Page 5 of Gideon (Finding Home #3)

Chapter

Two

Is this heaven? Because if it is, I want my money back. It’s a terrible place

Gideon

I stare at Milo in stupefaction. “I’m sorry. I think my illness must have affected my hearing. I’m sure you just said that you’ve booked me on a cruise?”

“I have,” he says calmly, sitting back in his chair and glaring at me.

“Does pneumonia have the side effect of aging me by forty years? Why am I going on a fucking cruise?” I look at Niall. “What the hell is happening here?”

He shrugs and Milo leans forward. “You can’t fly back to England. Your lung collapsed and there’s no way that any airline will let you fly with that.”

“So, I’ll stay here.”

He shakes his head. “No, you’re coming home so we can look after you, and a cruise is the only way to get you back.”

“I haven’t actually got a home at the moment,” I say. “I sold the Primrose Hill house a few months ago, and I don’t think the new owners will be very happy if I turn up and sit on the sofa.”

“And you didn’t buy another place?”

I flush. “I forgot.” Everyone’s heads turn towards me and I squirm slightly. “What?” I finally bark. “I was too busy.”

“Getting laid,” Milo says pertly. He grimaces at me. “It doesn’t matter because you’re coming back to Chi an Mor .”

I think of the lovely Elizabethan manor house on the coast of Cornwall that belongs to Silas. “Why?”

“Because you can recuperate there with us. Away from the press.”

“Hang on,” Frankie says crossly. “Gideon needs the press.”

“Why?” Milo asks and Frankie bristles.

“Listen, Milo, you may be very skilled at touching up pictures, but you know fuck all about show business.”

“Touching up pictures?” I mouth at Niall and he shakes his head, his eyes brimming with mirth. He’s always loved shit like this.

“Well I t-took time away from making sure that the artist had c-crayoned within the lines to take up my position as Gideon’s next of kin,” Milo says.

I always thought it was impossible to stutter and sound threatening at the same time, but I have to say he has it down pat. Frankie moves back a step.

“Look,” he says, trying for a conciliatory tone.

“We’re both on the same side here, Milo.

” My brother looks unconvinced but Frankie ploughs on.

“I just thought he’d be better staying with me.

I’ve rented a lovely villa on Lake Garda.

” I wonder idly whether I’ve paid for that.

Strike that. I know I have. He carries on talking. “I’ve even hired a nurse.”

“What? I don’t need a nurse,” I say quickly.

He nods. “You do, mate. We need to get you fully fit and we don’t need you in the fucking hospital with the press hanging around.”

“You’re right,” Milo says evenly, and Frankie looks rather surprised.

“I am?”

He nods at Frankie. “He does need to get fit and a nurse is a brilliant idea.”

“Am I here?” I demand. “Or is this heaven? Because if it is, I want my money back. It’s a terrible place.”

Frankie and Milo ignore me, locked in a staring contest which Frankie breaks when he turns to me and hands me a piece of paper.

I look blearily at it and then hand it over to Milo.

“I’ve hired you a good one, Gid. She’s called Ellie Jones and she’s got a fantastic reputation.

She’s worked with loads of celebrities and she’s known for her discretion.

” He pauses. “Hopefully she’s good-looking too.

Then we could spin it that she’s your new bird. ”

“ Bird, ” Milo says in a tone of disgust. “She’s a qualified professional. Very qualified, looking at this.” He squints. “Was your printer running out? Because some of this is blurred.”

Frankie waves his hand in dismissal. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just boring details.”

Milo hands him the paper. “Perfect. She can accompany Gid on his cruise.” He turns to me.

“It’s the only way, Gid. You need to come home for me to look after you.

This way you’ll travel back slowly, get some sun, relax and not overstretch yourself.

” He smiles. “No wild living. Just sun, sea, and lots of good books.”

“What the fuck?” Frankie roars and the room explodes into loud voices, one of whose is Milo’s. I blink as I never knew he could reach that decibel level. Frankie gets in his face but before I can move Niall is there, shoving between them and saying something to Frankie in a very threatening tone.

I blink, feeling my eyes get heavy. I’m so tired. I contemplate ringing the bell for security to evict everyone, but it’s too far away. They’re all shouting too loudly to pay attention to anything, which is why it’s only me who hears the knock on the door.

It opens and a figure steps into the room.

I eye the newcomer. He’s very tall with wide shoulders and a lanky build, but it’s his face that gains my attention.

It’s angular with sharp cheekbones and a very strong squared chin.

His lips are full and his nose is wide with a spray of freckles.

With that, his outfit of cargo shorts and a navy t-shirt, and the wavy dirty-blond hair that falls over his face and brushes his collar, he looks like a surfer who’s lost his way to the beach.

He looks around the room in astonishment and then fixes his gaze on me. His eyes are a pretty olive green that are so clear they look like the bottom of a brook. “Hello, are you Mr Ramsay?” he finally says, and I blink at the Welsh lilt in his speech.

“Hello,” I say, clearing my throat. “Are you a fan? Can I help you?”

As one, everyone turns to stare at him, and he blinks. “I think it might be the other way round. I’m Eli Jones, the nurse who’s been hired to look after you.”

Frankie’s mouth drops open, and I start to laugh.

He stares at me as I laugh harder and harder, and Milo turns to Frankie triumphantly. “Boring details? Hah!”

ELI

The man on the bed continues to laugh and the whole room has the feeling of a nuthouse.

I look at my prospective patient and blink.

Gideon Ramsay . I know him. I flush slightly.

I should do. I watched a film with him in it last night.

It had been a retelling of King Arthur and Guinevere and he’d played Lancelot.

The film had been amazing, but there’d been a lot of gossip about it.

The actor playing Arthur had apparently been very annoyed by Gideon’s scene stealing, to the extent that he insisted on changing scenes and bits of the script.

If that’s true, it never worked, because Gideon was the definite star.

His brooding and sad presence had stolen every scene, but it was the naked scene he’d done that had led to me jerking off.

I flush at the thought. His body had been spectacular.

Naturally slim with a wide hairless chest, long legs, and an arse you could balance a plate on.

Now, however, he looks diminished. All of that energy is gone and only a slight feverish amusement is keeping him awake, I’d guess. I eye the black hair tumbling around his patrician face with its sharp blade of a nose, thin lips, and high cheekbones. He looks like a priest. A hot one.

His laughter turns to coughing, and I race to his side, my thoughts vanishing in the rush to deal with my patient.

“Easy,” I say, holding him up with one arm while I raise the bed and plump his pillows up so he’s sitting upright. The coughing eases and I smile down at him. “Okay now?”

He blinks, and I notice the colour of his eyes.

They’re so light a blue they’re almost grey, and I’d guess they normally look cold, but now they just look tired.

I reach out for the glass of water and guide the straw to his mouth.

He gulps heartily, his throat working as he swallows the liquid.

I tear my eyes away from his Adam’s apple and try to remember that I’m a health-care professional, not a bloody groupie. What the fuck is wrong with me?

I pull the straw away and lower him back against the pillow. “You okay?” I ask softly. He nods, his expression dazed, and I turn to face the others only to find them all staring at me.

I feel a flush on my cheeks. “Everything alright?” I ask tentatively.

The older fat man glares at me. “Who are you?”

I blink. “Eli Jones. I was told to report here. I’m the nurse for this gentleman, I believe.”

“What the fuck?” he breathes and runs an agitated hand through his hair.

I feel uneasiness stir. What the fuck is going on in here ? “Is there a problem?”

“Well, Eli,” the big man says in a very hostile tone. “You could say there is a bloody problem, and you’re it.”

One of the other men stirs. Tall and slender with a mane of wavy hair, he reminds me of someone, and then I realise that he looks vaguely similar to the man lying in the bed. It’s in the shape of his mouth and eyes and the long nose. Brother, I’d say.

“There’s no problem,” he says, his halting speech and indrawn breath telling me that he probably had a stammer at one point. He smiles and his whole face lights up. “No problem at all. I’m Milo, Gideon’s brother.” He reaches out to shake my hand, and his long fingers close around mine.

The fat man stirs. “Mind your own business, Milo.”

“Oi.” The tall white-blond man who’s standing close to Milo glares at the fat man. “Watch your fucking mouth, Frankie.”

Ah, Frankie, my employer. I gaze down at the patient as if seeking clarification, only to find him staring back at me. I smile hesitantly and he closes his eyes for a second, exhaustion running over his face.

I turn back to the crowd. “Are you Frankie?” I ask, smiling calmly at him.

I offer my hand but he ignores it, so I shrug and return it to my side.

When I look down, my patient is glaring.

I blink but realise that it’s not at me, but at Frankie, who hasn’t noticed.

“You asked me to come here to take charge of my patient.”

“Well, now I’m telling you to fuck off,” he says harshly. “You’re no good to me.”

“ Frankie !” Milo exclaims. “What the hell? You have no right.”