Kitabı oku: «Their Forever Family», sayfa 5
CHAPTER SEVEN
A TOTALLY GIRLISH squeal erupted from her throat. “Oh, my, this is incredible!” There were so many things to look at all at once out of every window of the plane, she felt as if her head were on a swivel. There was the river, the mountains, cars on the highway, and all kinds of buildings that were growing smaller and smaller.
Duncan’s chuckle sounded warm in her ears. “Keep that up and you’re gonna barf. Pick one side of the plane to look out of.”
That got her attention. So uncool to barf in front of witnesses. “Good to know.”
“Look to your right, there’s the Rio Grande. Locals say it without the emphasis on the e at the end. And I’ve heard people add the word river at the end. It literally translates to river big, so no need to add river on the end.”
“Dead giveaway for tourists, right?” Note to self.
“You got it.”
For the next hour Duncan kept her entertained by pointing out the sights below and didn’t make her one bit nauseated. She was fascinated by all the knobs and dials he tended to. No wonder his truck looked like a small plane on the inside. He was used to it.
“We’re coming in over the property now.”
Rebel looked at a beautiful patchwork of red dirt and green vegetation, whirls of dirt kicked up by a tractor adding another dimension to the scene below. The engine changed tone, and Rebel clutched the seat.
“Don’t worry, just have to slow the plane so we can land.”
“Down there?” She raised her brows and didn’t see a thing large enough to land on. “Uh, where?”
He chuckled. “Yes, down there. Don’t worry. I’ve never missed the airstrip yet.”
“That’s reassuring.”
Duncan expertly guided the plane down until they were just a few feet above the dirt. Rebel cringed and closed her eyes tightly, held her breath.
Then a few bumps, the pressure of the brakes pressed her forward into the seat belt and then flung her back into it as they came to a dusty, bouncy stop unscathed.
“You okay?” Duncan asked, and looked at her.
“I’m okay.”
Duncan reached toward her, his hands cupping her face as he pushed off the headset. “Welcome to Hatch.”
Both doors were flung open from the outside and two young men, bearing a strong resemblance to Duncan, peered in at them.
“Come on, he’s waiting for you.”
Rebel smiled as she stepped out onto solid ground again.
“Rebel, these are my nephews, Jake and Judd,” Duncan said as he introduced them. They rode in a golf cart on a dirt track that paralleled a field of chili. In minutes, they approached a huge, two-story home that reminded her of pictures she’d seen of historic old Mexico. Beautiful, traditional and exotic.
“There he is.”
Rebel noticed a hunched-over old man standing on the porch. He raised a hand, and she waved back, though she knew he couldn’t see her. The old man appeared to lean on something, and she thought it might be a cane or a walker. With the sun bright overhead, she shaded her eyes with one hand and as they neared the house she realized she’d fallen victim to a trick of light and shadow.
The man was six feet tall and as robust as she could imagine any ninety-year-old could be. Duncan had said he was impressive, and Rebel believed him. The cart stopped at the edge of the patio, and Duncan stepped out, then offered a hand to assist her. “Don’t be afraid.”
“I’m not afraid,” Rebel said, and straightened her spine. “I’ve taken on many patients his age. I can handle him.” A snort erupted from one of the nephews in the front seat, but Rebel didn’t know which one.
Duncan walked beside Rebel with anticipation humming through him. He didn’t really know why. They weren’t a couple, they weren’t even dating. The last time he’d introduced a woman to his grandfather it had ended in disaster. The man had seen right through her and had made no bones about what he thought of her.
They’d broken up the next day.
“So this is the lady friend you were tellin’ me about?” he asked, and stepped forward.
“Yes. Allow me to introduce my friend and a nurse, Rebel Taylor. Rebel, this is my grandfather, Rafael McFee, current owner of this impressive empire.”
Rafael held his hand out to Rebel, and she didn’t know whether to shake it or curtsy, so she went with a firm grip. She’d seriously have to amend her mistaken assumption he was going to be elderly, frail and cute. This man was anything but, and she could see how Duncan had inherited his strong, commanding presence and control.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, sir. Duncan has mentioned you several times.” She hoped that was okay.
Without releasing her hand, he gave Duncan a narrow-eyed look. “I’ll bet he did.” His accent was soft with a mixture of Spanish and Scottish inflections. Rafael tucked her hand into his elbow and led the way to an outdoor patio, a portál, if she remembered correctly. “Did he tell you I chased off his last girlfriend?”
Rebel gave a panicked look at Duncan’s enigmatic expression, then returned it to Rafael. “No. No, he didn’t. But as I’m not his girlfriend, I don’t have to worry about you chasing me off, do I?”
“Well, there’s still the matter of you walking into my home brazenly displaying the colors of a rival clan, now, isn’t there?”
Rebel laughed and patted him on the arm. “Now, that’s a whole other issue.”
They settled at a large wooden table with chairs made of wood and cowhide, and an older Hispanic woman emerged from inside, carrying a tray of iced tea. She didn’t have the manner of a hired member of staff, but carried herself as if she had been around this family for a long, long time.
“I’m Lupe, and I run this madhouse,” she said, then turned to Rebel. “Now, be on your best manner.”
Rebel raised her brows and Duncan said, “She’s talking to him, not us.”
“Oh.” She paused. “Oh! So you’ve made a habit of misbehavior, have you?” Rebel asked, innocently setting her chin on her hand and looking right at Rafael.
Duncan tilted back in his chair and roared out a laugh. “I knew this was going to be fun.”
The scowl on Rafael’s face should have made her cringe, but she only smiled, comforted by Duncan’s relaxed demeanor. He was right. It was fun.
“So, tell me, why aren’t you dating my grandson? Don’t tell me he’s not good enough for you either.” Rafael turned to face Duncan. “Don’t tell me she’s like that last one. Only seeing dollar signs.” He paused, thinking. “Or was that the one before that? The last one didn’t make it to the altar either.” He slapped his hand on the table and Rebel jumped. “Dammit, Duncan. You’re supposed to find a woman you can make babies with. I want to make sure my favorite grandson has his life in order before I die.” The scowl on his face was enough to make anyone cringe, but Duncan hardly looked disturbed.
Duncan snorted and reached out to take Rebel’s hand for a second. “That’s about enough of the grilling.” He leaned forward, getting into Rafael’s face. “And I’ve never been your favorite grandson.”
“Duncan certainly is a fine doctor and a fine man, but the fact is I don’t date. It has nothing to do with him.” There. She said it out aloud, and she hadn’t been struck by lightning. She looked overhead. It could still happen. Looked like thunderheads were coming their way. Outrageously huge ones, racing across the horizon.
“Why not?” The frown grew even more fierce. “Don’t you like men?”
“I like men just fine.” She glanced down and fiddled with her glass. “Things just haven’t worked out that way for me. So I’ve decided to let go of that part of my life.”
“Why? There must be something wrong with the men you’re picking, then.”
“Yes. Well.” Rebel’s insides tightened a bit, not wanting to get into her tragic family history the second they arrived, but it seemed they were on the edge of it.
“Seriously, Rafael. Enough.” Duncan defended Rebel. She didn’t need that sort of treatment. “Rebel’s decisions are her own and it’s not for us to pry. She hasn’t even had a cup of coffee, and you’re jumping down her throat.”
“It’s not natural, that’s for sure,” Rafael said, and eased back into his chair.
“If I’ve offended you, sir, I apologize, but, as Duncan says, this is my own business.” She stood and wrapped the plaid around her shoulders as if it would protect her. “You’ll have to excuse me for a while,” she said, and walked away from the table, back out the gate they’d entered and away from the house. Where she was going, she didn’t know, but she needed a breather. Now.
Her strides lengthened until she was almost running away from the house. If she’d worn better shoes, she would have raced, but her flats weren’t designed for that. And there were too many rocks and stickers on the road.
Minutes later she heard the crunch of tires on the dirt, but no engine. She kept going, not looking behind her. It was probably one of the field workers she’d seen, and she wrapped her tartan around her shoulders tightly. Certainly wouldn’t be Duncan chasing after her. He wasn’t the kind to chase.
“Rebel, wait.”
It really was him. “No.”
“Seriously, please wait.” He drove the golf cart closer and pulled alongside her as she huffed along the dirt road. A small rock had gotten into one shoe and now she limped along, pain in every step. But it was nothing to the pain in her heart. She didn’t want to have to explain herself to anyone. Her lifestyle was a choice. A personal one. Telling it didn’t change it.
The sky darkened further as the thunderclouds raced closer and drops of rain began to fall all around her while Duncan was safe in the little golf cart.
“I’ll stop if you’ll stop.” What a ploy.
“I’m not stopping.” It was a matter of stubborn pride now. The Irish always could out-stubborn the Scottish. Or at least that’s what her mother had told her. Rebel was about to find out.
“Then I guess I’m not either.”
When the skies opened up minutes later and lightning sizzled too close, she jumped into the golf cart. “Let’s go. I can be mad at you later.”
Duncan guided the lumbering golf cart toward a large barn, which looked really far away. Rain pelted down on them and Duncan began to drive slower.
“What are you doing? Go faster, not slower.”
“The battery is dying. Damned kids never plug anything in. We’re going to have to run for it.”
“Oh, no.” She got out of the questionable shelter of the cart and ran alongside Duncan. They were getting closer to the barn when mud engulfed one of her shoes, and she was forced to stop.
“Come on!” Duncan raced back to her.
“I’m stuck!” She was not leaving her shoe.
Like any superhero ready to save the damsel in distress, he bent at the waist, put her over his shoulder and ran for it.
Rebel screamed the whole way.
Duncan stumbled into the barn and collapsed into a pile of hay as he lowered Rebel down. Or tried to. It was more of a controlled fall than a gracefully executed maneuver. Seemed like he was always stumbling into something when he was around Rebel.
“Are you okay?” Riding on his shoulder couldn’t have been comfortable.
“I’m fine. Just soaked.” She pushed her dripping hair up and out of her face. “That storm came up quickly.”
“Welcome to monsoon season.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously, but that’s not what I mean. I meant okay about what happened back there. He’s a cantankerous old buzzard, but that was going overboard, even for him.” Duncan slid his hand down her arm until he reached her hand. “I’m sorry. I should have stepped in sooner, but I didn’t realize he was going for the jugular until too late.”
“It’s okay, really. I should be used to people asking me questions like that.”
“Well, no, you shouldn’t. Your personal decisions are nobody’s business, not even mine. Though I don’t understand, it’s really none of my business.” He wanted to, but it was such a waste of life to not fully enjoy it. And for someone as vibrant and lively as Rebel, it was equally sinful in his eyes. Especially when that life could be ripped out from under you at a moment’s notice. Like in a car wreck.
“Thank you.” Giving herself a verbal shake, she sat on a bale of hay and patted the space beside her. “Sit down. Why don’t you tell me about this monsoon season? I’ve never heard of it.”
Duncan shook himself like a dog. He dropped onto the spot beside her. “It’s the rain this time of the year that makes or breaks a chili season.” Though he was soaked to the bone, it didn’t bother him. He was warming up watching Rebel try to make headway with her hair, which was a wild tangle. He itched to dig his hands into the mass and test it for himself.
“I had no idea.” She huffed one last strand out of her face.
Pieces of straw poked out from her shirt, and he reached to remove that. She looked up at him, and she’d never looked more beautiful, more alluring than she did sitting there soaking wet on a hay bale in his grandfather’s barn.
“Rebel.” He reached out and cupped her face so she looked up at him. “I want to kiss you again.”
She didn’t say anything, but held his gaze. He wanted her with everything he had in him, but she was much more fragile and vulnerable than he’d known. Hiding behind all that fire and sass was a profoundly bruised soul. He leaned closer, drinking in the sweet fragrance of the hay, the fresh aroma of the rain falling around them, the unique perfume of Rebel’s body, and he leaned closer still. Her eyes dilated, and her gaze dropped to his mouth.
He’d only intended to give her a small kiss. But his appetite to taste her had been whetted that morning. When his lips touched hers, she took a deep breath, as if scenting him, breathing his essence, and he was lost. Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he brought her fully against him. She tasted sweet, like the rain on his lips. Pliant, she relaxed beneath his touch and parted her lips to his questing tongue.
Lord, the man could kiss. Unable to deny herself this moment, she wrapped her arms around his middle and hung on as he kissed her like he couldn’t get enough of her. His hand dove into her hair and cupped her head while his mouth explored hers.
She’d been kissed plenty of times, had had a few short-term relationships that had been purely physical, but she’d never been kissed like this. Warmth began with his lips pressed against hers and spread to her chest and abdomen, inspiring surges of pleasure that made her want to stay in his arms forever.
Duncan could stay here, just like this, wrapped up with Rebel for the rest of the day, the rest of the night. Doves cooing overhead only lent to the atmosphere. Making love all afternoon would be something he’d never forget, but he knew she wasn’t ready for that yet.
Rebel wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer, aching to have him against her skin. When his hand cupped her breast and his thumb traced her nipple, she knew she was in over her head. Telling him no or pulling away wasn’t one of the options she was thinking of right now.
The lights of a vehicle shone in the doorway, and they broke apart.
“Someone’s come to get us, I think.” Duncan pressed a kiss to her nose and helped her to sit. “Dammit.”
The SUV raced down the road and nearly drove into the barn. Rebel watched as Duncan changed, his radar on full alert. This wasn’t the usual rescue of people stranded in the rain.
One of the boys burst from the vehicle and dashed into the barn. “Come quick. He’s in trouble.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
DUNCAN GRABBED HER hand and they hurried through the rain and into the SUV.
“What’s wrong?” Duncan leaned forward from the backseat.
“He’s having another spell.” Jake skipped the road and drove right through the middle of what had once been a promising field of chili, but was now a straight shot to the house.
“Another spell? What do you mean, another?”
“Last week he couldn’t breathe, but it passed, and he wouldn’t let anyone call you.”
“Dammit.”
“He’s so stubborn, he thinks he’s invincible.”
In minutes the SUV stopped in front of the house. “Go to the plane and get my medical kit from the outside cargo hold.”
“Got it.” Jake sped away before Duncan even closed the door.
Rebel waited, anxious, for him. He was more serious than she’d ever seen him. Concern for his grandfather was evident on his face and the grim set of his mouth.
“It’ll be okay. We’ll take care of him.” Somehow she wanted to reassure him.
Duncan nodded and led the way inside. Lupe met them at the door. She clutched her hands in her apron. “Where is he?”
“In the den. He can’t breathe, mijo, just like last time.”
Without a word, Duncan strode to the den, with Rebel steps behind him. If his grandfather died it would be because of pure stubborn pride. Or Duncan would strangle him. One or the other. Rafael could inspire the most patient of men to murder.
He sat on the couch, eyes closed, his color a waxy, greenish-yellow. That indicated a cardiac issue. “How long has this been going on?”
“‘Bout…half…hour.” His breathing came in short gasps, and Duncan could hear crackles in his lungs, even without a stethoscope.
Rebel sat on the other side of Rafael, and she placed his hand in her lap, her fingers on his pulse. “He’s clammy, tachycardic, and I can hear fluid in his lungs.”
Her demeanor snapped him out of grandson mode and into doctor mode. “Where’s Jake? I need that kit.”
Lupe dashed to the door. “Here he comes now.” She pulled the door open as the young man ran through.
“Here it is.” What he set down looked to Rebel like a giant black fishing-tackle box with a red cross painted on it.
Duncan flipped the double clamps on it and opened it to reveal a stash of medications and equipment equal to any ER crash cart she’d ever seen.
“I’m going to call my mother and let her know,” Jake said.
“Dear God…not…your mother,” Rafael gasped.
“Just go for now,” Duncan said, and Jake hurried from the room but lingered in the doorway, his eyes wide.
Duncan extracted a stethoscope from the box, and Rebel fished out a pulse oximeter, a small monitor that fit on a finger to check the oxygen level and whether a patient’s condition required supplemental oxygen.
“Sat’s seventy-two—way too low.” That meant his lungs were full of fluid and oxygen wasn’t getting into his bloodstream the way it was supposed to.
“Get an IV in him. There’s a butterfly setup on the left side.” Quickly, Rebel got an IV access in the back of his right hand.
“Got it.”
As she dug into the kit for the proper equipment to administer the medication, she noted that the room had started to fill with people. Lots and lots of people. Migrant workers, whose lives and livelihoods depended on this man, showed up and stood at the threshold of the room. Others stood inside the door. All were grim-faced and staring.
Rebel began to feel uncomfortable with so many strangers staring at her. Fumbling with the packing of the IV insertion supplies, she dropped it twice before being able to open it properly. What was wrong with her? She was a skilled nurse, and she could perform an IV setup in her sleep. So why now were her hands trembling like she was a new nurse fresh out of school?
That little voice in a dark place in her heart told her she knew why. It told her she was beginning to get sick. Just like her family had. Just like she’d known she would.
“Do you think someone could make coffee?” she asked Duncan.
His gaze flashed to her, and he frowned. “Seriously? You need coffee now?”
She wanted to whack him one for his lack of insight, but she refrained. Given the circumstances with his distress over this grandfather’s sudden illness, she had to cut him a break. He wasn’t thinking as clearly as he normally would if he were in the ER with control of the situation. “N-o-o-o. It will give them something to do and ease the tension in the room, which is about to strangle me. We also need oxygen. Is there any sort of oxygen machine we could hook him up to?” It would give her a little space to control her own racing thoughts and steady her hands again before she put in the IV.
Duncan closed his eyes for a second as he realized her suggestion was brilliant. “Sorry. You’re right.” He’d been too focused to see a solution to the congestion in the house. Turning slightly, he spoke to Lupe in Spanish, and then to the people gathered in the room.
Lupe clapped her hands like a drill sergeant and shooed everyone out. One man stepped forward. “I get the oxygen.” He raced from the room, plowing through the rest of the crowd now that he had a mission to accomplish.
The atmosphere eased as people filed out, each offering a quick sign of the cross for Rafael’s recovery. Rebel could take a deep breath for the first time since she’d sat down.
“I’ll take your blood pressure, too.” She applied the cuff to his left arm and performed the short procedure. “One-eighty over eighty-five.”
“Give him a diuretic.”
“How much?” Rebel was already reaching for the vial. The tremor in her hands was less visible, but she still felt it on the inside, down in her gut.
“Twenty now, twenty more in thirty minutes if he doesn’t respond.”
Rebel dropped the vial in her lap, cursed quietly as she wiped the perspiration from her palms and picked it up in a tight grip.
“Don’t worry, Rebel. It’s an unexpected situation, but don’t worry. Take a breath, and we’ll get through this together.” Duncan gave a glance at his grandfather, who had not opened his eyes. “We’ll all get through it.”
Finally, she drew up the prescribed dosage in a syringe and administered it through the IV, grateful Duncan was putting the shaking of her hands down to nerves. He couldn’t know what she knew. Someday, she knew she was going to get sick, but it was like a time bomb, waiting to go off. Distraction and focus on the task at hand was the way out of her mental chaos.
“This will ease your breathing by pulling the fluid from your lungs, but it’s going to make you pee like a racehorse.” She gave him the information she’d give to any patient.
“If you…say…so.”
“I do.” She patted his knee, knowing he needed comfort, even if it was the last thing he’d ask for.
She glanced at Duncan. His gaze was glued to Rafael’s chest. She wanted to comfort him, too. This was what she did, what she was good at, and she shoved aside her own tremors to give them her best.
Leaning over, she placed a hand on Duncan’s arm until he looked at her. “He’s going to be okay.”
After placing a hand over hers, he gave a terse nod. Not that he didn’t believe her, but as a physician he knew too much. People who knew too much worried even more. They knew what could happen, knew the worst-case scenario, and always went there mentally. Plan for the worst, hope for the best, was her motto. Personally and professionally. She’d had her will made out for ten years now and had purchased life insurance with a long-term care rider for when she became ill. She just hadn’t expected it to be now.
A shiver made her twitch and their dash into the rain was starting to reveal its unforeseen consequences. Though the room should have been warm, she felt chilled. The effect of adrenaline only lasted so long and the kick she’d gotten was fading.
Duncan’s phone rang. “It’s Juanita. One of my sisters,” he added for Rebel’s benefit.
Rafael clucked his tongue, just as one of the men returned with a very dusty oxygen tank. If it worked, who cared what it looked like? Duncan stood and answered the phone, leaving them to the task of getting the oxygen hooked up.
After pulling a tubing package from Duncan’s kit, Rebel placed it on Rafael’s nose and turned on the tank. “Now take some deep breaths. Slow and steady.”
Amazingly, Rafael did what she said and slowed his breathing, though she knew it was very difficult. “Listen to the sound of my voice. I’ll tell you what to do.” She kept up the light chatter for Rafael, but watched as Duncan wandered away, listening to Juanita pontificate in his ear.
Lupe entered the room with a tray of coffee and sat it on the table in front of them. “He trusts you, you know?”
Rebel reached out for the warm cup Lupe handed her and added a few drips of creamer, not too picky about the flavor at the moment. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Duncan. He trusts you, or he wouldn’t have left you alone with him.” She nodded at Rafael.
“I…can hear…you,” Rafael said, and opened his eyes to slits, glaring his displeasure.
“Oh, you.” Lupe inhaled a tremulous breath and gave him a light rap on the wrist, then took his hand and held it. “Be quiet, you old goat.” The words she said were at odds with the concern and love in her eyes. Rebel was starting to get a clue there was more going on between them than a professional relationship.
Who was she to pass judgment? Her family had been full of oddities. Rafael turned his hand over to clasp Lupe’s in his. What a sweet gesture, to see their aging hands intertwined. Something she had accepted would never happen to her. Especially not now, since she’d noticed a tremor. There was nothing to stop her illness now.
Rebel cleared her throat and placed the oxygen monitor back on Rafael’s finger. “I’m sure Duncan just believes I’m a competent nurse.”
Lupe raised her brows and gave her a look that made Rebel reconsider. “I don’t think so, mija. I know him. He trusts no one to care for Rafael.”
“I see.” Another shiver made Rebel twitch. This time Lupe saw it.
“Oh, mija, look at you. Sitting here like a drowned rat!”
Duncan wandered in, still listening to Juanita rant on the phone, but his gaze remained sharp and focused on the scene.
“It’s okay.” She clutched the cup. “The coffee will warm me up.”
“Nonsense. You’ll have a shower, and I’ll make you both some of my special hot chocolate.” She motioned for Duncan to come closer.
“Juanita, get a hold of yourself and take a sedative or something. I gotta go.” He closed the phone, but Rebel could still hear the voice on the other end as he cut her off.
“Everything okay?” Though he spoke to Rebel, he watched Rafael.
“His color is better and his breathing is, too.”
“And she’s soaked to the bone, mijo!” Lupe said with great concern.
For the first time since they’d entered the house, Duncan grinned. “Well, so am I.”
“Bah!” Lupe waved away his statement. “Rebel needs a shower and dry clothes before she gets a cold.” The housekeeper stood, once again in charge of herself and the situation. She took Rebel’s hand and led her away. “You take care of things for a while.”
Rebel went with Lupe, but cast a look at Duncan, who could only stare as the most interesting woman he’d met in years was being held hostage by his grandfather’s girlfriend. They soon disappeared upstairs, and a door slammed.
“Duncan! Get over here. She’s right. I have to pee like a racehorse!”
A light-hearted sensation filled him. All was well in the world if his grandfather could yell again. He shivered, casting a longing glance upstairs. He was going to need a shower, too. Too bad it would have to be by himself.
After helping Rafael to the bathroom then returning him to the couch and the oxygen, Duncan took a shower of his own. He dressed in clothing he’d left on a previous trip, but he wondered what Rebel would be wearing as she hadn’t brought anything with her. It was too much to hope that it would be skimpy.
As he descended the stairs and scraped his hair back from his face, he expected to see Rebel sitting with Rafael, but she was nowhere in the vicinity. And neither was Rafael.
“I put him to bed, and she’s out on the portál,” Lupe called from the kitchen. “I’m making my hot chocolate for you. I’ll bring it out in a few minutes.”
He found Rebel ensconced on one of the settees, with her feet tucked beneath her and covered by a Pendleton blanket.
What a picture she made. After the shower, her hair seemed curlier and luxurious. He wanted to sink his hands into it and pull her closer to him, pull her fragrance into his mind so he would never forget it. The firelight cast a golden glow over her and he paused, absorbing the image of her quiet beauty. He knew he didn’t make a noise or hardly breathed, but she turned. A few beats of his heart went missing.
And then she smiled.
And he knew he could never be her friend. He wanted way more than that. Especially after that kiss that afternoon had set his blood on fire.
Without directing his feet, they moved him over to where Rebel sat, and he settled beside her. Placing a hand on the back of the settee, his hand tunneled beneath her hair so he could make contact with the skin on her neck. She was such a beauty. Vastly different from the women he’d known from society who’d only seen the prestige in his name and the dollars in his pocket, convinced their beauty alone would win him over.
Rebel had none of those issues. She had others, but he was willing to work on them. She needed a friend, and he wanted to be that for her, as well as something else he wasn’t quite willing to name. Lover? Best friend? Partner? He didn’t know and didn’t want to think about it right now and pushed aside thoughts of his fiancée. Although it had been a long time ago, guilt from his inability to save her resurfaced. Right now, all he wanted to do was put his arms around Rebel and never let go.
“This is lovely. Who knew there would be a need to have a fire on a summer night?”
“Summer nights are the perfect time for a fire.” There was a fire in him that he wanted to explore. Leaning closer, he stopped just short of placing his lips against hers. “There’s been a fire between us since we met, whether you want to admit it or not.”
A small gasp came from her mouth, but she didn’t pull away and she didn’t deny it. How could she when the proof was in front of her face? The proof was in that kiss and the way her body reacted to his.
