Ronnie? Kissing him?
While her mouth was soft and sweet, and she certainly had a way with a kiss, he couldn’t bring himself to kiss her back. This was Ronnie, of all people, and hers weren’t the lips from his fantasies.
She pulled away just as he started to. Thankfully. Because he and Ronnie were pals. Buds. He’d hate to have to get rough with her.
A smile split her face. “Nothing. I knew it. It was just the moment.”
“Ronnie, I’m not sure what this is about, but we’re just friends. You know that, right?”
“Is that what you think? Thank God, because after last night, I didn’t know if you thought what I thought, which was a pretty irrational, stupid thing to think. I mean, it was just one kiss under unusual circumstances.”
“Last night?”
“Yeah. The kiss.”
“What kiss—?”
“Danny?” The soft voice came from behind him.
He jerked around to see Wanda standing in the lounge doorway, her arms overloaded with books, a startled expression on her face that told him she’d witnessed the kiss.
Startled, as in affected, as in maybe, just maybe, finding another woman kissing him bothered her.
He wasn’t sure why he didn’t dismiss the thought. This was Wanda I-can-have-any-jock-I-want Deluca. Why would she care whether or not another woman kissed him? She wouldn’t.
She did.
It was something in her eyes, a strange light that he’d never seen before, or maybe he’d just never noticed.
“I…” She licked her full, peach-tinted lips. “I didn’t mean to catch you at a bad time. I thought since we didn’t get a chance to meet last night—” she licked her lips again and heat shot straight to his jock “—you might quiz me a little while before my test.”
“He’s all yours.” Ronnie started to turn away, but Danny grabbed her by the arm and swung her back around.
For the first time in his life, he didn’t worry about what. Wanda might think of him, good, bad, or not at all. He wanted to give her something to think about.
“Now, honey, don’t get all mad,” he said to Ronnie. “I told you, I’m sorry, but it’s over.”
She cast him a puzzled look. “What’s over?”
“Us. You and me. Over.” He gave Wanda a shrug. “I keep telling her to move on, but she can’t seem to keep her hands off me.”
“What are you talking…?” Ronnie’s words faded as Danny rolled his gaze toward Wanda and silently begged her to play along. Understanding lit her eyes. “Oh, us. You and me and the fact that I can’t keep my hands off you even though I know it’s over. That’s what you’re talking about.”
“I never knew you two were going out,” Wanda said.
“We weren’t,” Danny replied. “It was just sex.”
His arm screamed as Ronnie took off a hunk of flesh with a discreet pinch that nearly made his knees buckle. He expected to see smoke blowing out of her ears, but instead she grinned up at him.
“Mind-blowing sex.” She shivered. “I get chills just thinking about it. It’s no wonder I’m lovesick. Sorry I disgraced myself again, Love Muffin, but I just can’t stay away. You understand, don’t you, Wanda? I mean, when a girl finds a man who has such strong hands and knows how to use them …” She shook her head and bit back a fake sob. “I can’t even think about it, or I’m liable to burst into tears, and I’ve embarrassed myself enough for one day. I won’t bother you again, Baby Cakes.” Ronnie sighed dramatically, gave Danny one last look as if she were eyeing the last brownie before starting a fast. “Have a good life.”
“So,” Danny clapped his hands together once Ronnie had walked away with a big pretense of sighing and sobbing. He didn’t miss the way Wanda stared at his hands. “About that quizzing…”
She shook her head, her gaze snapping to his. “What?”
“You wanted me to quiz you?”
“Oh, yeah.” She handed him her book. “Kiss me. I mean, quiz me. Would you?”
“It would be my pleasure.”
Ronnie felt much better.
So why didn’t she feel better?
A faint pounding took up permanent residence in her temples for the rest of the day as she finished her classes and went back to the libary. She was standing in the middle of the L section when the shivering started.
“You are coming down with something,” Delta said when she found Ronnie coughing in the back room, looking pale and drawn and ready to collapse. “I’ll drive you home.”
“No, I can walk,” she insisted.
Big mistake.
She wasn’t sure how she made it home, except that she had to stop twice because the ground tilted a little too much in certain spots and her vision failed her. She actually thought she saw Elvis on one particular street corner. Or maybe that was Hunk-a-hunk. Make that “Jailhouse Rock.” No, “Heartbreak Hotel”—
Aw, who cares?
She stumbled into her apartment much, much later than usual. The throbbing did a furious Macarena against her temples and she was freezing despite the humid night air.
Val met her at the door. “You’re late—” he started, then his gaze narrowed as he drank in her appearance. Worry lit his eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. I just need to sit down a few minutes.”
Another thorough study and he frowned. “I think you need to lie down.”
“I know what I need.” She collapsed on a nearby chair. “I just need to sit here a few minutes, then I’ll be fine.”
He touched her forehead. “You’re sick.”
“I’m never sick. I don’t have time to be sick. I have to study. I’ve got to read a chapter on tax credits and do our lesson and document today’s experiments.”
“What experiments?”
“Kissing experiments. I kissed four different subjects today.” She blinked furiously against the haze infringing on her vision as she stared at Val. “Would you just stand still?”
“But I’m not moving—”
“Ronnie!” Danny’s voice cut into Val’s response. A loud banging followed. “It’s me. You’ll never believe what just happened!”
Val speared her with a fierce look. “Who did you kiss?”
“Just a minute,” she called out to Danny as she stumbled to the door.
“Who?” Val demanded, dogging her steps.
“It doesn’t matter. I needed some evidence to support the lessons, and the technique worked perfectly, and I found out I wasn’t nearly as affected by last night’s kiss as I thought I was.”
An expression dangerously close to pleasure crossed his handsome face. “You were affected by last night’s kiss?”
“I thought I was, but I blew that theory out of the water, thank God.” The last sentiment earned her a frown before she hauled open the door.
“Who were you talking to?” Danny asked.
She stared at the empty space where Val had been standing. “Um, that was the TV.”
“The TV’s off.”
“Now, but it was on a few seconds ago. So what’s your news?”
“It’s about Wanda.” His words stalled as his gaze swept her from head to toe. “Geez, Ron, you look awful.”
“I feel even worse.” She turned and plopped down on a kitchen chair. “So what’s up?”
“Wanda’s going out with me.”
She grinned. “You really asked her out?”
He nodded. “I don’t know how it happened. One second we were sitting there, and the next, it’s coming out of my mouth. I wasn’t even worried about her reaction, I just stared into her eyes and, bam, out it came.”
“It’s about time.”
He grinned, before the expression faded into worry. “Look, about saying you and I were … you know. I just wanted to make her see me that way.”
“Looks like it worked.” She cleared her scratchy throat, which earned her a worried glance from Danny.
“You really look terrible.”
“De
lta sent me home early.”
“Then I guess you didn’t see this.” He handed her a campus newspaper. “It’s the evening issue.”
She read the headline and her heart stalled.
KISSING BANDIT LOOSE IN DUPRÉ LIBRARY
“Four guys were attacked by this sex-crazed woman earlier today, during your shift. Did you see anything suspicious?”
“Sex-crazed? That’s going overboard a bit, don’t you think?”
“So you did see something?”
“N-no,” she stammered, “I’m just saying these guys probably exaggerated.” Her watery gaze scanned the column. “Listen to this… ‘She wore a raincoat and flashed a complete frontal view before she pressed herself up against me, gyrated to some, silent beat, and kissed me.’ Oh, please.” She slapped the paper closed. “Give me a break.” She didn’t even own a raincoat. “In their dreams.”
“What did you say?”
“I said, um, why didn’t they scream? The library’s full of people. If one of them had screamed, someone would have come to their rescue.”
“They were too stunned, but the campus police are going to beef up security. If there’s some crazed woman sneaking around, they’ll find her.” Danny flopped into a nearby chair and grabbed the remote.
“How comforting.” The pounding in her temples increased and she leaned over to rest her head on her folded arms.
The television clicked on and Jeopardy blared in the background.
Pressing and gyrating. Right. First of all, none of the four had been nearly cute enough to inspire even a teensy bit of pressing, much less any gyrating. What a big load of overblown male bull…
Ronnie didn’t realize she’d dozed off, until she felt strong hands at her neck, soothing, working magic as they rubbed and kneaded her sore muscles. Ah, Val.
Her eyes fluttered open and she half-turned to see Danny behind her. His gaze hooked with hers, intense and hot and deep, deep blue…. Blue? She snapped her eyes shut again. Danny did not have blue eyes, and Ronnie was sick. Feverish.
She relaxed. The hands soothed her aching muscles; she sighed and slipped deeper into a doze. Strong arms scooped her up, carried her to the bed, and tucked her in.
“Sleep well, Rouquin.” The deep voice whispered through her head a second before sweet lips touched hers in a slow, lingering kiss that rocked her senses despite the fever.
Because of it, she reminded herself when her eyes opened and she saw Danny lean away from her and lick his lips.
Panic bolted through her, quickly swamped in a chill that gripped her body and forced her deeper into the covers. The fever, she told herself as she closed her eyes, her mouth still tingling from the kiss. Just the fever.
Chapter Eleven
Ronnie could have sworn it was Danny who tucked her into bed and kissed her goodnight.… Ugh, the kiss. It couldn’t be. Not him. Not again.
It wasn’t, she realized when she opened her eyes some time later and saw Val’s concerned face.
Val.
No Danny. No brain scrambling. Just the imaginings of a wild fever.
Just Val.
He bathed her burning skin with a cool cloth, cradled her head, and urged her to drink. The smelly concoction burned down her throat and exploded a fireball in her stomach. The heat tempered to a pulsing warmth that swept through her body, gripped her nerves, and lulled her back to sleep.
Until she stirred again and he returned to repeat the process.
A dream.
The real thing, she realized when she finally opened her eyes and lifted her throbbing head.
He sat by her bedside, a bowl on the nightstand, a glass of some murky yellow mixture within arm’s reach.
“What time is it?” she croaked.
“Two a.m.”
“Two?” She cast bleary eyes at the clock. She’d fallen asleep around one o’clock. “Geez, I feel like I’ve been sleeping forever—”
“It’s two a.m.—a full twenty-four hours later.”
“What?” She bolted upright and wobbled.
Firm hands urged her back to the pillows. “You’re sick, Veronique. Lie down.”
“But my Friday classes—”
“You’ll make them up.” His fingers played across her cheek, strong yet gentle.
“But my professors. I never miss. They’ll wonder—”
“I left a note on your door for your friend Danny and asked him to notify them of your absence.”
“Danny?” She tried to draw his memory forth, but with Val so close, his warm scent filling her nostrils, his hands stroking down her bare arms, she couldn’t think at all. Danny who?
“In the note, I also instructed him to call the CPA firm and the library. Now rest, chérie. You’re sick.”
“But,” she sputtered. “But I can’t be sick. I never get sick. I mean, I get colds and stuff, but nothing serious.” She wiped at her teary eyes. “Nothing requiring bedrest.”
“Complete bedrest.”
She shook her head frantically. “I haven’t been that sick since I had strep throat my senior year in high school.”
“Then you’ve earned a rest. Now rest.” He pushed her back into the pillows and she let him because her entire body was conspiring against her. Her eyes watered. Her head pounded. Her muscles cried. Her throat burned. Little match for her stubbornness.
She closed her eyes and tried not to panic. Okay, so she’d missed one day—a quiz and three lectures, three hours at the CPA firm and four hours at the library. It wasn’t the end of the world. She could make up the quiz, borrow notes from classmates, double up at the library to compensate for missed wages, and she had sick days at the CPA firm, not that she’d ever used one—
“Drink,” he said a moment before the glass touched her lips.
“Ugh,” she sputtered as the sharp scent hit her. “It smells like burnt lemons.”
“Don’t smell it. Drink it.”
She held her nose and swallowed several mouthfuls. “It tastes like burnt lemons,” she said between choked coughs. “What was that?”
“Something I mixed up. Guaranteed to cure what ails you.”
A grin tugged at her lips despite her aching head. “Some nineteenth-century remedy from your past life?”
“Actually, it’s a twentieth-century liquid cold formula from your present life. I found the packet in the back of your medicine cabinet.” He sniffed and wrinkled his nose. “The remedies my grand-mère used to mix up smelled and tasted much better than this. Grand-mère Odile had a whiskey tonic that could cure a sore throat and put hair on your chest all in one sip.”
“Just what I need—hair on my chest.” She took another drink of the nasty cold remedy. “Your grandmother’s name is Odile?”
“Was,” he corrected, putting the glass aside. “She passed away when I was nineteen. She always wore yellow. A yellow dress, a yellow shawl, yellow daisies in her gray hair during the springtime. She came to look after me and my sisters when our parents died in a carriage accident. I was fourteen then.”
“I’m sorry, Val.”
He shrugged, the frown dissolving into a soft smile. “It was a long time ago, and I still had my grandmother and my sisters.” He winked. “I grew up surrounded by the most beautiful women in Heaven’s Gate.”
“How many sisters do you have—I mean, did you have?”
“I was the only boy out of six.”
“And probably spoiled rotten. It’s no wonder with all that feminine influence that you grew up so in tune with the female psyche.” She settled back against the pillows and closed her burning eyes. “After five girls, I bet your father was happy when you came along.”
“Papa loved all his children equally, but he was pleased to see the name continue.” A wistfulness filled his voice. “A foolish dream.” His expression closed and he held the glass to her lips again. “You’d better drink some more.”
The sour mixture tasted better the second time around, undoubtedly because the first few sips had
permanently damaged her tastebuds. The throbbing in her head eased and she leaned back into the pillows. Ah, that felt better. “So what are—were—your sisters’ names?” She had to stop thinking present tense. Val was the past. A ghost.
But talking to him, feeling him so close, he seemed so much more.
The fever, she told herself. Just the fever making her think crazy thoughts, like how nice it was just to sit and talk to someone without worrying about school or work or planning the next minute of her life.
“Margaret, Elizabeth, Mary, Rebecca, and Nicole. Nicole was the youngest, two years my senior. I was the thorn in her side.” A soft smile played at his lips. “She was always mad at me. Because I’d slipped Willie into her lemonade, or under her bed, or next to her dinner plate. She hated Willie.”
“Willie?”
“My pet frog.”
She grinned. “You must have loved her an awful lot.”
“Worship would be more appropriate, but I don’t know that she ever realized it. I should have told her. I should have told them all. But, alas, one minute I was giving them hell, and the next they were off and married, having babies, and I was alone and in charge of the estate.”
“I’m sure they knew, Val. You were their baby brother, and every girl knows that when a boy picks on you, he likes you. It’s a fact of nature.”
“I still should have told them I loved them.” A strange glimmer lit his eyes and something shifted inside her.
She knew the look so well. She’d worn it many times over the past eight years since she’d been on her own.
Longing.
Loneliness.
Regret.
Her gaze locked with his and an invisible connection flowed between them, an understanding. Val knew firsthand what it was like to be on his own. Alone. A century and a half without friends or family. Thinking about the past, wondering how things could have been different.
Her thoughts shifted to her father, to their bitter parting.
“You look sad.” His attention riveted on her face. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” She blinked back the sudden moisture in her eyes. “That stuff is making my eyes water.”
“My senses are a hundred times more heightened than yours, and my eyes are not watering.” He trailed a fingertip along her cheek and she closed her eyes, suddenly overwhelmed at the tenderness of it all. His gentle ministrations, his worried expression, the sincerity in his voice …
In the Midnight Hour Page 15