Once again it’s What’s the Scenario Wednesday. This week’s theme is Man in Uniform. I’ve chosen a theme from an upcoming release, Someone to Watch Over Me. This story will release late October, 2011. I don’t have a cover yet and will post just as soon as I get it. It’s not about a man in uniform, but the hero does serve and protect his woman. Have a peek and let me know what you think. Enjoy!
Setting: Boston. Seagram Hotel
“Ooh,” London groaned out loud. Her entire body tensed up as she grabbed her head with her hands. “Oh God! Why now? Why me?”
These headaches had become such a bother that, with the suggestion of her medical doctor, she’d actually made an appointment to see a neurologist next week. Not that it would do any good. She was sure that it was just stress from all that was going on in her life that had started her migraines. She’d had headaches in college, too, but never this debilitating. Even breathing hurt.
London wasn’t sure, but she thought she heard a knock at her door. Her head was hurting so bad that she might have just heard the hammering going on in her skull. Freak, this one was a doozy. They usually only lasted a few minutes but the one last night had stuck around for almost ten minutes, and she’d had the one today for over twenty minutes.
“What’s wrong?” came a familiar voice from somewhere inside her office. Was that Connor? Or was she hearing things? London wasn’t sure, and her head was hurting too bad to even think about lifting it. She must’ve cried out in pain, because the voice she thought she’d imagined was real and Connor was bending down in front of her.
“London, what’s wrong?” His usually well-modulated voice was louder than usual, and his eyes were wide.
She wanted to ask him what the hell he was doing here but thought better of it. Tossing out insults was not going to make the pain go away.
“My…head…hurts…bad. Oh God, Connor, I think I’m going to be sick.” She cried out in pain and started to get up, but shifting her body only a few inches made her feel light-headed. Connor’s left hand pushed her back down and his right set trash can in front of her face. She heaved and vomited until she felt as if every piece of food she’d ever eaten was being expelled from her body. When she’d finished, Connor was kneeling in front of her again with a wet towel in his hand.
“Here you go,” he whispered wiping her face with the towel. “Should I take you to emergency?”
She tried to shake her head no but didn’t want to risk the pain. She opted for laying her head back on her desk. “I…don’t think so. It should pass…in a minute,” she whispered so as not to aggravate the pain.
“Are you sure?” Connor asked in a voice full of concern. “I’ve never known you to suffer headaches so badly that you’ve become ill. What’s going on, London? Is the press still hounding you?”
“Not… as much as they used to. There’s always a stray one here and there. Nothing I can’t handle. I think we’re becoming old news. Now if my folks would lay off my back everything would probably be all right in London’s world,” she murmured around another bout of pain.
“You’ve been working too hard. You need to slow down, London. You don’t even have to work at all. You have plenty of money that you rarely use as it is. I’m taking you up to the private suite. No objections,” he added firmly.
She had objections, plenty of objections, but the thought of resting her head on a cool pillow stole all thoughts of resistance. “Maybe if I lie down for a bit the headache will go away and I’ll stop seeing double,” she mumbled, pushing herself to her feet. Immediately, the room whirled around her as if she were on a ride at a carnival. “Whoa,” she said.
“Come on.” Connor bent down and scooped her up like she was no bigger than a sack of potatoes. London shrieked and immediately wished she hadn’t…the pain in her head intensified.
“Just keep still and lay your head against me,” Connor commanded.
Oh, how she would have loved to give in to that firm voice, but…“Connor you can’t carry me out of here. Think of the employees…and the media.”
“I can, I will, and I am. No one will see us but security. Or have you forgotten about the private elevators leading to the suite?” Connor replied.
“Ugh,” she groaned. It must be the headache because she most certainly had forgotten.
“No worries. Relax, sweetheart, I’ll have you upstairs and in bed in a jiffy,” he remarked as he walked out of London’s office towards the private bank of elevators leading to the presidential suite.
London closed her eyes and relaxed against Connor’s broad chest. It felt good being held like this, even if it was only for a few moments. She’d savor this feeling while she could. It had been a long time since Connor had held her so tenderly. Anyway, the divorce was almost final so this was probably a one-shot deal.
London sighed deeply and buried herself further into Connor chest. She heard him tell security to make sure that there were no paparazzi lurking around. He barked out a few more orders as he stepped into the elevator. So like Connor to take control of the situation. So authoritative.
“Is your headache getting any better London? Are you sure you don’t want to go to emergency? He asked. “Never mind, don’t answer. Just relax. I can see by the pinched expression on your face that you’re still in pain.”
The elevator gave a quiet hiss as it came upon their floor and stopped. The doors opened.
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