Authors: Linda Wells
Dead Love
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DEAD LOVE
by
Linda Wells
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, institutions, businesses, locales, and events are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. All characters appearing in this work are entirely the work of the author’s imagination and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
Copyright 2013 Linda Wells
All rights reserved
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including photocopying, recording or by any information storage or retrieval system, without written permission of the author.
ISBN-10: 1480262072
ISBN-13: 9781480262072
eBook ISBN: 978-1-63001-323-3
Library of Congress Control Number: 2012921178
CreateSpace Independent Publishing Platform
North Charleston, South Carolina
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Contents
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M
aggie Ryan was running late. Her alarm hadn’t gone off, so she had rushed through the shower, leaving Mike in bed to catch a few extra minutes of sleep. He would have to deal with getting the boys to school. He worked at home, and his schedule was flexible. Since Pembrooke Academy was only a few blocks away, he could walk them to school. He enjoyed grabbing a cappuccino and bagel at the local coffee shop on his way home.
After her shower, Maggie dressed in beige string bikini panties, matching lacey bra, sheer stockings, and a straight “just above the knee” taupe skirt, crisp white tailored blouse, and a classic fitted navy blazer with gold buttons. She slipped on her taupe heels and then stood in front of the full-length mirror to see if the gold wings on her left lapel were straight. After brushing her long blonde hair, Maggie pulled it back in a sleek ponytail, fastened with a tortoise shell clasp. The look was chic and professional. She applied light powder, smoky brown eye shadow and liner, mascara, blush, and a neutral pink lipstick. She was a natural beauty with full lips and light blue eyes, the makeup adding the finishing touch. Maggie was a flight attendant for Century Air, a “senior stew,” with ten years of service. She was flying a turnaround to Miami out of LaGuardia three days a week. The days were long, ten hours plus, but the work was exciting. In spite of the inevitable flight delays and the occasional irritable passenger, the job was fun and each day was different. In addition, she liked the perks. She and Mike loved to travel, and the job offered them that opportunity.
Maggie gulped down the last of her coffee, took the cup into the kitchen, and slipped into the bedroom to say good-bye to Mike. She leaned over the bed where he was deep in sleep, whispering, “Wake up, Mike. It’s time to get the boys ready for school.”
He yawned and said, “Good morning, lover,” in his sleepy, sexy voice.
He put his arms around her hips and tried to pull her into bed with him. He was boyishly handsome, with long sandy brown hair, which fell over his forehead, blue eyes, and subtly rugged features. His rough beard was so masculine, and she loved feeling his face against hers when they kissed. His arms were still around her as her lips brushed his, and he responded, touching her leg, sliding his hand up her skirt, touching her silky panties.
She reluctantly pulled away from him, saying, “Later, sweetheart. I love you, but I have to go,” while softly brushing his hair off his forehead with her fingertips.
Maggie rushed out of the bedroom. She would have loved to crawl into bed with him, memories of their passionate, earthy lovemaking from the night before still fresh in her mind, but she had to get to the airport. Thoughts of his body inside her made her ache for him, but she knew they would be together tonight. She couldn’t wait to feel his arms around her as he held her close to him, naked, his body blended perfectly into hers. Their desire for each other was as intense as the day they met.
Though it was long commute to LaGuardia, they loved their West Side co-op. It was near the boys’ school, Central Park, many great restaurants, shops, and historic sights. There was so much for them to enjoy by living in the city. Mike could work at home and take care of Mike Jr. and Tim when necessary. Besides writing for a scientific journal, Mike had published several books in his field of expertise, the biological and chemical sciences. They enjoyed city life, but escaped for occasional weekends to his family’s cabin in the Poconos.
After a quick peek at the boys, still asleep, Maggie grabbed her small carry-on and purse and left the apartment. She caught the elevator to the lobby and hurried out of the building. She walked the short distance to the Express Subway Station entrance and took the stairs down to the dank platform. It was hot and muggy that early June Monday morning. She began to perspire but kept her pace. Checking her watch, she noted it was 6:45 a.m. She would have plenty of time to make the 7:30 a.m. check-in for the nine o’clock flight. She hated rushing, especially in this heat.
Maggie and the others on the congested platform felt harried and damp from the humidity. They grew impatient as they waited for the train. None had noticed the small gray aerosol canister sitting behind a cement support column in a dark recess of the station. The can was spraying quietly, releasing an odorless vapor straight up into the acrid, stagnant air. It was dispersing an invisible cloud, sending particles at least one hundred feet in all directions.
As the train came to a halt at the station, the automatic doors opened, and Maggie and the others pushed into the crowded car, everyone in a hurry to reach their destination.
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I
t was early Monday morning and very busy in the emergency room at All Saints Hospital in downtown Manhattan. Several of the examination cubicles were occupied with critical patients from the night before, waiting for admission. Others had crying babies, children with the flu, or patients with open cuts that needed stitching. Several patients that had arrived with chest pain or abdominal pain had been examined, x-rayed, and needed further observation before being sent home. Dr. David Grant was a board-certified emergency room physician and director of the Emergency Department. His high standards and brusque manner kept the ER staff at peak performance. He would tolerate only the most skilled doctors and nurses. Some of the staff were afraid of him and his harsh criticism, but he was highly respected by all of his colleagues.
Dave was finally off duty after a twelve-hour shift. During those hours, Dr. Grant and the other two ER physicians and the nursing staff had seen eighty-four patients nonstop. He thrived on the adrenaline high of the job, but it was exhausting. He was in his office, located in the rear of the ER, behind the nurses’ lounge. Sitting at his cluttered oak desk, reading glasses perched on the end of his nose, he studied the test results from one of the seriously ill patients remaining in the ER. Christina Noel, head nurse of the ER, had brought in the patient’s chart and a cup of black coffee. She stood near him as he looked over the report.
Chris was staring at him as she waited for him to finish his thoughts. He had slate blue eyes, a graying crew cut and taut build. They shared the same passion and energy for their work and a deep mutual attraction. She placed the much needed coffee on his desk.
After studying the reports, Dave threw the papers on the desk, took his glasses off, and rubbed his eyes. He picked up the warm mug, took a sip, and said, “Thanks, Chris.”
She asked, “How is he doing?”
Dr. Grant exhaled, leaning back in his chair, and replied, “He’ll make it, but he needs a cardiologist. Call Dr. Stone and request a consult. He needs a cardiac cath and possible stent. I don’t like the looks of his enzymes or his EKG.”
Chris picked up the phone and called Dr. Stone’s office, requesting the consult.
“She can see him this morning after finishing her rounds,” said Chris.
“Good. Thanks, Chris.” He looked up at her, realizing she had been watching at him.
Chris moved behind him and started rubbing his shoulders. She could feel him relax as she massaged his back and neck. She knew how exhausted he must be. It had been a tense night. When Dave started as the emergency room director, Chris was thrilled. She was thirty-five, divorced, and had found no man appealing until Dave. Everyone knew they were lovers, except his wife. Dave and Chris shared not only a drive for perfection but compassion for their patients. They made a great team, in and out of the hospital.
They had met a year ago when he moved from Vancouver, Washington, to Manhattan. He wanted the challenge of a New York hospital setting, where he was also on the teaching staff. It was a prestige position, and the money was excellent. His wife, Vicki, wasn’t happy with the move and made that perfectly clear. Their twenty-year marriage was floundering anyway, but the move was the final blow. She had stayed with him, though, and moved to New York. The money, power, and status were all she wanted. Their unspoken agreement was that their marriage was one of convenience. She took care of his home and their teenage daughter, Carolyn, and portrayed the proper wife when he had to attend social functions. He gave her what she wanted, the large paycheck and, more importantly, the status of being married to a brilliant doctor. Image was everything to Vicki.
Chris was strikingly pretty, with shoulder-length auburn hair, deep brown eyes, and soft curves hidden under her scrubs. Dave turned his chair around and pulled her into his lap, kissing her mouth hard, as he slid his hand under her top. He unfastened her bra so he could feel her breasts. His fingers brushed her nipples, and the sensation made her wet. His hands on her full breasts made her nipples erect, and she uttered a low moan. He couldn’t stop touching her, her breasts and every part of her. Her tongue in his mouth made him throb and he almost came when she unzipped his pants and began stroking him. They were still embraced as he pulled her toward the leather sofa. He stopped kissing her just long enough to pull her shoes, scrub bottoms, and panties off. His pants were still on when he started making love to her, sliding into her warm wetness. Their love for each other was so strong, and their sexual need was intense. They climaxed quickly; their orgasms seemed unending. It had been an exhausting night, but passion and love was their release for the stressful work they shared. They stayed wrapped together, holding each other close. Dave was still deep inside of her, whispering love words, never wanting to let go.