by Carrie Elks
“Where should we start?” he asked, her ignoring the drumming need for her.
“What type of diabetic are you?”
Well that was an easy start. “Type one.”
She nodded. “Why did you run out of insulin?”
He gave a rueful smile. “I thought I’d brought enough with me, but I was an idiot and ran out of my fast acting insulin. I should have packed more carefully. I usually do, but I was distracted as I left town.”
“Fast acting insulin?” she echoed. “What’s that?”
“I take two types, long acting insulin that keeps my levels regular during the day, and the fast acting insulin which I inject before mealtimes.”
She ran the tip of her tongue along her lip. “But couldn’t you have gone to a pharmacy here rather than call me?”
“I don’t have a prescription in the States yet. I’m using up my Scottish insulin. Which was one of the reasons I didn’t want you to tell my mother. Going to a doctor when I got back was the first thing I should have done.”
Becca tipped her head to the side. “One of the reasons? What are the others.”
“She worries about me and I don’t want to cause her any more anxiety.” He’d done enough of that over the years. “I figure what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.”
“Why did you call me? Surely you could’ve gotten anybody to bring it up.” She was tracing a pattern on her thigh. It was distracting.
A half-smile pulled at Daniel’s face. “I couldn’t think of anybody else. I don’t have a lot of friends.” And maybe he’d wanted to see her. Even though she’d been the reason he’d left in the first place.
Her lips twitched. “Maybe you should be nicer to people.”
He bit down a smile. She knew how to push all his buttons. “Maybe.”
“What would you have done if I refused to bring it to you?” She tipped her head to the side, her eyes hooded.
“I would have called my mother’s doctor and begged him to send through a script, and probably asked the kitchen to make me a protein based meal.” He wrinkled his nose. “I guess at the worst I would have called my mom directly and opened myself up for a barrage of recriminations.” He smiled again. “But luckily I didn’t have to.
His legs were beginning to ache, but he didn’t want to sit down. The distance between where she was sitting and he was standing was necessary right now.
“Do you always inject in your hip?” Her gaze dropped to his abdomen. He bit down a smile at the way her cheeks flushed at the memory.
“No. I inject in a lot of places. My outer arms, my thighs, either side of my abdomen. The trick is to not inject in the same place too many times, otherwise it causes problems. A build up of fat will stop the body from absorbing the insulin.”
“Why do you keep your diabetes a secret?” She lifted her chin, looking at him carefully. There was something in her gaze that made him want to breathe her in. To touch her, to kiss her.
Damn it, he needed to get under control.
“I wasn’t expecting this many questions.” It was a joke, but it fell short. She lifted an eyebrow, giving him a pointed stare.
“I just drove two hours to give you life saving drugs. I figure I’m owed an explanation.”
He exhaled softly, still drinking her in. “You are. And it’s not a secret, I just don’t want everybody knowing my business.”
“Why not? It’s an illness not a weakness.”
Daniel gave a short laugh. “You obviously didn’t grow up with my father.”
Becca blinked, opening her mouth, then closing it again. For a moment there was silence between them. It screamed louder than their voices.
“How old were you when you found out you were diabetic?” Her voice was like a gentle caress.
“Seven.”
“That’s young.” Her eyes were soft, too. “It must have been hard.”
Yeah, it was. But he didn’t want to talk about that. It was water under the bridge.
“I’ve learned to live with it. I have to take care when I’m sick, and if I get an injury it can be a pain. But it’s part of me now.”
She was looking at him carefully. Like she had a question she didn’t want to ask. Daniel felt himself smiling again. She was so damn mercurial. One minute shouting at him, the next minute pulling back.
It was enticing. And exciting. Who didn’t love the chase?
“What is it?” he asked her, eyeing her carefully.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“I said I’d answer your questions. So hit me with them.” He ran a finger along his jaw, the roughness reminding him he hadn’t shaved this morning.
“The diabetes. Is that why you’re so…” She drew in a deep breath, as though to arm herself. “So cranky sometimes.”
Daniel burst out laughing. “No, Becca,” he said, shaking his head. “The asshole is one hundred percent me. Nothing to do with diabetes.”
“Sometimes when you look at me, your eyes are so dark I think you’re going to murder me.”
They were? “If I murdered you, I wouldn’t be able to ask you for help when I forget my insulin,” he said lightly. A ping from the elevator made him exhale with relief. Saved by the food. “That’s our sandwiches. Are we finished, or do you have anything else to ask?” He looked at her over his shoulder as he walked to the lobby.
“I’m finished, for now. But I may have more questions later.”
He bit down a smile, relieved she couldn’t see her face. “Something to look forward to,” he murmured.
Chapter Eleven
“You eat like a maniac,” Daniel said, as Becca swallowed the last bite of her sandwich.
“So would you if you grew up with four brothers. Either I ate fast or I starved when they stole all the food off my plate. I chose survival.”
He smiled, and damn if it didn’t make her whole body ache. It was like the tiniest chink in his armor had opened up, giving her a glance beyond the hard shell he projected. If she’d felt attracted to him before she’d arrived in Charleston, right now she was fighting it on two fronts.
Daniel being angry was exciting enough. Daniel being nice?
He was dynamite.
“Growing up with two brothers was enough.” He shot her an interested look. “Your family seems close.”
Becca smiled, relaxing now that she was on more comfortable ground. “It’s huge and noisy and we have a lot of fun. They drive me crazy, of course, but since they’ve all moved back to Hartson’s Creek and met their significant others they’re a little more mellow. Plus I get the added bonus of having lots of nephews.”
He blinked as though he didn’t quite get the concept.
“How about your family?” she asked. “Are you close?”
Another laugh. She was getting used to the sound of them coming from his lips. “Not really. I’m close to Nathan, of course. But Nina and Lawrence… well we only saw them during the summer and holidays. They’re older and Lawrence resented my mother, which led to him disliking Nathan and me, too.”
“Why did he resent your mother?” Becca tipped her head to the side, licking the crumbs from her fingertips. Daniel’s gaze dipped down and narrowed.
“You must have heard the stories. I thought they were rife at GSC?”
Becca shook her head. “Nope. And I’m not big into gossip, so even if I heard them, I wouldn’t pay much attention.”
He looked surprised at that. He was such a closed book. It was as though he hated anybody taking a peek he wasn’t willing to show them.
And yet right now it felt as though he was opening. Just a tiny bit. Enough for her to see a pinprick of light on the inside.
“My father was married to Lawrence and Nina’s mother when he fell in love with mine. It was a mess. Not just at home, but at the distillery, too. My mom’s dad, my grandfather, was his business partner. He died within a year, and a lot of people say it was because of the stress my mom and dad’s relationship caused.” Daniel looked at
her with those clear blue eyes. “The distillery nearly went under, and my dad’s divorce with his first wife was apparently nasty. I don’t know all of the details because I wasn’t born yet, but I know that Lawrence and Nina suffered a lot.”
“They can’t blame you for that. You didn’t even exist.” Becca sipped at her coffee, glad for the caffeine injection. It was going to be a long drive home tonight.
“You’re assuming that people think rationally. They don’t.”
“That’s very true.”
Their gazes connected again. It was getting stupid how often it was happening. “I guess that’s why you freaked when you saw me and Nathan hugging.”
“I didn’t freak. I was just surprised. Especially when I found out you were an employee.”
“You’re messing with the staff now? What kind of idiot are you?” Her impression of Daniel was woeful. But it made him smile.
“Is that what I said?”
She nodded. “Pretty much word for word.”
“Well, he turned out not to be an idiot at all. Which is good.” He looked down at his hands, the smile still playing on his lips. He was looking better now that he’d had something to eat. Less pale and sallow. His eyes were brighter, his jaw less tight. She glanced across at the windows to the skyline of the city.
“I should be going,” she said, sighing softly. She really didn’t want to leave. Not now that they were finally talking. “It’s getting late and I don’t want to be half asleep as I drive home.”
He looked up, his eyes assessing. “You could stay.”
Becca blinked with surprise.
“I mean, you can stay in the guest room.” He pointed at the door opposite his own. “I’m having dinner with Lawrence and Nina tonight. Since you’re so good with families, you could join me.”
She was in shock at his offer, even if it was completely innocent. “I haven’t got anything to wear.” The words escaped her lips before she could think them through.
“That’s easily remedied. If that’s your only objection.” He took their plates and put them back on the room service tray. “But don’t feel like you have to stay if you don’t want to.”
Oh she wanted to. In a stupidly bad way. “I’d need a toothbrush,” she said faintly. “And pajamas, too.”
“Is that a strange way of saying yes?” He looked amused.
Becca took a deep breath in. “Yes.” It felt more significant than it should. It was only dinner and staying in a bedroom that would otherwise be empty, nothing more. And yet there was a pulse in her throat that told her it wasn’t just that.
It was the possibility of something. She just didn’t know what.
“I’ll leave first thing, so I can get to work on time.” Her voice was soft.
“That would be sensible.” He nodded. “Us arriving at the same time would cause unnecessary gossip. Something I think we’d both be keen to avoid.”
She looked him straight in the eye. “We would.”
He stood and wiped his hands on a cloth napkin. “I’ll ask the concierge to bring you some things. What size are you?”
“Four.” She felt amused that he was going to arrange clothes for her. Like she was in a regency romance and the duke was buying the beautiful-yet-destitute heroine a ball gown. “Eight in shoes.”
He picked up the phone, pressing the zero. “We have a while before we need to leave. Why don’t you go take a shower, relax a little? There’s a robe in the guest bathroom, and toiletries, too.”
Becca nodded. Right now a shower would be good. Maybe even a cold one. Because she needed something to shock her out of this mood. This weird, dreamy yearning she felt toward the man who she’d first thought was an asshole.
But now he was getting under her skin.
Yeah, a cold shower and a long hard look at herself. That should do it.
Twisting the corkscrew into the bottle of Sauvignon he’d ordered, Daniel pulled it out and poured two small glasses. They probably both needed the liquid courage before heading out for dinner. Daniel because he was going to see family he hadn’t set eyes on in years, and Becca because she didn’t know what she was getting herself into.
He blamed himself for that. And yet the thought of having her beside him at the restaurant table calmed him.
Replacing the bottle in the refrigerator, he wondered what the hell he’d been thinking when he’d asked her to stay. Sure, he was worried about her driving home in the dark, especially when she’d spent almost three hours driving here without a break. But there had been other options.
He could have offered to pay for a separate room. Maybe even arrange a driver for her.
Or treated her like any other employee and not worried about how she was going to get home.
That way he wouldn’t be staring at the guest bedroom door, knowing she was behind it and wondering how he was going to deal with that fact when they got back from the restaurant this evening.
As though she could feel the heat of his gaze through the hard wood door, Becca opened it, standing in the doorway, her green eyes wide as she looked at him.
The dress the concierge had ordered fit perfectly. The black silk bodice moulded to her every curve, the skirt flaring out at the waist until it stopped at her enticing thighs. Her hair was twisted into an intricate bun at the nape of her neck, exposing the smooth skin of her throat.
“Do I look okay?”
He looked down, surprised to see his fingers gripping the kitchen counter like he was about to fall back, his knuckles bleached white.
“You look beautiful.” His voice was thick as he returned his gaze to hers. “We have five minutes until the car picks us up. Would you like a glass of wine?”
A smile pulled at her lips. “That would be lovely, thank you.” When she walked over, he got a better view of her shoes. Black straps criss-crossed her tan skin, tying in a bow at the ankle. As she got closer, he realized she smelled as good as she looked. He’d have to ask the concierge the name of the perfume he’d brought up.
“I had to put my hair up,” she told him as he handed her a glass. “I didn’t have any way to curl it and I hate it when it’s too straight.”
He glanced at her neck again. “It looks perfect like that.”
Sipping at her wine, she gave him an assessing look. “You’re full of compliments tonight.”
“I was brought up well.”
“Is that what they teach you at prep school?” she asked. “No wonder the world is full of rich charmers.”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “And what did they teach you at school?”
“How to avoid rich charmers.”
He bit down a smile and clinked his glass against hers. “To rich charmers and fending them off.”
She smiled. “To spotting bullshit from a fifty mile radius.”
“You’re going to be spotting a lot of bullshit tonight,” he told her, putting his glass on the counter. “The place will be reeking of it.”
“Why are you going out to dinner with your family if you don’t like them?” she asked him. “Isn’t life too short?”
“I need their support to move forward on the single malt. They own part of the business.”
“And you and Nathan own the rest?”
“And my mother. She owns the majority share.”
Becca frowned. “So why do you need their agreement? Can’t you out vote them? I can’t see your mom going against you.”
“She always abstains. She has this thing about family being more important than anything.” He shrugged. “Maybe it’s the guilt that she broke their family up, I don’t know. But unless I persuade Lawrence and Nina to agree, then the project is over.”
Becca bit down a smile. “Your mom is a hardass.”
“I know.” He raised an eyebrow. “And it’s damn annoying.”
She put her empty glass in the wet bar sink, and turned. “Now I know where you get it from. Take me out to dinner and let me meet your family. I have a feeling they’ll
make mine look like the Brady Bunch.”
Chapter Twelve
Daniel climbed out of the back seat, extending his hand to Becca. She grasped it, trying to exit the car as elegantly as possible, considering she was wearing a short dress and sexy high heels. It felt natural to keep their hands clasped together as they walked up the steps to Jessie’s Restaurant, an old colonial-style townhouse in the center of town.
Catching a glimpse of their reflections in the glass of the door, Becca swallowed hard. She looked like a different person in these clothes. More sophisticated and assured. In a weird way, she felt it, too.
Daniel was wearing a navy suit with slim pants that were expertly tailored to his body. With his pale blue shirt and burgundy tie he looked heartstoppingly handsome.
“You sure you want to do this?” he murmured as he pushed at the door. There was a quizzical expression on his face.
“Of course.” She smiled at him, not willing to show any weakness. “I’m hungry.”
The corners of his eyes crinkled. “Don’t tell me that I didn’t warn you.”
There was this strange intimacy between them. Becca found herself liking it a little too much. Maybe it was the fact she’d driven over two hours to help him, or his confession about his illness that made her heart ache for his childhood self.
Or the fact that right now it seemed like them against the world. Whatever it was, he didn’t seem in any hurry to release her hand as they walked inside and he spoke quietly to the maître d’. She wasn’t exactly desperate to release his, either. She liked the warmth of his palm, the feeling of his fingers curled around hers. He had a firm grasp that made her feel secure.
“Ah, Mr. Carter.” The maître d’ gave Daniel a warm smile. “The rest of your party is already here. Let me show you to your table.”
He walked them toward a large circular table at the center of the restaurant. Daniel’s hold on her hand tightened a little as four people stood up. The man on the left was tall and slim – thin, even – his hair sandy and thick, and his long face tapered to a point at his chin. Next to him was a slim brunette, her dark hair was a cloud of waves to her shoulders. She was looking at Daniel with soft eyes, her lips slightly parted.