Rafael's One Night Bombshell

by Tina Beckett

  “If it was deemed necessary for public safety then, yes, they would have. I’ve seen it happen.”

  “I guess it’s a good thing I didn’t say no, then.” She was a little irritated that Rafe hadn’t told her straight out that it was more a command performance than a simple request.

  “Hey.” He stopped her, touching her with a finger beneath her chin, tilting her head until her eyes met his. “We’re not enemies, Cass. We’re on the same team. I promise.”

  Were they? Didn’t teammates know a little about each other? She and Rafe might not be enemies but they were still basically strangers. Just like the foster homes she’d gone through. She’d barely scratched the surface in getting to know one set of parents before another set had taken over.

  Even Cassie could see the similarities between those temporary relationships and this one. Rafe was just one more person in a long line of acquaintances—people who came into her life for a season and then walked right back out of it.

  She sighed. “I know. It’s just been a trying few weeks. Your friends can be pretty intense.”

  “Yes, they can. And you did a great job handling it...and them. They were impressed by you.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “I could tell by the way they were taking notes.” He started walking again.

  “And yet you didn’t write down a single word.”

  “I didn’t need to.”

  “Really? Why not?”

  “They were the same questions I asked you a few days ago. I have my notes from back then. It was one of the reasons they wanted to speak to you. You were quicker about suspecting Zika than some of the other medical personnel in the area.”

  “Renato’s neurologist thought the same thing I did.”

  “Yes. And he told us that you were the one that brought the possibility to his attention.”

  Dr. Blackman had said that? Her face heated. She’d just done what anyone would have under the circumstances. Renato’s mom had practically shouted the word Zika when Cassie had said the baby’s head was a little smaller than it should be.

  It didn’t really matter who had done what, as long as someone figured out a cure, or at least a way to prevent this from happening to other babies...to other mothers.

  “As long as it helps create awareness, that’s all that counts.”

  “I agree.” He glanced at her with a frown. “I’m sorry it took so long. Have you eaten dinner yet? You look exhausted.”

  Maybe because she was. It had been a long day. “No, I came straight from the hospital.” She glanced at her watch, surprised to find it was almost nine at night and her last meal had been at...

  She’d had some yogurt for breakfast, but nothing since then. Great. Her cupboard was pretty much bare too, and the thought of having to stop to grab something on her way home wasn’t appealing at all.

  “I have some leftover Chinese food in my fridge. We can heat it up, if you don’t mind me firing up my computer to transcribe some of my notes.”

  “I thought you didn’t take any notes.”

  “I took plenty. Just not during your time with the panel.”

  Okay, so Chinese sounded really wonderful, and it meant her fried brain didn’t have to make any decisions about food. Her stomach gave a convincing twinge, reminding her that she had to eat to live.

  “Food—any kind of food—sounds wonderful, but it’s really late. Are you sure you want company?” If he thought she was exhausted, then he must be equally so, if he’d put in as many hours today as she suspected he had.

  “It’ll keep me from falling face-first onto my computer keyboard.”

  Cassie grinned. “No one has ever invited me to dinner for that reason. Should I be flattered or insulted?”

  “Definitely flattered.”

  Her insides warmed as she followed him out the front door, his murmured goodbyes to the people manning the front desk rumbling across her skin. He seemed like a hard ass in some ways, and yet he was courteous enough to acknowledge other people. He could have just strode out the door without a backward glance. Even at Seaside, she’d seen some of her colleagues walk past the nurses’ stations without a word of greeting. She knew doctors were busy, but so was everyone at the hospital. It still irritated her from time to time.

  As she settled into the leather seat of his car, and he adjusted the radio to play some soft jazz, her body relaxed for the first time in several hours. Leaning her head against the seat, she let the music wash over her, the saxophone soothing her jangled nerves. “I like your choice in music.”

  “I’m glad. We have about a fifteen-minute drive to my condo, if you want to close your eyes.”

  “I’m fine.” Even as she said it, she knew that wasn’t exactly true. It had been a crazy hectic day. One that wasn’t done yet. No matter how hard she fought it, her lids began to creep downward. Soon she was cocooned in darkness. As the mournful strains of the next song came through the speakers, they coaxed her further and further down a well-traveled road. A drowsy, comforting road that welcomed her home.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  WHY HAD HE brought Cassie here?

  Because she’d helped by coming to his office today and answering the panel’s questions? So had a lot of other doctors and he’d invited none of them home.

  But Cassie had looked so tired, and she obviously hadn’t eaten anything all day.

  That should have been his cue to take her to her own house, not bring her to his.

  She’d made it pretty plain, though, that she had no interest in relationships, so they were on the same page. Maybe that’s why he’d felt safe about it.

  Parked in the reserved spot at his condo in Coral Gables, he sat there for a moment or two and watched her sleep. With her head tipped toward him, lips barely parted, and dark lashes casting shadows on her cheeks, he suddenly realized that there was nothing safe about being here with her.

  He’d gotten the same gut-kicking sensation the morning after they’d made love, when he’d woken up and realized he’d spent the entire night with her. And then, instead of hauling his butt out of the place, he’d stood over her for what had seemed like hours.

  And now she was here. At his home.

  Not smart, Rafe. Except his condo was fairly close to his office building, at least by Miami standards. Located five miles off the Dolphin Expressway, the complex lay halfway between his parents’ bodega in Little Heliconia and the Miami branch of the Florida Health Department. He was the CDC’s liaison there, since they didn’t have an actual branch in Miami. It was easier to pay Rafe a consulting fee than to fly someone down to Dade County every time someone called in with a problem.

  Except Zika had brought the actual bigwigs zipping their way.

  Taking a deep breath, he clicked open his car-door locks, trying to decide whether to carry Cassie up to his unit and let her nap on his couch or to wake her up.

  Safer to wake her up. Carrying an unconscious woman up the stairs might get him a second look, even though he’d lived in the building for a few years. His government job didn’t pay a whole lot, but with the bodega and his freelance work it allowed him to live in a nice area of the city.

  He touched her cheek. Silky smooth, the contact sent a shard of some shadowy emotion spearing through him. “Cass? We’re here.”

  Sleepy eyes fluttered open, the blue irises dark and slumberous.

  This is what she would have looked like if he’d woken her up that morning in the hotel.

  He was glad he was getting to see it. He’d imagined it in his head over and over. But the reality was far beyond anything his mind could have dreamed up.

  “Hey, sleepyhead. Do you think you can make it up the stairs?” His building was right in front of them. A few blocks over from what was fondly known among the locals as M
iracle Mile, Rafe found he could walk to get whatever he needed. His second-floor condo unit boasted a nice view of the pool and manicured grounds. It was all he could have asked for, and more.

  She sat up with a suddenness that dislodged his fingers from her skin, blinking a few times. “I am so sorry. I don’t know why I did that.”

  “It’s been a stressful few days.” At least it had been for him. He’d had meetings and conference calls ever since Cassie had called the office a week ago. And he didn’t expect things to let up anytime soon. Zika was the last thing anyone wanted to see get a foothold in Miami. And although a quicker test for the disease was just becoming available, that would do little to stop a mass panic, if many more cases came to light.

  “I guess so.” She shook her head as if trying to rid it of any cobwebs. “I think the more likely answer is that I didn’t meet my caffeine quota for the day.”

  He smiled. “That’s one thing I can help with. Have you ever had a Heliconian espresso?”

  “No.”

  “Well, get ready, then. You’re in for a treat.”

  Fifteen minutes later, Rafe balanced two demitasse cups and the silver pourer containing the coffee on a tray and carried them into the living room, where Cassie waited. Fido—his traitorous cat—lay curled on her lap looking more than pleased with himself.

  I bet you are, buddy. Don’t get used to it. She’s not staying.

  He’d never had a woman up to his place. And now he knew why. It was far easier to invite someone in than to escort them back out. Even harder was saying a permanent goodbye to someone who was lodged in your heart.

  The muscles in his jaw tightened. He was thinking about his father. Not Cassie.

  “I can’t believe you named your cat Fido.” The tips of her fingers tickled over the Maine Coon’s long gray fur.

  Yep, definitely a traitor.

  “I can’t believe you called yourself Bonnie.”

  Her lips gave a wry twist. “Okay, I guess I deserved that. I had no idea who you were. You could have been crazy.”

  Any laughter disappeared. “And you thought a simple name change would protect you?”

  “Not crazy like in a slasher movie. I just didn’t want things to...” She shrugged. “I had just gotten out of a difficult situation. One I wasn’t looking to repeat.”

  “You thought I might blow up your cell phone asking for a second date?”

  Her face turned pink. “Something like that. I needn’t have worried, since you were gone when I woke up.”

  That was more about self-preservation than anything. But he wasn’t going to tell her that.

  He poured coffee into one of the small white cups and handed it to her.

  She accepted the espresso, glancing at the tray and then at him. “No sugar bowl?”

  “No need. Sugar is part of the brewing process. At least in Heliconian coffee. It’s similar to making Cuban coffee.”

  She waited until he came and sat beside her before lifting the hot beverage to her lips.

  Dark and sweet, with a thin layer of foam on top, he loved his homeland’s java. He could barely drink what he thought of as agua sucia—that light-colored concoction most Americans seemed to favor.

  Her brows went up, and she took another sip. “It’s delicious. Did you use an espresso maker?”

  “No. Most people in my homeland couldn’t afford something so elaborate. We make it on the stovetop, and then whip a small amount of the brewed coffee with sugar until it’s thick. You probably won’t want to drink several in a row.” He smiled. “You did say you wanted caffeine, didn’t you? Well this has it in droves.”

  “I’ll remember to go easy.”

  Like she had on the whiskey at the bar? The face she’d made as that first swallow had gone down had been something to see. She’d changed her mind about having another. Not so with his coffee. She seemed to be savoring it, her eyes half closing as she swallowed, tongue darting out to catch the taste of it on her lips. A rush of warmth spurted through his gut that had nothing to do with the scalding beverage and everything to do with the woman herself.

  Time to get up.

  He slugged down the rest of his drink. “I’ll just go and get the leftovers heated.”

  “I can help.” She glanced down. “If you’ll tell me how to remove Fido without hurting his feelings.”

  He wasn’t sure he wanted her following him into the kitchen. Not with the way his thoughts were beginning to stray from food to other things. But unless he wanted to explain why, he didn’t have much of a choice.

  “He’s a pretty easygoing fellow.” He set his cup back on the tray and reached for his cat, unable to stop a smile as the animal flopped onto his back on Cassie’s lap. “I think he likes you.”

  Who could blame him? Rafe was beginning to like her too. Maybe a little bit too much.

  “He’s cute. You don’t seem like a cat kind of guy, though.”

  “Really?” He finally succeeded in lifting a very limp Fido and setting him on the couch beside Cassie’s hip, her light scent drifting his way as he did. He had to admit, he was in no hurry to move away. “And what kind of guy do I seem like?”

  “I don’t know.” She studied him for a few seconds. “I see you more with some kind of muscular dog. Maybe one of those illegal breeds.”

  “Illegal? Like pit bulls?” The breed had been shunned in Dade County for years because of the proliferation of dog-fighting rings. “I don’t know whether to be flattered or insulted. I would never be involved in dog fighting. Or harming any animal. I actually disagree with the ban.”

  She looked surprised. “I know you wouldn’t. I’m sure you’d give any pet a great home, judging from Fido here.”

  “He knows he has it made.” He leaned down to give the cat a scratch behind his ear. “I’m on the go a lot, so it didn’t feel right having a dog. Fido is pretty self-sufficient and I can always ask one of my brothers to come over and feed him, when I can’t be here.”

  “That makes sense.”

  Fido didn’t need to be walked daily, and shutting a dog up in the condo while he worked long hours, even in a unit as large as his, didn’t seem fair. His cat, on the other hand, had made the perfect companion ever since he’d brought him home from the animal shelter three years ago.

  “Well, he’s a very lucky cat.” Cassie stood, picking up the tray and waiting for him to lead the way into the kitchen.

  Halfway there, she paused. “What’s that?”

  “Hmm?” He glanced at her to see her attention focused on the silver stuff sack that contained his flying gear. He’d left it propped against the wall after a flight he’d taken yesterday afternoon. “It’s my paraglider.”

  Her eyes widened. “You actually do that?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “Well, because it involves being in the air.”

  He smiled. “That’s the idea.” There was more than one way to escape the past. Paragliding just happened to be the method he’d chosen. “You don’t like heights?”

  “No. Nothing higher than standing on a counter to reach into a cabinet, actually.”

  He wouldn’t have guessed that of her. “Remind me not to invite you to go with me, then.”

  And why in the world had he even said that? Paragliding was the last thing he wanted to do with her. He moved into the kitchen to shut down that line of thought.

  “Just set the tray on the counter, if you don’t mind.”

  She did as he asked, walking around the kitchen, still exploring, her fingers sliding across various surfaces. He tried not to remember about how luscious those hands had felt as they’d trailed across his skin. He failed miserably.

  This was exactly the reason he liked paragliding.

  Turning away, he yanked open the door of the refrigera
tor, searching for the take-out boxes, when her voice came from behind him. “I was wondering what happened to that.”

  “What happened to what?” He leaned back to see what she was talking about and froze.

  Dangling from her fingers was the black elastic circle Cassie had worn in her hair a little over a month ago. He’d set it in an empty fruit bowl in his kitchen and had meant to throw it away. Instead, he found himself toying with it whenever he was in here.

  Forcing himself to continue retrieving the food containers, he said, “It ended up mixed with my stuff when I left the hotel.” It wasn’t quite a lie. The hair tie had gotten mixed with his things, but only because he had been the one to drop it into his pocket. He still didn’t understand exactly why he’d done it.

  He closed the refrigerator door with his hip and set everything down, only then realizing she was still staring at the tie, her face tense. “Cass?”

  She looked like she was battling with something she wanted to tell him. Finally, she forced the words out. “My fiancé cheated on me the night I went to the bar. Or at least that was the night I actually caught him. I had suspected for a while, but he denied it, so I thought...” Her eyes came up. “He had me believing I was being paranoid. Or crazy. But I wasn’t. God... I wasn’t at all. How could he do something like that?”

  A tight ache settled in Rafe’s chest. Going over to her, he took the tie from her fingers and set it back on the counter. Then he wrapped his arms around her. “I don’t know. But from the sound of it, you’re better off without him.”

  “I know, but it doesn’t make it any easier.”

  He cupped her face in his hands, thumbs sweeping over the delicate bones of her cheeks. He repeated the words, emphasizing them. “You’re better off without him. Say it.”

  “It’s hard to—”

  “I want you to repeat after me.” He gazed down at her, the tightness in his chest morphing into something softer. “I, Cassandra Larrobee, deserve better than to be with a man who makes me feel anything less than amazing.”