“I’ll have to move her to San Francisco.” Cat said, thinking aloud, trying to figure things out because Gran wouldn’t be able to live with her there, either. She lived in a third floor walk-up herself. Maybe she could find a short-term studio apartment lease. Or an assisted living place or—
“Why?” Yiannis’s question broke into her darting thoughts.
“Because she can’t climb stairs! Weren’t you listening?”
Yiannis swung Harry up onto his shoulders and gave her a long-suffering look. “I was listening, but I didn’t hear him say anything about her having to move to San Francisco. There are street level accommodations on the island.”
“They’ll cost a mint.” Balboa was a tourist destination. A summer holiday mecca of note.
“She’s already paying rent,” Yiannis said mildly.
“Exactly. Stupidest thing she ever did, selling her house.” Cat glared at him, even though logically it wasn’t his fault.
“Relax,” Yiannis said easily, which infuriated her. Then he nettled her further by taking her elbow and steering her out of the little room and past the receptionist toward the corridor. He smiled at the receptionist as they passed.
Cat sputtered. “Easy for you to say. She’s not your problem.” They were in the corridor now and she stopped and pulled her arm away.
“She’s not a problem at all. She can stay with me.”
Cat stared. “What?”
He shrugged. “I have two steps up to the door. She can do those or I can make a ramp. And I have a spare bedroom—” the recollection of which seemed to provoke a sudden grimace “—and she’s welcome to it.” His grimace faded at those words.
“She won’t—” Cat began, then stopped. She had been going to say that Gran would never go along with the notion, but a moment’s reflection told her that her grandmother was more likely to agree to staying with Yiannis than moving to San Francisco.
“She will,” Yiannis said confidently, “as long as you don’t throw a fit.”
“Me?” Cat bristled. “Why would I throw a fit?”
His brows lifted. His eyes challenged her. “Couldn’t say.” His tone was mild. “But in case you were considering it, have second thoughts.”
Cat gave him a level stare which he met with an equally steady one of his own. She was the one who looked away first. “We’ll see,” she muttered. “There are, as you say, options.”
“Yes, but Maggie will be upset if it’s up in the air.”
Annoyed, Cat knew he was right. But she didn’t have to like it. “We aren’t saying anything for the moment,” she told him firmly. “When she’s awake and aware and we know what she’s up against, there will be time enough to make a decision then.”
“If you say so.”
“I say so.” Cat was firm. “And why did you let the doctor think you were my husband?”
He shrugged. “What difference does it make? He didn’t care. Unless maybe you were angling for a date with him?” He cocked his head and gave her a speculative look.
“I was not angling for a date! I’m engaged!”
“So I heard. When’s he coming down?”
As if it were a requirement of her fiancé to be here. “He’s very busy.”
The look Yiannis gave her said he didn’t think Adam ought to be too busy to come. Fortunately he didn’t give voice to the thought. He only said, “That’s what Maggie says.”
So Gran had told him about Adam. “What else did she say?”
“Not a lot.” He winced when Harry grabbed handfuls of his hair and bounced on his shoulders. Then he glanced at his watch. “You don’t need me to stay until the receptionist calls you?”
“Of course not.”
The mouth twisted again. “Didn’t think so. Okay. Harry and I’ll head home. Tell Maggie I came by, and that I’ll be by sometime tomorrow. Give me a call when you’re leaving this afternoon. I’ll get dinner ready.”
“Dinner?” she echoed doubtfully. “You don’t have to—”
“I know I don’t. But I want some time to work this evening. So after you see Maggie come back and take care of Harry. I’ll have dinner ready.”
He wasn’t offering. He was commanding. And the point of the exercise was to be sure she was there to take care of Harry. She nodded. “Fine. Thank you,” she said stiffly. “I appreciate it.”
He nodded, satisfied. Then he slid Harry off his shoulders. “Give your aunt Cat a kiss good-bye.”
Cat’s eyes widened in surprise. But Harry apparently understood more than she had given him credit for. He held out his arms to her and pursed his lips. And as amazed as she was, Cat felt something tender and maternal squeeze in the vicinity of her heart.
Smiling, she leaned in and touched her lips to Harry’s. Then she kissed his cheek and the tip of his nose for good measure before stepping back again—only to be shocked as she found herself kissed again.
By Yiannis.
Not a swept-off-your-feet kiss. Not a passionate exploration of mutual attraction. Not a long kiss at all.
But stunning in its unexpectedness—and in her gut reaction. If Harry’s pursed lips brought sensation to the general region of her heart, Yiannis’s arrowed straight home. Their touch brought with it such myriad sensations and emotions that she backed up a step to stand against the wall, her fingers curling into fists and pressing against it so she wouldn’t reach up and loop her arms around his neck and make it longer, harder, deeper.
And then, in a moment—barely more—he’d stepped away again, smiling. Something unreadable flashed in his gaze. Cat felt her lips tingle and her face flame.
“What was that for?” she demanded indignantly.
Yiannis nodded past her toward the waiting room from which they’d come. “She looked like she was expecting it.”
“What? Who?” Cat’s head whipped around and she saw the receptionist suddenly busy herself with paperwork on her desk. “You kissed me because a receptionist expected it?”
Yiannis shook his head, still smiling. “Nope. I kissed you because I wanted to.” And he ducked in and gave her another for good measure, then slung Harry up on his shoulders again. “See you at dinner.”
CHAPTER FOUR
HE WAS out of his mind.
Kissing Cat MacLean? Twice?
Yiannis’s fingers tightened on the steering wheel and he shook his head at his own stupidity. What the hell had he been thinking?
Well, he hadn’t been. Or not with his brain, anyway. Other parts of his anatomy had always spoken a lot louder whenever he was around Cat. From the minute he’d seen her in front of her grandmother’s house with her arms full of grocery bags, he’d wanted her. And as he got to know her, the more time he’d spent with her—in bed and out—nothing had changed.
Only Cat had changed things when after the best three months of his life, she’d demanded to know where she stood.
He hadn’t seen what was wrong with the status quo. They had great conversation, energetic arguments, lots of fun and the best sex he could ever remember.
Why wasn’t that enough?
She hadn’t given him a satisfactory answer. She’d only made it clear that she wanted more—marriage, kids, picket fences.
Encumbrances. Duties. Responsibilities. Yiannis knew the drill.
But Cat hadn’t seen it that way—and obviously still didn’t if that honking great engagement ring on her finger was anything to go by.
Still, where was Mr Fiancé now when she needed him?
Busy, to hear Cat tell it.
Didn’t make sense to Yiannis. How could he be too busy to show up and hold her hand through Maggie’s surgery? Didn’t he know how much Cat’s grandmother meant to her?
Yiannis damned well knew.
And when she didn’t call and didn’t call and didn’t call, he did his own share of pacing. And as soon as Harry was up from his nap, he’d bundled the little boy into his car seat and headed for the hospital.
Good thing he had. One look at Cat’s tense sho
ulders as she’d stared out the window and he knew she was shouldering far too much alone. She needed someone with her. Then she’d needed someone to ask questions when the doctor finally showed up. And after he’d left, she’d needed someone to assure her she wasn’t going to have to take Maggie off to San Francisco which, if she’d been thinking straight, Cat would know Maggie would hate.
And then she’d needed someone to kiss her.
And he was there, wasn’t he? The useless fiancé could have done it if he’d been here. But he wasn’t. So Yiannis had done it for him.
But mostly he’d done it because, like he’d told her, he’d wanted to.
He supposed he ought to resist. He didn’t ordinarily hit on engaged women. But this was different. This was Cat.
When had he ever resisted Cat?
Well, he hadn’t. It was marriage he’d resisted, not her.
Where Cat was concerned, the same attraction was still there. He felt the same quickening of his pulse, the same tightening of his body. And he could still taste her now if he ran his tongue over his lips.
He reconsidered those kisses. He should have taken his time.
Cat refused to think about Yiannis kissing her.
She’d scrubbed them away with the back of her hand the minute he left the room. She didn’t know what he thought he was doing. But his kisses were pointless. Meaningless. Annoying. Irritating. Vexing.
And the effect they had on her rocked her to her toes.
They would have rattled her peace of mind all by themselves if the sight of Gran hadn’t done it immediately thereafter.
If Gran had looked frail yesterday, it was nothing to the woman Cat beheld when she walked into her grandmother’s hospital room after the surgery. Granted, Gran was not a big woman, but she looked positively tiny engulfed in the big white bed. Her eyes were closed, her lips pale, and her cheeks almost the same color as the sheet that covered her.
Cat halted abruptly just inside the door, her fingers knotting together as she took a deep breath and tried to get her bearings. She had to reassure herself so she could do the same for her grandmother when she woke. But the only thing that gave her any hope right now was the green line that jumped across the black screen, proving that her grandmother still had a heart beat.
“She’s doing very well.” The nurse swooped past her to come into the room, making notes on what she read on the machines.
“Who’s doing well?” A faint raspy voice disputed from the bed.
“Gran!” Cat flew across the room to see her grandmother’s eyes flutter open and a slight smile touch her lips.
“I’m still here,” Gran said, sounding grumpy.
“Of course you are,” Cat said fervently as she took Gran’s hand and pressed it to her lips. It was cool, but Gran’s fingers wrapped hers and gave a reassuring squeeze. “And thank God for that.”
“You may not be by the time I get home,” Gran said. Her voice was more gravelly than usual.
“Oh, yes I will,” Cat vowed. She bent and kissed Gran’s cheek, too, glad to discover it felt a bit warmer even as her grandmother’s eyes fluttered shut.
The nurse took Gran’s vitals, then turned to Cat. “You can stay if you want but she’ll mostly sleep.”
Gran’s eyes opened. “No, she can’t stay. She needs to go home. You need to help Yiannis with Harry.”
“Yiannis is doing quite well without me,” Cat admitted. “He and Harry came by while you were in surgery.”
Gran smiled sleepily. “He’s a good boy.”
He? Harry? Or Yiannis?
Unsure, Cat didn’t respond.
“Go home,” Gran urged.
Cat shook her head. “Not yet.”
“Are you worrying about me?” Gran’s eyes were accusing.
“I—a little,” Cat admitted because there had never been any future in lying to her grandmother. “But I’m whistling a happy tune,” she added with a bright smile.
Gran gave a small chuckle. “I should think you’d be wishing me over the rainbow.”
“Never!”
Gran’s fingers plucked at the sheet. “There will come a time.”
“No.”
“I’m complicating your life.”
“You’re part of my life,” Cat said firmly. “One of the very best parts.”
“I’m glad you think so,” Gran said simply, then shook her head. “You’ll probably change your mind when I get out of here. When do I get out of here?”
“I don’t know yet,” Cat said honestly. “You have a couple more days in the hospital. Then you’ll do in-patient rehab. Dr Singh said he’d come talk to you tomorrow morning.”
She didn’t mention Yiannis’s offer. Not now. Not yet. Hopefully not ever. Maybe Gran would realize it was a bad idea to try to ever move back into the apartment over the garage and would suggest that she come to San Francisco to be near Cat.
As if her thoughts had prompted it, her mobile phone rang.
“It’s Adam,” Cat told Gran and then said into the phone, “Hi. Perfect timing. Gran’s out of surgery. Doing well.”
“Great. And I solved your dress problem.”
“You—What?”
“I had lunch today with Margarita at Lolo’s,” he reported. “You remember her.”
Cat did. Margarita was a young woman on the fast track that he worked with. Margarita was svelte, sophisticated and smart. Whenever she was around Margarita, songs about not measuring up played in Cat’s head.
“I told her you needed a dress for the ball,” Adam went on. “And she said she knew the perfect place to look. Trendy, sophisticated. Elegant.”
There was that word again. “I can get my own dress, Adam. There are plenty of places down here to look.”
“Sure. But I thought you’d be spending all your time at the hospital. I didn’t want you to feel pressured. Margarita said she’d be happy to pick one for you.”
Cat knew he was only trying to be helpful. She took a careful breath, aware that even though Gran’s eyes were closed, her ears were not. She would be hearing one side of the conversation—and coming to conclusions.
“I’m sure I can manage,” Cat said evenly and with all the equanimity she could muster. “But please thank Margarita for me.”
“If you’re sure,” Adam began reluctantly.
“If I run into problems, I’ll let you know.”
“Please do,” Adam said. “If you haven’t found it by the weekend, and you still can’t come home, I’ll come down and help you.”
“Would you?” Suddenly having him here seemed like a very good idea. There would be no time to think about annoying meaningless kisses from Yiannis if Adam was here.
“I’ll see what I can do. I’ll give you a call tomorrow. Give your grandmother my best. Love you.”
“Love you, too,” Cat said. She closed her phone slowly, trying to hang onto the satisfactory bits of the conversation, trying to muster a vision of Adam’s blond good looks and smooth handsome face.
Adam Collier was a stunningly good looking man, his features far more conventionally handsome than Yiannis’s. But once she made the mental comparison, it was Yiannis’s face who kept intruding in her thoughts. Maybe because Gran was talking about Yiannis again.
“It’s lovely of him to take care of Harry.”
“Yes.”
“He’s been such a help since he moved in. Selling the house to him was the best thing I’ve done in years.”
Maybe not, Cat wanted to say. Not now you can’t climb stairs. But saying that would open a can of worms she didn’t want to deal with tonight.
Gran shut her eyes and sighed, then opened them again just slightly. “I had hoped you and Yiannis might … get together?” It was the first time she’d ever said that. Perhaps not the first time she’d thought it, but she’d never given voice to the hope before.
“No,” Cat said firmly.
Gran sighed. She shook her head wearily. “Well, of course, I was only hoping. Don’t
you like him?”
Cat smiled politely. “He’s been very good to you.”
“Yes, but I meant you—”
“Yiannis doesn’t do the long haul.”
“Maybe he just needs a reason,” Gran suggested, a smile flickering on her lips.
Cat didn’t respond. “Life is not a fairy tale,” she said at last. “Or a Broadway musical.”
Gran reached out and took her hand, chafing it lightly between her own. “Sadly, you’re right. But you must admit, those songs do have their uses.”
“They do.”
But there were limits. She stood up and bent to give her grandmother a kiss. “I’ve got to go. Yiannis has had Harry all day. It’s time I took over.”
Gran smiled. “You’re a dear girl.”
“Of course I am.” Cat smiled.
“Yiannis should see that.”
“Adam sees it,” Cat said firmly.
Gran raised her brows. “I sincerely hope so.”
She should have said no to dinner.
Even if she made sure that Yiannis didn’t know he could still affect her, dinner with him, even chaperoned by a bouncing baby, was exactly what she did not need.
It was like dancing with the devil. Far too appealing, much too tempting. And even being engaged to Adam sadly didn’t seem to make her impervious to Yiannis’s charms.
And the truly dismaying thing was that he wasn’t even trying. He was just being himself—the man she’d fallen in love with three years ago.
Why couldn’t he be rude or dismissive or obnoxious? It would be so much easier to ignore him. It was mortifying to find herself still so aware of him.
And she didn’t need more mortification where Yiannis was concerned.
Maybe she could plead a headache, just pick up Harry and run—well, walk, really—to Gran’s and eat whatever Gran had in her refrigerator.
Yes, that would work. There was no sense subjecting herself to a one-on-one with a man who undermined her best resolutions to mentally put him in a no-look, no-touch, no-fanciful dreams box and shut the door.
One more deep breath to fortify herself and she got out of the car, marched through the gate and went round to the back door where she knocked briskly, then tried to look as if she really did have a headache when Yiannis opened it.
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