"That's fine," Nik replied.

When he took her hand again, Sara didn't resist. She welcomed the warmth and silent support, even though she knew she shouldn't.

The rooms were really only gla.s.s-part.i.tioned cubicles with a myriad of machines circling a single hospital bed like an army of metal soldiers.

And in the midst of the platoon lay her father, asleep and pale, with so many tubes running through his body it was as if a child had scribbled loops upon the drawing of a man.

She wanted to cry.

He looked so frail, this man who had once picked her up and tossed her toward the sky each night when he returned from work.

Nik's hand tightened on hers. Sara realized that he was reliving a memory of his own. Perhaps he had seen his own father in a bed like this. She felt ashamed for having given him such a hard time. If only he hadn't interfered. He didn't know what had transpired in her family. He had no right to impose his own beliefs on her. No right to make her feel guilty.

She was doing a d.a.m.n fine job of that herself.

Sara blinked hard to keep from crying. She'd promised herself no tears and she meant to keep that promise. Just because he looked like a broken old man was no reason to forget fourteen years of no phone calls, no contact.

She was aware that Nik had retreated, letting her have a moment alone.

She couldn't even touch her father, she thought. There were too many tubes in the way.

His hand looked almost translucent where the IV was attached She reached out and barely brushed her fingertips along his.

"Certainly don't look like Clint Eastwood now, do you?" she whispered.

She could have sworn that she saw her father's eyes flutter ever so slightly and try to open. It was just her imagination , she told herself.

She'd been so sure that after all that had gone before, she had distanced herself sufficiently so that this wasn't going to bother her.

She'd been wrong.

Sara pressed her lips together, wishing she hadn't come.

She stepped back, as if to deny what she was seeing. That failing, she desperately attempted to harden her heart to it. 7xro for two.

Turning away before she broke down, Sara saw that Nik had gone back to the nurses' desk. Now what was he doing ? As she approached, she heard him talking to the nurse. "Will he be all right?"

The nurse briefly scanned the information available to her on the monitor transmitting from room twelve.

"All his vital signs appear to be A-okay." The young woman gave Nik an encouraging smile. "He should be just fine. Is there a number where we can reach you if a problem does arise?"

Sara opened her mouth to respond, trying to recall the telephone number at her father's house. To her surprise, Nik gave the nurse his number before she could say anything.

Chapter 7.

*q angry as she was at Nik's presumption, Sara still didn't want to cause a scene in the middle of the hospital. She waited until they were outside the Coronary Care Unit before saying anything to him.

"Boy, you really take this friend role to heart, don't you?"

They were on the cusp of another argument, Nik thought. It fascinated him how Sara's temperament seemed to go in waves, first up, then down, then up again. Nik didn't even bother to try to figure out what it was she was talking about now. He asked. " " What do you mean? "

How could he play dumb? He was interfering in her life, stomping smack in the middle of it with both feet. And no one had invited him in.

Nothing she had done could even remotely be construed as encouragement to meddle.

She struggled to keep her voice from rising as they walked through the winding hallway toward the lobby. "What's the idea of giving that nurse your number instead of mine?"

So that's what this was about. Nik shook his head. Sara was being territorial again. "It wasn't mine," he informed her tersely. "It was the restaurant's phone number. You're going to be working there, aren't you?"

She wanted to shout at him that that wasn't the point, but of course it was. She was going to spend the better part of each day at work. It was only logical that they would contact her at the restaurant.

But she still didn't want Nik taking charge like that. He was taking matters out of her hands as if she was some helpless dolt he had to take care of. She'd been on her own too long to feel comfortable about someone else exercising that kind of control over her.

"Yes," Sara ground out the answer between clenched teeth.

Nik stopped abruptly. He felt he needed to have both feet on the floor at the same time in order to deal with her. Ignoring him, Sara continued walking. She was marching ahead like a soldier heading straight into battle. Nik laid a hand heavily on her shoulder to keep her in place. "So what's your problem?"

Did she have to hit him over the head with a two-by-four before he backed off? She shrugged away his hand. "My problem is that you keep b.u.t.ting in where you have no business being."

For two centsNik suppressed the urge to clip her one on that pretty little chin she insisted on sticking up at him. He shoved his hands into his pockets. And to think he'd felt sorry for her believing that she was going through the same thing he had.

Right. That would give her credit for feelings.

His eyes narrowed as he looked at Sara. "You know , you'd be a d.a.m.n sight more attractive if you stopped looking for a fight every couple of seconds."

This was all his fault, not hers. "I am not looking for a fight."

Typical woman, always twisting things around. The next time Antonio urged him to hold Sara's hand he was going to lock the old man up in the walk in refrigerator and leave him there until he came to his senses. "Then what do you call itq, ,

That was easy. "Protecting my own s.p.a.ce."

His green eyes darkened and then went flat. "If you're not careful you're not going to have a s.p.a.ce." With that, he walked out of the building.

Incensed, Sara hurried after him before the electronic doors had a chance to close again. "And what's that supposed to mean? "

He didn't bother turning around as he scanned the sea of cars just beyond the entrance, looking for his Mustang. "Ever hear the old saying about cutting off your nose to spite your face? "

She set her mouth hard. She hated being lectured to. "I despise trivial sayings."

He looked over his shoulder at her. "Then stop proving that they're true."

Sara didn't bother answering him. Instead, she stormed past him down to the circular path that led into the hospital parking lot. When she stopped to look around, he was right behind her.

Enough was enough. "Are you going to follow me all the way home and tuck me into bed, too?"

Her words created a momentary image in his head that surpriserl him with its intensity. He managed to maintain an unfathomable expression.

"It's too early for that."

The way he said it left a lot of room for interpretation. She studied him for a second. Was he coming on to her in the middle of an argument? She couldn't be sure. She thought of giving him a dressing-down, just in case. Yet, as much as she refused to admit it, there was something about the possibility that stirred her.

"I'm going to my car." He pointed to it. The dark blue vehicle was three lanes over from Sara's. "It's parked right over there."