useless. At least on that terrible night years ago—when she’d finally admitted she was being abused—he’d been able to hold her, so the warmth and strength in his touch would comfort her.

Now all he could do was watch with her, and wait.

The depth of her emotional reaction made him wonder what the deal was with Harry. Jenny had worked for him since she was eighteen, but she acted as if they were really close. Like family. Like a lover?

Was Jenny sleeping with her boss?

Jenny’s personal life is none of your damn business.
Hadn’t been for years. Yet the thought of her sleeping with the older man made Tru’s stomach turn.

“Jenny Martin?” A nurse’s voice cut into his thoughts.

Jenny jolted. She leaped up and rushed over to the woman in green scrubs waiting by the E.R. doors.

Tru rose to follow her then hesitated. Jenny wouldn’t want him with her.

“Go.” His mom nudged him. “She shouldn’t hear the news alone.”

Jenny didn’t acknowledge his presence when he joined her.

“Let’s go over here.” The nurse led them to some chairs at one side of the waiting room.

“How is Harry doing?” Jenny asked anxiously.

“His vital signs are strong, but he hasn’t regained consciousness yet.”

“Do you know why?”

“They’re still doing tests and it may be some time before they have an answer,” she said. “We’d like to admit Mr. Sturridge for observation. Could you help with the paperwork?”

“Of course.”

At that moment, a too-thin redhead in a figure-hugging green dress and matching spiked heels rushed into the waiting room. Tru recognized the type—rich, spoiled, nervous wreck.

She spotted Jenny and hurried across the room. Her expensive perfume preceded her; its cloying spiciness didn’t mix comfortably with the antiseptic smell. “Harry Sturridge. Where’s my father? What’s happening?” she wailed.

Before the nurse could answer, a man sauntered through the entrance and came over to join them. His deliberately rumpled linen suit and just-rolled-out-of-bed hairstyle marked him as the nervous wreck’s brother.

His sister collapsed into his arms with a loud sob. “I’m so glad you’re here, Irving. I don’t know what to do. Poor Daddy.”

“Who’s in charge around here?” he demanded, as he patted his sister on the back. “I want the best specialist looking after my father. Isn’t Dominic Watson on staff here? Tell him I want him to be personally responsible for my father’s care.”

“Your father is already receiving the best care,” the nurse replied briskly.

“Good. We can afford whatever’s necessary, starting with your best private room.”

“Oh, yes. Daddy must be settled as quickly as possible.” Felicia nodded.

Tru pitied Jenny’s boss. Hell, if these two were his kids, he’d have had a stroke just to get away from them.

The nurse patiently went through Harry’s status again. “Perhaps, as you’re next of kin, you’d prefer to handle the paperwork for his admission.”

Felicia fluttered her hands, looking panicked. “I couldn’t.”

“Good God, no. That’s what
she’s
here for.” Irving arched an eyebrow at Jenny. “That is what a
personal assistant
is supposed to do, isn’t it?”

Irritation spiked at the crude insinuation, despite Tru’s own questions about Jenny’s relationship with her boss only minutes earlier. He waited for Jenny to lambaste the man. She’d cut some of the biggest stars in the National Hockey League off at the knees for less, slicing through their egos like a sushi chef with fresh tuna.

But Jenny said nothing. She stood there, staring at Irving. The white knuckles of her clenched fists, hanging by her sides, were the only sign she was bothered by Irving’s gibe.

What the hell was wrong with her? Why was she letting him walk all over her?

“Your father would be in the morgue, if it wasn’t for Jenny’s fast action,” Tru snapped.

Sturridge’s daughter gasped.

Irving cast his gaze lazily over Tru. “Don’t tell me you brought one of your hockey hulks with you, Jenny?” His lip curled. “Can’t you do without them for one afternoon?”

Jenny’s hand whipped out and grabbed Tru’s arm as he curled his fingers into a fist. With surprising strength, she prevented him from smashing the arrogant ass’s nose.

For the first time since her boss had collapsed in the drugstore, she morphed into the haughty ice queen he was used to. “Show the hospital and your father some respect.”