Michael's Discovery - By Sherryl Woods Page 0,6

Michael never had been much for small talk. He’d always been direct to the point of bluntness.

“I’m sorry you were hurt,” she said.

“Not half as sorry as I am.”

“Probably not. So let’s see what we can do about getting you back on your feet.”

His already grim expression turned to a glower. “Look, the doctors have already told me that I’ll never work as a SEAL again, so let’s not waste your time or mine.”

“And that’s the only profession out there for a man with a sharp mind?” she asked.

“It’s the only one I care about.”

She decided not to waste her breath trying to bully him out of such a ridiculously hardheaded, self-defeating stance. “Okay, then, if you’re not motivated to walk again so you can get back to work, what about so you can do a few simple things like going for a walk in the park or maybe going out to get your own groceries? The way I remember it, you’re an independent guy. Are you going to be content letting other people manage your life for you?”

He patted the wheelchair. “With a little more practice, I’ll be able to get around well enough in this.”

Now it was her turn to frown. “And you’re ready to accept that?”

“It’s not as if I have a real choice. The doctors said—”

She cut him off. “Oh, what do they know?” she asked impatiently. “The Michael I remember would take that as a challenge. Why not prove them wrong?” She looked him straight in the eye. “Or do you have something better you’d like to be doing?”

“I keep busy.”

Kelly eyed the computer across the room. A bingo game was on the screen. “I imagine you can earn pocket change playing bingo, but I also imagine you’ll be bored to tears in a couple of weeks.” She shrugged. “Still, it’s your choice. I certainly can’t force you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“Damn straight,” he muttered.

She bit back a smile at the display of defiance. “So, Michael, what’s it going to be? Do I go or stay?”

Once again, she’d obviously taken him by surprise by leaving the decision entirely up to him. He blinked hard, then sighed. “Stay if you want to,” he said grudgingly.

She grinned at him. “Okay, then, let’s do this my way,” she said. “Here’s what I’m thinking.” She laid out the exercises and the rigorous schedule she’d already devised based on the medical information his brother had shared with her. “What do you think?”

“Do you have a masochistic streak I missed when you were a kid?” he grumbled.

Kelly grinned. “No, but I have what it takes to get you out of that chair.”

For the first time since she’d arrived, he actually looked her directly in the eye, then slowly nodded. “You may have, at that.”

“Then that’s all that really matters, isn’t it? I’ll see you first thing tomorrow. Be ready to work your butt off, Devaney.”

He chuckled. “You’re tougher than you used to be, Kelly.”

“You’d better believe it,” she said. “And I don’t have a lot of use for self-pity, so get over it.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said with a salute.

She gave a nod of satisfaction. “It’s always helpful when the client realizes right off who’s in charge. Therapy goes much more smoothly.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind.”

“Not to worry. I’ll make sure of it,” she said, winking at him as she closed the door behind her.

She paused outside and leaned against the wall, unsuccessfully fighting the tears she hadn’t allowed herself to shed in front of him. She’d put on a damn good show for him, but she’d been shaken. What if she couldn’t do what she’d promised? What if she couldn’t get him out of that wheelchair and back on his feet?

“Stop it,” she muttered. Failure was not an option, not with Michael.

As for getting personally involved with a client, that wasn’t an option, either, but she had a horrible feeling it was already too late to stop it.

Chapter Two

“So, how did you and Kelly get along?” Bryan Andrews asked Michael when he stopped by for a beer at the end of the day.

Michael studied his one-time best friend with a narrowed gaze. He still wasn’t sure how much he appreciated Bryan’s unequivocal recommendation of Kelly for the job as his therapist. “Did she do a tour in the marines I don’t know about?”

“Nope.”

“I remember her as a sweet kid. She’s changed.” And that was a massive understatement that didn’t even take into account the pale

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