by Tina Beckett
“How so?” He hadn’t seen anything unusual.
“The last few days I’ve been dropping things more than usual. Paperwork mostly, but I dropped the vial in my lap three times when I was preparing it for Rafael.”
“Have you checked your blood sugar? Simple things like dehydration and moving to a higher elevation can make you behave in ways your body isn’t accustomed to.” The panic in him started to settle down. “You haven’t been here long enough to have acclimated. I’m sure it’s something like that.”
“It’s not. It’s can’t be just that. I’m accustomed to traveling.” She picked up her mug again and avoided his gaze. “I appreciate you trying to help, but—”
“But nothing, Rebel!” Anger snapped inside him, and he had to rein it in. He normally didn’t have much of a temper, but when injustice occurred in front of him, his temper roared. “You can’t just sit here and say you’re giving up. Unless you’ve been tested, you can’t know you’re going to develop the full-blown illness.”
“Haven’t you ever just known something in your life? I mean, just known it down in your gut without anyone ever having to tell you?” She looked into her mug as if she were going back into her memories, seeing them now as if they were a movie in front of her eyes.
“Of course, everyone has. But I’ve also been wrong about some of those things too. That’s a sign you’re thinking with your emotions and not logic.” He’d been there and done that, in spades.
“Logic? Research shows a full fifty percent of people develop the disease. The pattern in my family is well over the fifty percent mark. So far, seventy-five percent. There were four children and three have died of it.”
“Rebel, you’re not interpreting the research properly. A full fifty percent of people then don’t develop any symptoms and go on to live beautiful lives.” He raked a hand through his hair, frustrated at her thinking process and her unfounded belief. “Have you thought that you’ve got those sort of statistics on your side? Those are quite positive in my book.”
“No.” She sighed and clutched her hands in her lap. “It’s just always easier to believe the bad stuff, you know? How can I even consider thinking I might not have it when the proof is in my symptoms?”
“You are a stubborn one, aren’t you?” He sighed, not wanting to run over her beliefs, but he wouldn’t be satisfied until she obtained the proper testing. Her symptoms could be anything from simple fatigue to stress from work.
“Why haven’t you gotten the testing done to know for sure?” That’s what he would have done, immediately.
“I’m…” Her breathing came in short huffs and tears sprang forth in earnest. Duncan patted her shoulder but remained silent. “I’m afraid! God, I’m so afraid to have what I know confirmed.” She covered her face with her hands. “I can’t take knowing that every tick of the clock is leading me closer to my death.”
Duncan pulled her against his side, offering her some comfort as the fire in the kiva fireplace snapped and crackled, offering its warmth to her as well. He pressed a kiss to her temple.
“Science may equally disprove what you think you know, too.”
“I don’t know if I want to know. It’s like I can feel it coming on, what more proof do I need?”
“What you may be feeling is the stress of unrelenting anxiety from years of worry.” Squeezing her shoulder, he leaned back into the settee, pulled her closer, tucked her head beneath his chin. “Tell me about it. Tell me the story that’s locking you up inside.”
A few minutes passed before she took a deep breath. “My dad died when I was eleven, and he was forty-five. We had no idea what had happened to him, but a few years later when my oldest brother got sick and showed the same symptoms we had a clue it was the same thing.” She cuddled against him and allowed her body to relax. One hand drifted over his abdomen, almost shyly, as if she hesitated to hold on to him. He placed his hand over hers and held it against him.
“Then what happened?”
“My grandparents finally told us that dad was adopted and they had no idea what his family history was. But when Ben became symptomatic, we started digging. Mom got all of the boys tested as they were the ones showing symptoms. I didn’t have any symptoms yet, so she decided to wait for me.” She paused as a tear ran down her cheek. Duncan caught it with the back of his fingers and wiped it away. “Seemed like every couple of years all we did was plan funerals. All of them were dead by the time they were twenty-five.” She huffed out an irritated breath. “I have three nephews and so far they are doing okay.” She took a deep breath and looked up at him. “They might be okay, then, right?”
“I’m so very sorry, Rebel. That’s a lot of pain to go through.” He could only give the odds science had already established. The guilt she felt for surviving such tragedy now explained everything. Why she ran from one assignment to the next and why she was so reluctant to make friends.
“I know.” She nodded. “It’s awful. But it was part of the reason I became a nurse. I couldn’t help my family, but I wanted to do something to help someone else’s.”
“No matter the reason you entered healthcare, you’re an excellent nurse.” He paused for a second. “But you are entitled to have a life of your own, no matter what your family history is.”
“How can I even think of having a relationship or a family with such history?” Anger blazed in her eyes at the suggestion, but it was part of the process of letting go.
“By living your life you honor your family, and you don’t let a disease, something you have no control over, live your life for you. That’s how.” Anger surfaced again, and he struggled to choke it down. Wasting a life was unconscionable. His fiancée had wasted her life, died after a stupid argument, and he wasn’t going to let Rebel just as surely destroy herself.
“That’s a very different way of looking at it.” She turned away and reached for her mug on the table in front of her, clearly not comfortable with that way of thinking.
“I’m challenging your thinking, Rebel, not your commitment, or loyalty, to your family.” He pushed her hair back from her shoulder.
“You haven’t mentioned your mother at all. Where is she in all of this?” Mothers were a driving force in the lives of children. His had gone from his life entirely too soon.
“I don’t know. We haven’t spoken in a while.” She shrugged and looked away. “It’s hard for me to be around her. I think, whenever I’m with her, I remind her too much of everything she’s lost.”
“She may be sad over her loss, but I think she would be overjoyed at being with you.”
“She’s married again. She’s moved on.” She made a face. “I don’t think she really needs me.”
“Look at me, please?” Her pain was almost tangible, and he wanted to ease it, but he didn’t think he could right at the moment.
It took a few seconds, but she turned her face toward him. The anger still blazed inside him, but it was tempered by compassion. “The question really is, do you want a relationship and a family? If you don’t, then it’s simple, you carry on the way you are. But if you do, then you have to make a change.”
“I did want a family. I grew up loved, and I wanted that for my own children. But when my brothers died, I knew I couldn’t face such pain ever again or bring it to anyone else.” She sighed. “I’ve already tried to have myself sterilized, but no doctor would do it because of my age.”
“You don’t want children?” That would be a crime.
“I would. I did. I do.” She shook her head and her hair caught the firelight. “I gave up thinking about it. It’s not like there have been many men lining up, wanting to father my children. All I could do was have the birth control implant placed in case of accidental pregnancy. It lasts for three years. It’s a pain, but it works.”
“We all have pain. It’s just different for everyone.” Thoughts of the night his fiancée had died surfaced again, but he pushed them away. It was the past and should remain there, though it
hadn’t stayed there, ever. She hadn’t wanted children and it would have ended their relationship had she not died that night.
“You have an incredible family with a history like something out of a story book.” She gestured around the patio, encompassing everything.
“True. But it wasn’t perfect.” He had to concede that. “You don’t know about how many of them were killed or died on the trip to the United States, how many of them died from starvation and disease until the ranch got established, how many died in raids or in gunfights with early settlers, Indians and bandits from Old Mexico.”
She smiled. “I can just see Rafael hanging out with Pancho Villa if he’d been around then.”
Duncan snorted out a laugh, admiring her spirit once again. “Actually, we have a photo of my great-grandfather with Pancho Villa.”
“No way!” Astonishment showed in her eyes.
“Way.” He pressed a kiss to her temple. “My ancestors not only fought disease but Mexican revolutionaries, as well as Mother Nature. It’s not the same thing, but every family has their trials, their grief. My mother and a sister have both died from breast cancer.” He sighed, not letting the pain of their loss intrude on this conversation. “It’s what you do with the pain, how you learn from it, that counts.” He paused for a second. “And growth hurts. It’s uncomfortable, but it challenges you in places you’d never thought about, but in the end it’s worth it.” Like he’d been challenged so many times in his life.
“Wow. I’m so sorry about your losses. I’ll have to think about that.” She dropped her gaze to her mug again and remained lost in thought for a long time. “It’s been quite a day, hasn’t it?”
“Yes, it has. Tomorrow will be crazy, because the family is going to come to check on him.”
“They don’t just call?”
“You’ve obviously not been involved with a large Hispanic family before.” Call? They descended en masse from all corners of the state when there was a family crisis.
“Um, no. No, I haven’t.”
“Just wait. You’ll see.”
Sipping again from her mug, she realized she’d just about consumed the whole thing, but clutched the mug like it was some sort of protective chalice.
He caught her gaze. She was frightened, yet curious. Very intriguing mix this Rebel was. And she had his complete attention.
When she lowered her mug, he placed his left arm around her shoulder and drew her close against his side. With his right hand, he lifted her chin and closed the distance between them. Slowly, he pressed his lips against hers when he really wanted to ravage her mouth. Gently, he squeezed her shoulders when he wanted to clasp her tightly. Easily, he parted her lips with his tongue when he wanted to consume her with his mouth.
She was as sweet as any woman he’d ever tasted, but she was such a frightened, delicate thing he knew he’d have to be gentle, though his body insisted otherwise.
When she pulled back, confusion, curiosity and arousal warred in her face. “I don’t know what to think about this, Duncan. I’m not a virgin, but if I were more worldly, more experienced, I’d know how to deal with this.” This was the first time she’d truly opened up to him, and he didn’t want to let go of it.
“With what?”
“With what’s going on between us.”
“What, exactly, is going on between us?” He knew. He just needed to hear her say it.
She lowered her eyelids. “You know.”
“What I know is this has been brewing since the day we met.” Truly. From the second he’d seen her in the parking lot, she’d held him captive.
“What, exactly, is that?” she asked, turning his words around on him.
“This attraction. This need to touch you, kiss you. This desire to hold you in my arms and never let you go.”
Rebel blinked, uncertain whether he’d just said the words she’d wanted to hear. But she’d never let any man get close enough emotionally to her to say them. She’d always run before she could be disappointed. Could she let Duncan past the barriers she’d erected and held so firm?
“I had a boyfriend in college who I loved dearly. When I finally told him about my family, he broke up with me. Said he couldn’t deal with someone who might die at any moment.”
“He was an idiot to let you go. And it was probably just an excuse.” He reached for her mug and set it aside on the table with his. “Well, it’s been a long day. Why don’t I see you upstairs, and we’ll call it a night, then?”
After removing the Pendleton blanket and setting it aside, he took a look at her, let his gaze wander down over her body, and sighed. Reluctantly, she allowed him to lead her up the curving staircase to the gallery. She stopped at the third door. “This is where Lupe put me, I think.”
“It’s a nice room.” He led the way inside and tugged on her hand, then shut the door.
From the inside.
“Duncan? What are you doing?” She paused, her gaze questioning. She was blossoming right in front of him, opening and tremulous. She was like a new angel just getting her wings.
“Rebel.” He stepped closer, his mind and his body aching to touch her, but this was a moment of great importance. If he scared her, if he hurt her, there would never be any turning back. “Let me stay with you tonight.” He urged her closer. “Let me hold you tonight and let what happens between us happen.” He tilted her face up. “It’s been happening since we met, and I don’t want to let go of it, of you.”
He could see the pulse in her neck thrumming away and his heart raced at a similar pace. He wanted her without a doubt, his body was aching and hard already. But could she accept the intimacy of baring her soul and her skin in one night?
“Duncan.” She closed her eyes and rubbed her face against his hand, allowing herself to accept him in small measures. Their bodies were millimeters away from each other. Her fragrance and the electricity surging between them were almost overwhelming. He had to pace himself or he’d frighten her more than she already was. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Say you want to make love with me tonight.”
CHAPTER NINE
WHEN HE CUPPED his hands around her face and tilted it up to his, she didn’t resist. She couldn’t. How could she resist the one right thing that had happened to her? This moment, this time, this man were all perfect. Pushing away thoughts that she didn’t deserve this, deserve Duncan or to be loved fiercely, she brought her hands to his shoulders and hung on.
There was a change in him, a tuning in, a focus that was intense and overpowering. A chain reaction occurred in her, and she was on fire.
With impatient hands, he whisked the black sweatshirt off, over her head, baring her upper half.
“Wow. I hadn’t expected that.”
“What?” Her breasts weren’t big, but they did the job.
“I expected a sensible white bra, not gorgeous pink nipples with nothing covering them.” His thumb strayed to tease one.
“I was wearing a sensible white bra, but it was wet and I didn’t want to put it back on.” There was no way to hide the flush that covered her entire body.
Watching her face, he cupped both of her breasts in his hands and stroked her nipples. Tingles of desire raged through her, and her eyelids dropped. She didn’t know if she was going to live through this night, but if she didn’t, at least she’d die happy.
“I would like to extrapolate on that idea.”
“Uh… What?” She was nearly delirious with desire, and he was talking theories?
“Since you aren’t wearing a bra, I’m guessing you aren’t wearing panties either.” His right hand explored beneath the waistband and discovered nothing but skin. “I thought so.”
“What?” Brain function minimal. Comprehension vague.
“You are a woman full of secrets.” He leaned closer, his breath hot in her ear. “At first look, one would never guess there’s such a sexy, passionate woman hidden inside you.”
She was about to tell him ther
e wasn’t when she realized it might true. At least when she was in his arms. He kissed her deeply, and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, wanting to draw him inside herself.
Duncan eased her onto the bed and pulled off her sweatpants. Now, naked, anxiety began to surge, and her breath burned in her lungs.
Bouncing up onto her knees, she was about to call the whole thing off when Duncan dragged his shirt off and popped the button of his jeans. His eyes glowed with want for her. She wanted to touch him, feel his skin, put aside any uncertainty of tomorrow and just live in the moment. When her palms touched his chest, all thought of leaving fled.
This was where she needed to be and in this man’s arms.
“Rebel,” he said, gently holding her face, “let’s enjoy right now and let the rest of the world just go away for a while.”
There was no need for an answer as his mouth covered hers and plundered. Hot and wet, his kiss took away her breath and her control. Eagerly, she shoved his jeans down over his hips, exposing more of that tawny skin she wanted against her.
Easing her back, Duncan covered her body with his, pressing her down into the cottony softness of the bedding. He slid one knee between hers and parted them gently. The movement gave her the opportunity to feel how hot and hard he was. Kisses ranged everywhere, and he suckled her nipples into intense peaks, hard and tingling with desire. She was on fire. Duncan was both the cause and the cure.
When his hand roamed over her hip and downward to the core of her, she instinctively parted her thighs, giving him greater access. Shyness had no place here. He released her nipple from his mouth and blazed a hot trail of kisses across her ribs and down past her abdomen.
She was the beauty of his dreams. Soft, luscious and passionate. Each stroke of her body, each restless moan that escaped her throat urged him on closer to that moment when he joined with her, when he was able to let go, to let her take him away. Moving downward, he nuzzled his way to the apex of her thighs. This was what he wanted.
When his hot mouth opened over her core, she stiffened, the sensations taking her to a completely new level of arousal. Her hands dropped to the bedding and clutched it in tight fists. Suddenly, her body wasn’t her own, and she allowed him to do with her anything he wanted.