Isn't It Romantic? by Eileen Dreyer

Author:Eileen Dreyer
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ePublishing Works!
Published: 2015-07-15T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 8

New Orleans Times May 27—

Last evening at approximately midnight, IBN anchor Pete Cooper thwarted an attempted assault on himself and a lady companion in the French Quarter. The assailant escaped, but after facing Cooper's anger, left without the booty he'd sought. Cooper was unavailable for comment....

"Aah-choo!... ow..."

"Serves you right."

"Did you have to make it three cats? Three big cats?"

"I would have made it a leopard and a cranky puma if I could have. You're going to get this thing infected, and your rib's probably broken, and I'm gonna end up with a feverish anchor somewhere in a motel in Mississippi and have to explain to the local doctor that you were shot, but that I didn't do it...."

"You're blowing this all up out of proportion... aah..."

Busy squirting antibiotic ointment into the still-oozing slash along Pete's fifth rib, Brooke finally enjoyed a well-deserved smile. "Yes?"

After dispensing with yet another sneeze and moan, Pete scowled at her. "You're heartless."

She repaid his kiss of the night before. "You bet. What did Evan say?"

Pete took a second to answer as he held the new gauze against his side while Brooke taped it. She could see the discomfort on his features, and not just from the renewed attack of allergies. This damn thing was hurting him, and it was his own stupid fault.

It wasn't, really. It was just that Brooke still got weak-kneed when she thought how close he'd come to crumpling down to the ground in that alley and never getting back up, and the only way she could deal with that was to yell at him. Now, finally, she understood why her mother had yelled at her when she'd fallen out of the tree and broken her arm. She'd yelled and then she'd cried. It was exactly what Brooke felt like doing.

"Evan said," he rasped, his voice ghastly, his attention on her handiwork, "that he couldn't figure out how I could get into so much trouble on sick leave."

"He doesn't seem to know you very well."

"I told him that just because I couldn't talk didn't mean I couldn't mourn. That I was fulfilling the tenets of my aunt's will."

"Which he took well, I'm sure."

"Actually, having Alex get on the phone and swear that I really did sound this bad helped. Evan's never been able to argue with Alex."

"You're not going to tell her that you got shot, either?"

"She'll just worry."

Brooke looked up from where she was stabilizing the last piece of tape. "And I won't?"

He flashed her that same damn crooked smile that shot down all her protests. "Where are we going today, nurse?"

She scowled heartily, wanting very badly to grin, to chuckle back at his outrageous charm. "Straight to the sanitarium. You're nuts."

"But you love me anyway."

Brooke gave the tape one last little smack that provoked a predictable reaction and straightened. "Don't push it."

The car was all packed and ready to go. Rene had bid his goodbyes before leaving for the airport and a trip to Zurich, and Alex waited downstairs with a picnic basket she and her maid had packed for the trip.

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