He nodded slowly. “Sure, in big cities, in advanced countries, but not out here in the middle of nowhere.”
Heather frowned. “Can’t you do something about it?”
His mouth twisted with brief annoyance. “No, Heather, I can’t. I’m not an orthopedic surgeon. It takes a specialist to do that kind of work, and that sort of specialist doesn’t make many house calls to Pacific islands.”
Heather bit her lip. “Do you mean to tell me something could be done to help Lizzie, but it never will be because there’s no surgeon close enough to do it?”
Mitch seemed to be taking her comments as criticisms toward his own work, and he reacted defensively. “Until I came to this island, Heather, these people didn’t have a single doctor closer than Guam. Kevin was here, but let’s face it, nice as the guy is, he’s no doctor. Bacterial infections and diseases were killing people every month who would never have died if they’d lived in Flagstaff. People are living today because I’m here to care for them.”
Heather stared at him, nonplussed by the passion in his voice. “All through the islands you’ll see people with deformities and birth defects that you never see in the more advanced countries. The only reason we can clean them up there is because we have the facilities and the personnel to do the job. These people don’t have that luxury.”
Heather shook her head. These were unpleasant realities she’d never really faced before. “But Lizzie...”
“Lizzie has a club foot,” he said harshly. “It’s too bad, but she handles it bravely.”
“Handles it bravely?” Heather lay back down, staring up at the ceiling. “What else can she do?” she said softly, almost to herself. “Poor little thing.”
He rose above her again and kissed the hollow of her collarbone, flooding her with exquisite warmth. “Never mind Lizzie,” he told her softly. “Just think about us, about how you’re going to stay with me, about all the nights and days we’ll have like this one.”
She closed her eyes again and let the magic drift over her body. She loved him so. If only it were as simple as he seemed to think it was.
“Are you talking about marriage, Mitch?” she asked, suddenly taking courage and voicing the question that stood out starkly in her mind. “Do you want to go back to that?”
The words trembled in the air and she waited, unconsciously holding her breath. She didn’t dare open her eyes to see his reaction. She wanted to hear it in his voice.
“Of course I’m not talking about marriage,” he said at last, and the air escaped her lungs slowly, as though from a drooping balloon. “We don’t need that. We had something special, something priceless, and we ruined it by getting married. We won’t make that mistake again.”
Luckily he didn’t seem to expect an answer. He was kissing her again, exploring her body tenderly, and she lay back, eyes tightly shut against the tears that stung them.
But wasn’t he right, she asked herself impatiently. Hadn’t marriage destroyed everything? Hadn’t the need to plan a life together been their downfall? If they forgot about the future, about planning and saving and children, if they allowed themselves to drift along on passion and the joy they took in each other’s company, their relationship might work better.
But even as she tried to convince herself, Heather knew that such a relationship was not for her. She couldn’t stay here with him, not like this. She must get those papers signed and be on her way.
She opened her eyes and focused on something on the wall behind the bed. What was it? It was so large, so hairy...
Her scream jerked him away from her, and he leapt to his feet, staring wildly about the room. “What is it?” he demanded. “What’s the matter?”
She couldn’t speak; she could only point soundlessly at the huge spider on the wall only inches from the bed.
Mitch relaxed immediately. “What, that harmless little garden spider?” he scoffed, rejoining her. “He’s a pet. I call him Herman. He only comes out after a rainstorm to see how the hunting is.”
“Little?” she finally managed to gasp. “He’s as big as your fist, and hairy...” She choked on the words, revulsion shuddering through her in waves of near nausea.
Mitch found her reaction terribly amusing. “A mere pup.” He chuckled. “I’ve seen others twice his size. I’m waiting for him to bring home a mate.”
Heather was slipping out of the bed, her eyes glued to the spider on the wall. There was no way she was going to stay within pouncing distance of that monster.
“I think I’ll pass on that heartwarming sight,” she muttered, feeling around for her clothes and slipping into them without once dropping her guarded stare. “Come on, Mitch. The papers, remember?”
He was quiet for a moment. “You won’t need them, Heather,” he said at last. “Not if you’re staying here with me.
She avoided his eyes, looking about for her panty hose. “But I’m not staying,” she answered crisply. “I have no intention of staying.”
She found her hose at last and sighed with disgust. Another pair ruined. That meant she had only one pair left. Oh, well. She’d be on a plane shortly, heading back across the Pacific. One pair ought to last until she hit Hawaii, where she could buy replacements.
Mitch was standing very close, but he didn’t touch her. “Why?” he asked quietly. “Why won’t you stay? Is it because of the spider?”
She tried to laugh. “Don’t be silly. Although I can’t say he’s much of an enticement.” She wadded her panty hose into a ball and shoved them inside her purse. “You know what it is as well as I do.” She raised her chin and looked him square in the eye. “You can’t stand my lifestyle and I can’t stand yours. We’re physically attracted, but emotionally incompatible. It’s as simple as that.”
Something dangerous flashed behind the dusky hardness in his eyes, and she stepped back in alarm. But he seemed to want control himself before he said or did anything to challenge her. He narrowed his glance and tried to smile. “You’re wrong, Heather,” he told her quietly. “What can I do to convince you?”
If she stayed here looking at his beloved face, she would start to cry. Determinedly she turned away. “Where are the papers?” she demanded again, her voice forced.
“Just a minute. I’ll get them.” He pulled his clothes on while she waited, gazing at the stereo, at the kitchen, anywhere but at his strong muscular body.
“I left them on the table in the clinic,” he said evenly, opening the connecting door and ushering her into the examining room.
At last she was going to get the papers signed. She had to admit to herself that he was acting quite the gentleman now. She supposed he knew he was beaten, that every trick he’d tried to pull on her had only turned her further from his goal. Now he was ready to do what she’d come for. It was finally over.
“Which table?” she asked, looking around.
“Where I keep the pharmaceuticals,” he replied, gesturing toward a corner of the room. “I dropped them on top of a tray of penicillin.”
She walked quickly up to the table. “I don’t see any penicillin,” she said shortly. “And I don’t see my papers.”
He came up behind her. “I’m sure that’s where I put them.” Was there something a bit too smooth in his voice?
She whirled and stared at him, but his expression was one of bland accommodation. “When was that?” she asked suspiciously.
He shrugged, a picture of casual unconcern. “Yesterday evening when I was closing down the clinic.”
Her thoughts returned to the previous evening. “And you put them on a tray of penicillin?”
He nodded, as if expecting her to solve a puzzle. She frowned. “Didn’t Dede say something about taking your penicillin?”
Again he nodded, a tiny smile twisting the edges of his mouth.
She spun back to look at the table, then bent to look underneath and on the floor. “Was that the same tray?” she demanded.
“Must have been,” he drawled. “I guess
she didn’t notice the papers. Must have taken them right along with the penicillin.”
Still standing with her back to him, Heather closed her eyes, gathering strength. “And when will Dede be back?”
“You never can tell. One week, maybe two.”
“Mitch!” She whipped around and glared at him. “You did this on purpose! I should have known you’d use some trick...” She started toward him, fists raised.
“Wait a minute.” He raised his hands, palms out, to hold back her assault. “You can’t pin this on me. I’m an innocent bystander.”
“Innocent!” Her tone dripped with sarcasm, but inside she was in mortal anguish. She’d worked so hard, been so strong, and she’d succeeded in holding off his attempts to make her stay. Now, just when she thought she’d reached the finish line, she found out it had been moved around the track again. She wasn’t sure she could run that lap one more time. Impotent rage almost choked her.
“I came all this way... Mitch, what am I going to do now? I can’t go back without your signature on those papers. What am I going to do?”
His hands still covered her shoulders, and she could tell he was fighting hard to hold back a delighted smile. “I guess you’ll just have to wait until Dede gets back. Sorry.”
She stared up at him, her mind in turmoil. Had he done this on purpose? Had he sent the papers away with Dede? Were the papers even gone, or were they hidden somewhere in his office?
But no, as he said so often, he didn’t lie. Still, he was enjoying what had happened. Anger was growing in her, an anger larger and more threatening than any she had ever felt before. He might enjoy this, but she would make damn sure he didn’t profit by it.
She pulled swiftly out of his grasp. “Mitch Carrington,” she hissed through clenched teeth, “I’m going to stay and wait for those papers to return. But I’m not staying here with you; I’m staying at Mele’s. And if you come near me once—“
“Heather,” he interrupted, “don’t be ridiculous. I won’t put any pressure on you. Just let—“
“No,” she insisted. “I don’t want anything to do with you. Don’t you dare try to bind me to you with your seductive ways.” She jumped back as he reached for her again. “Keep your distance, Mitch,” she ordered. “I’ll never forgive you for this.”
She knew he tried to stop her as she gathered her things and went raging out the doorway, but she didn’t look at him, didn’t bother to react in any way. From now on, as far as she was concerned, he was invisible.
She raised her head as she walked across the road to the Coconut Club. The thirsty earth had soaked up the water from the rainstorm, but there was a freshness in the air that felt good, despite her frazzled state. She was strong, and she would survive even this setback.
She met no one on the lanai and managed to slip upstairs without having to talk to anyone. Music from the bar filtered up through the walls, the sad, longing notes of the country western music matching her melancholy mood.
Once in her room, she went swiftly to the window to look down on Mitch’s clinic. He was coming out of the building, but he headed straight for the Jeep, not looking up to where she was standing. She watched him drive out of the village, then turned to look around her room feeling like an animal caged against its will.
This was absolute insanity. How could she stay here for a week waiting for the papers? But what choice did she have?
Mitch might not have given them to Dede by design, but he’d certainly known she’d taken them and he’d said nothing until he had to. It made her furious to think of how he must have been laughing up his sleeve when she told him so confidently that she was leaving right away.
She was stuck on this miserable island, stuck in this little bedroom... A horrible thought came to her, sending fresh shivers down her spine. Gingerly, she went to the walls, thoroughly searching every nook and cranny in her room. If one of those tremendous spiders was hiding somewhere inside, she wanted to know about it.
Not an insect nor an arachnid was to be found, however, and she breathed a relieved sigh. The freshness of the rainstorm had dissipated, leaving behind the heavy, heavy heat, and she lay down on her bed, intent upon thinking a way out of her dilemma.
It was strange how completely she believed him after so many months of doubting him. He wasn’t having an affair with Dede. He never had been. Just bringing her suspicions out in the open and seeing his incredulous denial had convinced her.
Yet where was the euphoric relief she should be feeling? Its absence puzzled her.
But of course she knew the answer. It never had been Dede, not really. The truth was, she’d always been jealous of anything that took Mitch away from her, whether it was his work or his dreams. Just because Dede wasn’t one of his distractions didn’t make him loyal to Heather again. He was still involved in too many activities that excluded her completely.
In Flagstaff, his compassion for the less fortunate had kept him from her. During the first blissful months of their marriage, he’d thought of nothing but her night and day. But gradually he’d returned to the real world, leaving her behind.
She’d tried to compensate by immersing herself in her art, and when she’d achieved success, she’d somehow thought she would win back his attention, too. Remembering, she realized now that her goal had always been to interest him again, to hold his eye, monopolize his time.
It had worked for a little while. He’d been proud of her, and she’d tried to draw him into her world. She’d dreamt of the splash they could make, he as the fastest-rising young physician on the hospital staff, she as a successful artist.
But once again he began to withdraw. He made fun of the society people she’d begun seeing, and he grew bitter. The more he worked with the poor Indians and transients in Santa Fe, the more he resented the wealthy people who paid her good money to draw pictures of their houses.
“Face it, Heather,” her cousin Trevor had said, “he feels out of place with successful people. The man won’t ever make a name for himself, and he resents having to go around under your banner.”
She wouldn’t have accepted a statement like that without a blazing battle from anyone but Trevor. The two of them had been companions since childhood. Trevor had always been more a best friend than a cousin to her. And he knew he could say almost anything and get away with it.
“But he’s a good doctor,” she’d protested stoutly.
Trevor had smiled indulgently. “Good doctors get good positions,” he reminded her. “Mitch hasn’t even been offered a place on the staff.”
It was true. His residency was drawing to a close and she’d heard nothing about offers, either from the hospital or from local medical corporations. She hadn’t allowed herself to think that Trevor might be right, but a little worm had gnawed away at her resolve.
The only job Mitch had ever mentioned had been Dede’s plan to return to Ragonai. When Heather had said she didn’t want to live on a tropical island, he’d stared at her as though he didn’t believe her.
“Think of Tahiti in the twenties,” he’d told her. “Think of Hawaii a century ago.”
“Think of Flagstaff right now,” she’d snapped back. “This is where our life is. This is where we can put down roots and build something. Not on some piece of flotsam in the middle of the ocean.”
Those memories were still painful, and she tried to wipe them from her mind. She had to think of a way out of this mess. She closed her eyes, trying to concentrate. In a moment, she was asleep.
Heather woke to the strains of the Jackson County song again. She was stiff and a little sore from the unaccustomed position she’d been sleeping in, but she knew a brisk shower would knock out the kinks. She washed her hair and dressed slowly, putting on the sundress once again. She had very little choice. What was she going to wear for an entire week on this island?
This time the dining room was crowded with people. Kevin was seated with two other men, and he waved to her as their eyes met across the room. “H
eather, you’re still here!” All three men rose as she approached the table. She gestured for them to sit down again.
“I’m still here,” she agreed, trying to smile.
“Well, you just may be in luck,” Kevin went on, not giving her a chance to continue. “Meet Terry Chan and Guy Pardo. They run a nice little charter service—glass-bottom boats, you name it—out of Guam. They may have a ride for you as far as Apra Harbor.”
She smiled at the two men, acknowledging the introduction. “I’m afraid I can’t leave right now,” she said, sighing as she took a seat next to Kevin. “In fact, it looks like I’ll be here for at least another week.”
“Oh?” Kevin’s eyes shone with barely-suppressed interest, but he quickly changed the subject and led the others in a discussion of deep-sea fishing off the Marianas Trench. Later, while Heather gave Mele her order, Kevin said good-bye to Chan and Pardo, promising to take them somewhere mysterious first thing in the morning.
“Now,” he said when they were alone, “give it to me straight. What has our cunning Mitch done to bring about this change of heart?”
She shook her head, taking a sip of the white wine Mele had served her. “There’s been no change of heart, Kevin, only a change in the status of the papers I brought for Mitch to sign. As those papers are now enjoying a cruise of the Western Pacific, I’ll have to bide my time until they return.”
Kevin chuckled. “You mean he... ?”
“I mean they somehow ended up with the penicillin Dede took last night. You did know Dede was here? I take it she breezes in and out at will. Even in and out of Mitch’s house.”
“Wait a minute,” Kevin said warningly, reaching out an upraised hand. “Mitch and Dede have a working relationship, that’s all. Not that there hasn’t been a bit of talk since the day they arrived together. But knowing Mitch as I do and”—he grinned—“knowing Dede, I can unequivocably swear—“
“Never mind,” she interrupted. “He told me there was no affair, and I believe him. But why does she walk into his place at all hours?”
“Because they’re partners, darling.” He hesitated, then added. “And perhaps because there’s no reason to think she might be interrupting anything. Mitch doesn’t mess around with the local girls.”
Charmed By You ((Destiny Bay Romances-The Islanders 5)) Page 10