One-Click Buy: September 2010 Silhouette Desire

by Brenda Jackson

  “So what then? Keep him waiting with us until the surgeons are finished?”

  “Surgeons?”

  Rey felt ill. So there was more than one surgeon working on his brother. Working to save his life. The deep hollow ache that had manifested in his chest during Alex’s first call sharpened and ached that little bit harder. He sent a silent prayer that his brother’s strength and health would be enough to see him through this and that the skill of Isla Sagrado’s best doctors would ensure his return to his family fold, where he belonged.

  He gathered his fears in a tight knot and thrust them to the back of his mind.

  “Did they say how long?”

  Alex shook his head. “Could be hours yet.”

  Rey looked back toward Sara. “Maybe if Sara takes him, Abuelo will agree to go back to the home. Javier can drive them both and then take her back to the cottage.”

  “It’s a good idea, but,” Alex suggested as he curled his arm just that little bit tighter around his wife’s slender waist, “are you sure you don’t need her here?”

  Need her here? Rey’s mind was fogged for a moment but then he realized what his brother was getting at. Of course, under normal circumstances, if his had been a normal engagement, he’d want his fiancée here with him. But would Sara agree to play along? The one time she’d needed medical attention during the event trials where he’d met her, she’d all but run screaming from the first aid tent. All because they’d wanted to examine her when she’d bumped her head after fainting in the heat. He’d have guessed that, under any circumstances, a hospital was the last place on earth she’d choose to be. Besides, their relationship was hardly one where he would expect her emotional support at a time like this.

  He quickly recovered his scattered thoughts. “Perhaps later. She’s tired, just returned from Perpignan.” And God only knows where else judging by the exhaustion dragging at her lithe body. “I didn’t even give her time to say hello before we were on our way here. I’ll suggest it to them after Javier has brought coffee.”

  It must have taken a minor miracle but Javier eventually returned with a series of steaming hot paper cups in varying sizes and handed each to its recipient, the shortest and darkest brew going to Abuelo.

  “Ah, thank goodness. Finally, a decent cup of coffee.” The old man sighed his pleasure as he savored the aromatic beverage.

  “I thought it would be okay, just this once,” Javier said by way of explanation to the brothers. “What they serve him in the convalescent home is…” Javier’s expression left nothing to the imagination.

  “That’s fine,” Rey replied and watched as Sara lifted the top off her cup and blew on the milky contents before taking a sip. Abuelo had distracted him when she’d given Javier her coffee order earlier, but now Rey looked at her in surprise. He knew for a fact that she took her coffee black, when she drank it. In the past couple of weeks, though, she hadn’t touched any, saying she was on a health kick or something like that. Looked like the health kick was over, if the way she obviously enjoyed the coffee now was any indicator.

  Rey watched as her throat slowly swallowed, the muscles moving sinuously beneath her pale skin, and suddenly he was jolted with a burst of sexual awareness that completely blindsided him.

  Their relationship to date had been more platonic than passionate. Sure, they’d exchanged a few kisses in the moonlight, but overall he hadn’t been fixated on getting her into his bed. They had fun together—kept things light and carefree—and that was the way he’d planned on keeping it before eventually carefully deconstructing the engagement and withdrawing with no hurt feelings. Right now, though, he wanted nothing more than to lose himself, and what was happening to his family, in the soft scents of her skin and the sensations of being entwined with her body.

  She looked up at him over the rim of her cup, her gray eyes widening at what he could only assume was the burning hunger reflected in his own. Her hand shook slightly as she tipped her cup straight again and lowered it onto the table next to her. Her pink tongue swept away the trace of moisture left behind by the coffee on her lips.

  Inside, whatever had taken hold of him tightened and sharpened into something totally inappropriate for a hospital waiting room. Remembering that somewhere on this floor his younger brother fought for his life beneath a surgeon’s blade brought Rey painfully back into the here and now. “Querida, you look weary. Perhaps you should go back to the cottage. I can call you there—let you know when we hear any news.” Before she could answer he turned to his grandfather. “Would you escort her back for me, Abuelo? I promise, we will let you know every ten minutes, if necessary, if there are any updates, but for now, I would prefer it if Sara was taken home. Clearly she’s worn out and needs rest.”

  He looked at Sara, his eyes locking with hers and willing her to agree, as he waited for his grandfather’s blustering refusal. He saw the instant she understood his intention and watched as she turned to the old man.

  “Would you? I always feel better if someone sees me to the door, and I’m really drooping here,” she said, clasping his grandfather’s hand between both of hers.

  “I see what you are doing,” the old man grumbled at Rey, “but for this young woman, I will do the gentlemanly thing and escort her home.”

  He slowly rose to his feet, slapping away at Rey’s hand as he reached to support him.

  “I’m not completely incapable yet.”

  He straightened to his full height and stared Rey straight in the eye. “You will tell me. The minute you hear anything.”

  “Sí, Abuelo. I promise.”

  Rey turned to Sara and took both her hands in his. “Go home, rest, I will call you when I hear anything.”

  “I’ll be back in the morning,” she promised, reaching up to kiss him lightly on the cheek.

  It was a butterfly-light touch but every nerve in his body centered on that one spot. As she left the room with his grandfather and Javier, he pressed his fingers to the exact place her lips had touched.

  “You’ve got it bad, mi hermano. If I hadn’t seen it myself, I wouldn’t have believed it. I was worried when you announced your engagement to us and implied you weren’t serious about it. I’m pleased to see you were only joking.” Alex’s voice broke the brief spell that had captured him in its net.

  Rey was momentarily lost for words. Of course he and Sara had kissed before, kissed but nothing more. The engagement was a smoke screen only. A ruse to keep Abuelo from getting even more upset about the three-hundred-year-old legend that had become his obsession. At least that’s all it was supposed to be. Maybe it was just the extreme situation they found themselves in with Benedict’s accident, some age-old instinct to survive at all costs, but right now he wanted a whole lot more than kisses from Sara.

  He pushed aside his reaction with a laugh. It was merely the tension of the situation—the worry over Benedict—and very probably, the length of time since he’d last taken a woman to his bed. It couldn’t be anything more than that. Could it?

  Three

  Rina sat in the backseat of the sleek dark limousine next to the eldest del Castillo, yet her mind was filled with the image of her sister’s fiancé. She fully understood the attraction. In fact, she was left fighting it herself.

  It was all wrong. She and Sara had never been attracted to the same kind of guy before. Ever. While physically, both Rina and Sara’s tastes had run to the tall, dark and handsome guys, Sara was all about presence. She fell for men with as much charisma as swagger. Rina’s men had always been quiet achievers. The kind of guys who were strong and successful but not necessarily right up there on the podium announcing their achievements—the sort you might not look at twice, but if you did, you didn’t regret it. Men like Jacob, although his quiet achievements hadn’t exactly led them along the path she’d expected. Especially not when he’d told her the woman he now loved was his boss.

  “It’s the curse, you know,” Aston del Castillo’s voice interrupted her reverie.
r />   “The curse?”

  “I see he hasn’t told you about it yet. Of course, he doesn’t believe in it, but it’s real.”

  Her curiosity piqued, Rina started to ask what the curse was, exactly, but instead the old man muttered something in Spanish and seemed to doze off.

  Rina leaned forward and tapped Javier on the shoulder. “Is he okay? He just fell asleep.”

  She saw Javier’s eyes in the rearview mirror and then a smile split his face. “Sí, the señor is fine. He is tired and refuses to admit he is not as strong as he used to be.”

  At the cottage, Javier saw her to the front door and waited until she was inside and had turned the iron key in the large black lock before returning to the car. Rina turned around and faced the main room, this time really seeing it properly.

  Uneven beams ran the length of the cottage ceiling. Rather than being dark or daunting, the warmth of the wooden spines that gave the structure its strength was friendly and welcoming combined with the pale creamy apricot-tinted plaster between each. The low rays of the last of the evening sun speared in through the multipaned, deep-set windows. The simple wooden dining suite, and the chintz-covered sofas in the sitting room area, were clearly not new, but retained the patina of time and wear like badges of honor.

  Shelves were built into a recess along one wall, and beneath them a modern television cabinet and stereo unit lounged side-by-side. Rina flicked on the TV, suddenly anxious to disperse the silence of being alone.

  She dropped her bag onto the wooden tabletop and made her way through the open-plan living area to the small kitchen. A gas stove, with a shiny new chrome kettle on one of the burners caught her attention. She filled it and set it on the stove to boil. An old-fashioned coal range dominated the space beside the stove.

  Her stomach growled as she opened the small refrigerator tucked in beneath the bench and was relieved to see her sister had left some food behind. Cheese, some slightly limp vegetables, eggs and a little leftover milk. The expiry date on the milk bottle suggested it was well overdue.

  Rina’s brow furrowed. Her sister could be erratic but she’d always been very particular about food safety after a serious bout of food poisoning when they were first flatting together in their late teens. It wasn’t like Sara not to clean out perishables before going somewhere—she was a stickler for observing expiry dates. This whole situation just got more and more confusing. Had Sara first gone to France in a bit of a rush, expecting to return sooner than today? But then why would she have gone back again? Just trying to make sense of it was making Rina’s head hurt.

  Another rumble from the pit of her belly reminded her it had been a good eight or more hours since her last meal. As slender as she was, Rina had a high metabolism and usually ate regularly.

  She grabbed the eggs and the best of all the vegetables from the fridge and whipped up a frittata for her supper. Tomorrow she’d have to find some way of gathering more groceries to replenish Sara’s supply—especially if there would be the two of them here soon.

  Rina had not long finished her meal and had cleaned up her dishes when she heard a car approach on the road to the cottage. She had the door open as the now familiar Ferrari pulled to a stop outside.

  Her heart hammered in her chest as Reynard unfolded from the driver’s seat and walked through the gate. The suit coat was gone, as well as the immaculately knotted rich burgundy silk tie he’d worn earlier in the day. With his face cast in relief by the setting sun, she couldn’t make out his expression but weariness and dejection pulled at every line of his body. Each step was slow and deliberate. Rina felt unexpected tears prick at her eyes. Clearly the news about his brother was not good.

  “Benedict? Is he going to be okay?” she asked softly as he reached the front porch.

  “He’s made it through surgery and he’s in intensive care. Only one of us is allowed in at a time, and only for short periods. Alex and Loren will stay at the hospital tonight and I’ll head in first thing in the morning.”

  His voice was flat, as if he couldn’t believe the day his family had endured. Instantly, the urge to provide comfort flooded through Rina’s veins. She opened her arms to him as he entered the cottage and without hesitation he clasped her to him.

  He was lean muscle from top to toe, and fraught with a tension that held his body tight like a bow.

  “He’ll be all right, Rey,” she murmured into the broad warmth of his shoulder.

  “They’ve done everything they can—now it’s up to him.”

  His voice was a guttural whisper. Rina was rocked by the strength of emotion she felt pouring from him. The three brothers had to be close, judging by how distraught he was. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what they were all going through. She struggled to find the words that might provide him with some comfort.

  “He’s young and he’s strong, and with you and Alex there for him, he’ll pull through.”

  “I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t.”

  Rina closed her eyes against the building moisture there. The fear in Rey’s voice struck her to her core. She knew if it was Sara there in the ICU, she’d be frantic with worry herself. Slowly she edged from his embrace and pulled away to close the front door.

  “Come in, I’ll make you a warm drink—unless you’d like something stronger?”

  “No, coffee will be fine. I want to have my wits about me should Alex call.”

  Rina nodded and went through to the kitchen and busied herself measuring coffee for the old-fashioned stovetop percolator she’d found in a cupboard earlier in the evening. She sent a silent prayer of thanks skyward that Sara had thought to include in her letter that Reynard took his coffee black and sweet. In her peripheral vision she saw Rey drop into one of the fabric covered sofas, his tall frame all but dwarfing the feminine piece of furniture. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, rubbing at his eyes with long, tanned fingers.

  Once the coffee had percolated, she poured it into a mug and placed it, a spoon and a sugar bowl on a small tray and carried it to Rey.

  “Thanks,” he said, taking the mug off the tray and dropping two cubes of sugar into the steaming liquid and stirred—the clink of the spoon against the ceramic mug loud in the quiet of the room.

  Rina settled onto the facing sofa and watched as he drained the mug in a series of slow pulls. “More?” she asked as he put the mug down on the coffee table between them.

  “No, thanks. I suppose I should head back into town, to my place.” He gave a massive yawn. “Sooner, rather than later.”

  “You could stay here,” Rina offered, even though she had no idea if the cottage boasted more than one bedroom.

  An unsettling thought occurred to her. Wouldn’t he expect to sleep in the same bed with her? What if he wanted to be intimate—to seek comfort from the shock of his brother’s near death in her arms? He was her sister’s fiancé—wouldn’t that be normal under the circumstances? What on earth had she been thinking inviting him to stay?

  Rey shot her a heavy-lidded look. “Are you sure?”

  Oh God, what had she done? She could always plead a headache, a period, or tiredness herself, she supposed. But what if this ridiculous attraction she felt for him enticed her into doing something she knew she shouldn’t?

  Reason overcame fear. He was shattered, and she knew firsthand the physical toll emotional exhaustion took on a person. She doubted he’d have the energy to do anything more than hold her while she slept. A prospect that she had to admit, she found almost too appealing. But it wouldn’t go beyond that. Above all, he was her sister’s fiancé—she could never betray Sara’s trust like that. Ever.

  “Hey, I think one del Castillo in the hospital right now is enough, don’t you?”

  He smiled a sweet, crooked smile. “Two, if you count Abuelo at the convalescent home.”

  “Good point,” she agreed with a smile. “They say three’s a charm but let’s not tempt fate, shall we?”

  “I’ll get
my things from the car.”

  His things? Did he often sleep over?

  “I always keep a set ready in case I stay with one of my brothers,” he explained, in response to the obvious surprise on her face.

  “I’ll, um…I’ll go use the bathroom while you settle in, then.”

  Rina bolted for the bedroom and shoved her suitcase in a small closet, then rifled through her sister’s chest of drawers for a nightgown, praying she still possessed at least one or two that were halfway decent. If he had slept here before, he’d know about things like that, wouldn’t he?

  She fervently wished, not for the first time today, that Sara hadn’t put her in this position. Her fingers closed around an old, oversize T-shirt. She lifted it from the drawer and shook it out. Should be long enough, she surmised—and not sexy enough, which was even more important. Rina bunched the fabric in one fist and made it to the bathroom even as she heard Rey come back in through the front door.

  The old metal lock clicked into place, the sound echoing through the tiny cottage like a knell of some sort. She swallowed against the sudden knot of tension that lodged in the base of her throat. What she wouldn’t give for a chance to talk to Sara right this minute.

  She swung the bathroom door shut behind her and reached for the toiletries she’d scattered around the bathroom before her shower. It only took a couple of minutes to wash her face free of makeup and brush her hair. She took her time over her teeth, even as she promised herself it didn’t make any difference. It wasn’t as if she and Reynard del Castillo would be indulging in anything other than sleep tonight.

  By the time she pulled the soft, worn T-shirt over her head, her heart was beating erratically. If she didn’t get a hold of herself soon she’d be the next one in hospital. Rina forced herself to breathe slowly; her fingers curled tight around the cool, white porcelain pedestal basin as if it was her only anchor in the world. She could do this. All she had to do was fall asleep. Should be simple, right? Forget that the time at home was something ridiculous like seven or eight in the morning—her body clock was so out of whack she should be on the verge of falling asleep on her feet.