by Caryn Carter
"I'll be there in the morning, early, so you can go home and get some rest." She'd have to call Nick as soon as she hung up so he wouldn't be counting on breakfast tomorrow. With that settled, a disturbing thought crept up on her.
"Franny? Did the doctor say how soon it would be if they have to operate?"
Franny sniffled. "One of the doctors said if it's what she suspects, and Mom is in good health otherwise, they might have to operate within the week." She sniffled again. "Bella, you'd better cancel the cruise."
No need to remind her of that. It was the first thing she'd thought of after hearing the news about her mother.
Chapter Three
Bella got home from the hospital at three Sunday afternoon, to find Nick waiting for her on her doorstep. She had a scant few seconds from the time she pulled into the drive, parked, searched the floor for the bag containing her mother's soiled clothing and the small bag of groceries she'd picked up, to collect herself.
She hadn't expected Nick to be here. When she'd called him this morning and explained the situation about her mother, she'd promised to call him as soon as she got home.
Seeing him here in broad daylight was a jolt to her senses. Even in the midst of worry over her mother that had kept her awake most of the night, she hadn't been able to forget Nick and the effect he had on her. From the moment she'd caught his gaze at the bar, she'd felt a strange connection to him--a sharp stab of sexual need that had both surprised and excited her.
Nick met her at the bottom step, and without asking, took the bag of groceries from her. She avoided looking directly at him, afraid her desire for him would be too apparent. She climbed to the top step, and with a weary sigh, sat down. Nick sat down next to her, so close their thighs touched. She immediately bounced up and headed for the front door. Nick followed her like a puppet on a string.
"Things aren't going well with your mother?"
He'd evidently connected her nervousness to being upset over her mother's condition and shame washed over her because it should have been the reason. "As well as can be expected. She'll probably have to have an operation, but at least we know now that the attacks she's been having for the past couple of months weren't from nerves as we'd originally thought. It's consoling in an odd sort of way."
She stuck the key in the door with unnecessary force, threw the door open and hurried inside so she wouldn't have to torture herself with his body too close to hers. She dropped her purse and the bag of clothes on the closest living room chair and headed for the kitchen. Nick matched her step for step and stopped only after she did. He placed the bag of groceries on the kitchen table.
With little memory of how she'd gotten there, she suddenly found herself at the kitchen sink. "I didn't expect to see you here. I told you I'd call when I got home." Nervously, she took the small clay pot with the withering violet in it from the window sill and gave it a few drops of water, added a few drops more to buy some time until her hands stopped shaking. When that didn't work, she sucked in a deep breath.
It was becoming difficult to think with Nick so close. He filled the air around her with heat even in the cool, air-conditioned house. For one terrible, insane moment she wanted to throw herself at him, beg him to make love to her right then and there so she'd no longer be tortured with wondering if he ever would. Or how she would go on if he never did.
Insane thoughts, she admitted, for a woman who had imposed a vow of celibacy on herself for the past seven years. A woman who had also vowed to forever steer clear of men whose reckless charm and dangerous good looks gave them the pick of any woman they chose.
Because, in the end, those men always chose women as beautiful to look at as they themselves were. And the ones like herself, who could lay claim only to flaming red curls and unusual violet eyes, had one of two choices: stay and risk being hurt--or walk. She hadn't walked. Twice. As the saying goes, "Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me." Well, she'd been duly shamed.
Nick's voice broke the train of her thoughts and she turned to face him.
"I got to feeling pretty bad on the way home last night thinking about what I'd laid on you and how you were probably more frightened than you admitted. Then when you told me this morning about your mother ... well, I really wanted to kick myself in the ass."
"You couldn't have told me all that on the phone?" She hadn't meant to sound so sharp and was about to apologize for her bad manners, but he seemed not to notice and continued talking.
"Yes, I could have. But the other part of the equation is that aside from wanting to apologize, I also wanted to try and make you feel better. I knew you'd probably refuse another dinner date, so I figured if I just showed up, maybe we could order pizza or I could go out for Chinese or whatever else you feel like eating."
She looked at the bag of groceries and suddenly had a wild and crazy thought. She'd invite him to stay and eat with her. He was here, she'd picked up the fixings for hamburgers, so why not? She'd even broken her rule of eating only one bag of chips per week and bought the second in as many days. Now she wouldn't have to worry about devouring all of them herself and being afraid to step on the scale tomorrow. The upside of one hundred and thirty was the absolute most her five feet three frame could handle without tilting from plump to downright fat.
Besides, she hadn't had one bite of food since dinner last night. She was starving and she couldn't very well eat in front of him.
"I intended to fix a hamburger for lunch." She hitched her chin at the bag. "There's plenty enough for two. Probably enough for three or four."
"I'd rather you didn't have to work."
"I don't mind. Cooking is relaxing for me." And she desperately needed to relax right now for more reasons than she cared to think about.
"I could help. I'm all thumbs in the kitchen but I'd be willing to do the grunt work."
"I'd rather do it myself, if it wouldn't offend you to just sit and watch."
He turned a chair around and straddled it, resting his chin on his forearms. "I'm all eyes."
Couldn't she do anything right? Now she'd have the feel of his eyes on her with every move she made. She snatched the bag from the table, brought it to the counter and started unloading the contents.
Figuring it was a good time to get some clarity on the Kevin situation, she spoke without even turning around. "There is something that really puzzles me about what you told me." She pressed out half a dozen hamburger patties on the white plastic chopping board. "Kevin isn't due out of prison for two more weeks. Why would anyone be looking for him already? If they actually are," she added.
"Probably just to be certain he didn't get out sooner than expected. It does happen sometimes."
She turned to face him. "And they hope to nab him on my front porch?"
"There are people, on both sides of the law, who firmly believe Kevin has a bundle of money stashed away. For different reasons, each side wants to get to that money first--before Kevin has a chance to slip out of their reach."
"I've thought a lot about what you told me last night. There's something I don't understand. If Kevin is supposed to have taken all that money, where has it been all this time? Where is it now?"
When he didn't answer, she turned and looked at him. His expression told her everything she needed to know.
"So, since I was his soon-to-be-life-partner, I have the money?" He didn't contradict her. "That's absurd," she declared.
He shrugged. "Absurd or not..."
Angered by the comment, Bella spun around, rummaged in a bottom cabinet, came up with her favorite black iron skillet, banged it down on the stove and turned the fire up high under the pan. While she waited for the skillet to heat, she salted and peppered the hamburgers, unwound the plastic from the lettuce and ran the tomato under water. Slowly, some of the anger dissipated, but not her awareness of Nick watching her. Or her awareness of what was happening to her body. How her nipples had hardened. How her belly had tightened.
The burgers siz
zled when she laid them in the hot skillet--sizzled like her blood did as she wondered how she was going to get him to leave--and knowing she really didn't want him to.
It would be more dangerous for her to accept his protection than to see this danger through on her own, but she had a sinking feeling that she had no say in the matter. By some bizarre twist of fate they'd both lost a loved one because of the same senseless act, and at least for the present, they were inescapably bound together.
She had to make sure though, that those bonds didn't stretch into the future.
For now they were allies and she would have to take him into her confidence.
"I never mentioned it last night, but I'm booked on a cruise due to leave two days before Kevin's release. With my mother ill and possibly needing an operation, in all probability I won't go, and that upsets me. Regardless of what anyone believes, I really don't want to be here when Kevin gets out."
Chapter Four
The fear he detected in Bella's voice when she declared she didn't want to be around when Kevin got out of prison upset Nick, but the news about the trip she had planned unsettled him more.
Unaware of Nick's inner turmoil, Bella glanced over her shoulder and asked, "How do you like your onions? Raw or sautéed with your burger?"
"I'll take mine the same way you take yours."
She scraped the onions into the pan and the delicious smells of the mixture floated his way. His mouth watered, but it wasn't from the tantalizing smells coming from the stove as much as it was from the tempting sway of Bella's hips as she moved. He fought an almost irrepressible desire to rush over and cup her rounded bottom in his hands, lift it and let it slide slowly down the front of his painfully tight jeans.
She spun around to face him and he felt the blood rush up his neck. Had she sensed the lewd picture he'd formed in his mind?
He needn't have worried. She was concerned about something much more practical.
"How soon can you get started on a security system for me?"
He blinked and shook his head to clear away the lingering image of her soft buttocks rubbing against his hard shaft.
"As soon as necessary. Tomorrow, if possible. But do you seriously want one? I mean, I have to admit I'm kind of surprised you don't already have one, living alone. But I wouldn't want you to rush into something you might regret later. The systems I sell are state-of-the-art. High tech. Very expensive. Although I will cut you a deal you won't be able to pass up."
"Expense is not an issue. And up until a week ago, I did have a security system. His name was Max. He was a German Shepherd that would have given his life to protect me." She pressed her lips together, blinked back a tear.
"He died?"
She nodded and turned back to the stove. "He had a heart attack. It was sudden but not altogether unexpected. He was fourteen years old." She opened the bag of hamburger buns, set them back down and walked to the refrigerator. "Mayonnaise or mustard?"
"Mustard."
"Pickles?"
"Yes."
"Sweet or dill?"
"Dill. And yes, I can have someone here first thing in the morning. What time do you leave for work?"
"Usually around eight. Although tomorrow I'm leaving early so I can stop by the hospital on my way to the office. I'll give you my spare key before you leave and your guy can come in and get started whenever he wants. I take it your personnel are insured and bonded?"
He was suddenly inundated by a watershed of guilt. She was making everything too damn easy for him. Accepting what he'd offered without even checking his company out or calling in another security firm for a second quote.
"Are you afraid of Kevin?"
Her back was still to him and even though she didn't answer, he could tell by the way her spine stiffened that this was a touchy subject.
He stood and walked over to her, fighting an almost overwhelming urge to put his arms around her and pull her against him. He didn't trust himself to touch her, though. He was afraid if did he wouldn't be able to put the brakes on. But damn, he wanted to so bad his teeth hurt.
In the end, he settled for standing a foot away from her. Not too close to torture himself, but close enough to gauge her reaction accurately.
"Did he threaten you when he called?"
"No."
"Then what is it?"
"There ... there was something in the tone of his voice. Something I couldn't put my finger on."
For a moment he almost fell into the trap and believed her. Out loud he acted as if he did. "Bella, the guy's been in the big-house for seven years. He's not going to sound, or act, like the same guy he was when he went in."
She sighed. "You're right, and I have no real reason to fear Kevin personally. But I still want the security system. My meeting you was fortuitous in that regard." She reached into the cabinet above her head and retrieved a couple of plates.
"Lettuce and tomato?"
Screw his hard-on. He reached out and grasped her shoulders, spun her around and looked into those violet eyes that reminded him of a clear horizon after a storm had passed. He'd never wanted a woman in his life as badly as he wanted this one at this moment.
But it was too soon and he knew it. He had to keep his head clear and his mind focused. When he took her it was going to be at a time when his emotions were grounded and every move he made was calculated and deliberate.
"Whether or not you have reason to be frightened, you'll have the best system in the business. I promise." He gave her a confident smile and nudged her away from the counter and toward the kitchen table. "Now, you go sit down and rest. I may be no good in the cooking department but I can carry food to the table and put ice in glasses."
They shared very little conversation while they ate, but on the last bite of his second hamburger Nick got tired of watching Bella move food from one side of her plate to the other. "I thought you were hungry. You haven't taken a bite in the last five minutes and you still have half your hamburger left." She'd cut the burger in half as soon as she sat down but he figured it was just so she could manage it better. Now he wasn't so sure. He was sure though that something was bothering her.
"I was. Now I'm full. I don't want to overeat."
"Did you have breakfast?" She'd called him from the hospital early so he doubted she'd had a chance to eat before she left home.
"No. I was in a hurry to see my mother."
He dipped his head toward her plate. "Then how can you be full when you've still got half a burger in front of you?"
"Look," she said, "I don't mean to sound cranky, but if you don't mind I'd rather not discuss my food habits at the moment. Let it suffice to say I've lived with the results of stuffing one's face beyond necessity for all of my life. I don't want to be another statistic."
What the hell was she talking about? "What statistic?"
Her frustration with him rolled out of her on a long sigh. She pushed her plate aside and stared hard at him. "If you insist on probing, then dammit, I'll tell you what statistic. I have a mother who's probably going to need major heart surgery because she's one hundred pounds overweight and I have a sister whose marriage fell apart primarily because she let herself get so fat that after only five years of marriage there wasn't one thing left in her closet that still fit her."
He didn't back down from her stare. Finally, he looked down at her plate. "Is that what this is all about? Your fear of getting fat? Is that why you didn't finish your steak last night?"
"I finished most of it. The potato I didn't really need."
At the moment he felt much older than the four or five years he figured he had on her. "Sweet thing," he said, so softly he heard his own breath escape while he spoke, "you could gain fifty pounds and you'd still look good enough to eat."
Her mouth fell open and he damn near had to hold his own chin up when he realized the boldness of his words.
Color rushed up her neck and reddened her cheeks.
His own embarrassment nearly choked him. "
I'm sorry," he mumbled, "I shouldn't have said that." But then he regretted the apology, because he'd meant every word. And unless he was completely misreading her, she looked pleased even if she might not admit it.
His brazenness knew no bounds. He kept his head high and looked directly into her eyes. "Maybe I took a liberty in saying it, but damn it, Bella, I meant every word." He made an X across his chest. "Cross my heart."
She blushed some more, but a smile stole across her face.
He swallowed hard. She was not the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, but she was far and away the most enticing one he'd ever known. In less than twenty-four hours he'd come to feel as if he'd known her forever.
He wanted to kick himself, not for the emotion, but for the cruel twist of fate that had brought her into his life. And for an even crueler twist that made it impossible for him to keep her there.
* * * *
Bella's heart pounded erratically when she closed the door behind Nick. He'd tried for an hour to get her to agree to dinner the next night but she'd been adamant in her refusal.
Not that he'd bought her excuse about wanting to stay at the hospital for as long as she could. He didn't try to hide the fact that he was aware of the real reason she didn't want to see him again so soon.
She was afraid of him. Not in the same way she was afraid of Kevin, of course. She was afraid of being sucked under a tidal wave by Nick's blatant admiration of her body. Or, more accurately, his claim thereof.
She ran her hands over her hips to test whether or not she was still comfortable with her figure. Since her heartbreak over Kevin seven years ago, she'd given little thought to what she ate or how much she weighed. She'd just stayed the course and that had been enough for her. The few pounds she'd added these past seven years hadn't really bothered her until lately. There had been no reason for her to worry about a svelte figure since she had no one to impress anymore.