Crazy in Love by Luanne Rice

Author:Luanne Rice
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: Psychological, Married women, Psychological fiction, Possessiveness, Sagas, General, Romance, Connecticut, Lawyers' spouses, Fiction, Domestic fiction
ISBN: 9780553587814
Publisher: Random House Digital, Inc.
Published: 2006-01-31T06:00:00+00:00

SECONDS AND A LIFETIME later, I came to. I lay on the sidewalk, a crumpled heap, and Mark was trying to straighten me out. He was pulling on one leg, saying, “Georgie, please wake up!” He was so busy, he didn’t notice that my eyes were open, watching him.

“I’m okay,” I said, after a bit.

He crawled on his hands and knees to sit beside my head. He tried to slide his briefcase under my hair, as a sort of bulgy leather pillow, but I struggled to sit up.

“Lie back,” he said. “You can’t stand yet. What happened?”

What had happened? Staring at the pale summer sky, I reflected. The unthinkable had occurred and another man’s lips had touched mine, but of course I couldn’t tell him that. “I think the heat got me,” I said.

“Really? I was just thinking it feels like autumn. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes. Yes, I think so,” I said, though I did feel rather woozy still. “Help me up?” I asked.

By now the waiters and the maître d’ had noticed me lying on their sidewalk, and had rushed out to help. “Madame, Señora, Missee Sahib, dear lady,” voices were saying in all languages.

“If someone could just call me a cab,” I said.

“That’s ridiculous,” Mark said. “I’m taking you back to your hotel.”

The last thing I wanted was to go anywhere near a hotel with Mark, but I had no choice. I still felt weak, as though I might faint again. He directed the maître d’, he of the recently greased palm, to fetch his car from a nearby garage, and he wouldn’t let me stand until it arrived. Driving to the hotel, he kept casting sidelong glances at me, as if to make sure I was still conscious, or as if he had a question he could not quite bring himself to ask. In the hotel lobby he asked someone to vacate their chair, and he pushed me into it. Then he went to the reception desk, spoke to someone for a few minutes, came to me with my bill and a charge slip for me to sign.

“Thank you, Mark,” I said, really touched by his taking care of me.

“You scared me back there. Are you sure you’re all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Did it bother you that I kissed you?”

I smiled, because suddenly it seemed ridiculous that not only had it bothered me, it had momentarily stopped my heart. “No,” I said.

“Well, I’m glad of that. Come on—I’ll drive you to Penn Station.”

The Colonial stood on Track 13. Mark walked aboard with me, found me a seat, heaved my bag onto the overhead luggage rack. He kissed me again, this time on the cheek.

“I think you should see a doctor,” he said. “It’s not that hot out, so I don’t think you fainted from the heat. I’m going to call you this week, to make sure you’re okay. Will you give me your number?”

I hesitated, but then I reached into my bag for a notepad. I wrote down my address and telephone number.

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