Flirting with Disaster

by Jane Graves

  “Did you talk to Alex?” she asked him.

  “Yeah. I talked to him.”

  “Had he already heard?”

  “Oh, yeah. News travels fast in the Tolosa Police Department.”

  “Did you tell him you’re innocent? That it was my fault you were caught up in this situation?”

  “I told him the whole story. Then I told him I was going back down to Mexico.”

  “What did he say to that?”

  “He’s not happy about me leaving my daughter.”

  “Understandable.”

  “He’s not happy about me getting into another potentially dangerous situation.”

  “Also understandable.”

  Dave was silent.

  “What else?” Lisa asked.

  “Nothing.”

  “It’s me, isn’t it?”

  “What?”

  “He knew who I was in high school, and he thinks a man like you shouldn’t be hanging around with a woman like me, desperate situation or not.”

  “No. He doesn’t think that.”

  “You’re lying.”

  Dave let out a breath of frustration.

  “Well, you can tell Alex he doesn’t have a thing to worry about. I mean, a little hot sex between friends hardly translates to a ring and a wedding date, now does it?”

  Dave turned slowly to face her. “Is that all this is to you, Lisa? Hot sex between friends?”

  He looked at her without blinking, and in the dim light of the bedroom his eyes looked dark as coal. Finally she tore her gaze away. She arranged the sheets and blankets mindlessly, then settled back against the pillow again, never meeting his eyes.

  “Come on, Dave. Let’s face it. I’m not Carla. I could never be anything like Carla.”

  He looked at her with surprise. “Is that what you think? That I want you to be like Carla?”

  “That’s the kind of woman you want, isn’t it?”

  “Don’t do that,” he said sharply.

  “What?”

  “Don’t tell me what I want. For God’s sake, Lisa, the whole damned world thinks they know what I want, and I’m sick to death of it.”

  He exhaled sharply, staring at the ceiling. She could see the accelerated rise and fall of his chest, as if he was taking angry breaths, but she didn’t know why.

  Yes, she did. She’d mentioned Carla again.

  Lisa said nothing for a long time, letting the silence settle the air between them. Finally she turned to him and spoke quietly.

  “Then what do you want?”

  A minute passed, maybe more. Finally he let out a heavy sigh, then slowly turned to her, his face a sparse silhouette in the dim moonlight. Rising on one elbow, he moved in close and spoke softly.

  “I want you to be exactly who you are,” he said. “I want you to do outrageous, spontaneous things. I want you to keep me on my toes. I want you to take charge of your own life. I want you to be tough and resilient and think nothing about standing up to the devil himself.”

  He stroked his hand through her hair, slowly, thoughtfully. “But when you hit those places in your life when you just can’t handle things yourself, I want you to come to me.”

  The sincerity in his voice and the burning look in his eyes took her breath away. All she could do was stare at him, a sudden surge of awareness sweeping through her, the most secure feeling that with Dave in her life it wasn’t all up to her anymore.

  As he slid back down to his pillow, taking her hand in his, it struck her that she’d never actually slept with a man in her own bed. If she went to his house, she could make a quick escape afterward so there was none of that morning-after awkwardness. But there would be no awkwardness tomorrow morning. They’d rise at dawn, and once more Dave would do everything he could to help her.

  What the future would bring, she had no idea. But for now, this was exactly where she wanted him to be.

  chapter seventeen

  Until Adam heard Lisa’s voice on the telephone, he hadn’t allowed himself to believe that she really was alive. They’d survived. Both of them had actually survived. And if anyone could persuade Gabrio to come with them, it was Lisa. Never in his life had Adam met anyone as strong-willed, as decisive, as determined as she was. He smiled to himself. If she was driving toward a goal, God help any person who got in her way.

  For the first time since he woke in Sera’s bed, his headache had begun to subside, which was a good indicator against the possibility of ongoing complications. His muscles were still stiff and achy, but his bruises from the fall down that hillside had begun to fade to pale purple and yellow rather than black and blue. Pain still shot through his bullet wound every time he moved, but so far there was no evidence of infection.

  He sat up and eased his legs over the side of the bed with a soft groan. He paused a moment for the little stars dancing in his head to disappear, then rose and took the two impossibly long steps to Sera’s overstuffed chair. He sank into it gently, his muscles first crying out in pain, then relaxing against the new surface. Sera would object—strenuously—but damn, it felt good to be out of that bed.

  It was nearing nine o’clock. Looking out the window, he saw the barn in the distance, lit by flood lamps, where Sera kept her two Shetland ponies. They were all that was left from what had once been a farm full of livestock. More like house pets than horses, they trailed after her like a pair of puppies looking for attention. She’d gone outside to feed them, and he watched her now as she opened the corral and slipped inside. The dappled ponies approached her immediately, sniffing her pockets. She pulled out a carrot, broke off pieces of it, and fed it to them on the flat of her hand.

  Adam had been at Sera’s house many times over the past few years, and more than once he’d gone out to the barn with her to feed the ponies. One night in particular, he remembered standing in the corral with her near dusk, listening to the crickets chirping and the swish of the ponies’ tails as they swept away flies. She mentioned that when she eventually moved back to the U.S. she was going to bring the ponies with her. He told her that she’d better get ready to pay one hell of a big pet deposit.

  She’d laughed a little, then turned to face him. In that moment, something shifted between them. They stared at each other a long time. Too long. She dropped her lashes for a moment, and when she looked back up at him again something had entered her eyes that hadn’t been there before. A knowing expression. A flicker of desire.

  An invitation.

  He’d never in his life wanted to kiss a woman more.

  Instead, he’d turned away, saying something about the ponies or the weather. . . . Hell, he didn’t remember what he’d said. But from that moment on, he’d stopped looking at her as a colleague or even a friend. That was the moment he started looking at her as a woman.

  He watched out the window as Sera went into the barn, and a moment later she emerged with buckets full of grain. She set them down on the ground and the ponies attacked them. With a last pat for each of them, she headed back to the house.

  He heard her come back inside, then her footsteps on the stairs. The shower ran for a while, then fell silent. A few minutes later, she came to the door of the bedroom wearing a robe and slippers. Her eyes widened.

  “Adam! What are you doing up?”

  She hurried into the room, closed the window and pulled the curtains, then turned to face him. “Back to bed.”

  “I’m sick of that bed.”

  “It’s where you belong. Right now.”

  “Damn, you’re bossy.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “I’m in charge here, Doctor, not you. Give me your hand.”

  She helped him back into bed, then gently pulled the covers up to his waist. She sat down beside him, tucking the covers around him. “How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Headache?”

  “Actually, it’s a little better.”

  She took his vital signs and found them to be normal, then checked his pupils.
“That was a nasty contusion. There’s still the chance of delayed hematoma. You could have a slow intracranial bleed as we speak.”

  “Yes, I could. But we’re going to be out of here tomorrow. I’ll have a CT scan the minute we hit Monterrey.”

  “Do you really think Gabrio will listen to Lisa?”

  “She’s our best shot,” Adam said. “As long as he lets her in the door.”

  “That’s where Lisa’s friend comes in. He’s a cop. She says he’ll find a way into that house.”

  “So who is this man she’s bringing with her, anyway?”

  “I have no idea. She says he’s just a friend.”

  “Must be a good one,” Adam said. “She calls him in the middle of the night, and he drops everything and comes seven hundred miles into Mexico to help her. Is there something she’s not telling us?”

  “I guess we’ll find out.” Sera sighed. “Tell me this is going to be over with soon.”

  “You sound as if you want to get rid of me. Have I been such a bad houseguest?”

  Sera smiled softly. “I’ve wanted you in my bed, Adam. I just wish it were under different circumstances.”

  Adam shook his head. Was there anything this woman thought that she didn’t say? “That’s what I like about you, Sera. I never have to wonder what you’re thinking.”

  “But I have to wonder constantly what you’re thinking.” She paused. “How do you feel about me?”

  Loaded question. And one he didn’t want to answer.

  “You know how I feel about you. I think you’re smart, you’re beautiful—”

  “You know what I mean.”

  He turned away. “This isn’t a good time to talk about this.”

  “No, it’s the very best time. You can’t walk away from me.”

  “You’re taking advantage of my condition.”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “Come on, Sera. I’m practically old enough to be your father.”

  “So that’s how you think of me? Like a daughter?”

  Not a chance. If he thought about a daughter the way he thought about Sera, they’d haul him off to jail.

  “I think you know better than that,” he told her.

  “Then don’t tell me it’s an age thing between us, because I’ll know you’re lying.”

  Adam was silent.

  “You never told me why you’re going to Chicago.”

  “To take a new job. You know that.”

  “No. I mean, why are you taking a new job?”

  “It’s a good opportunity.”

  “Right. Chief of staff.” She shook her head. “Sorry. I just can’t see it.”

  “You don’t think I can handle it?”

  “Oh, you can handle it, all right. I just think you’ll be miserable. How many babies do you suppose you’ll be able to deliver while you’re shoveling through a mountain of paperwork?”

  None. Thank God.

  “It’s a small hospital,” he said, “but it’s growing, so a lot of prestige will eventually be associated with the position. In a few years—”

  “You don’t care about prestige.”

  He stopped short, letting out a breath of frustration.

  “You do, however, care about your patients, your friends, your family.” She paused. “And unless I’m mistaken, you also care about me.”

  What could he say to that? The worst thing he could do was try to deny it. She’d see in a heartbeat just how big a liar he really was.

  “I know I’m pushing here, Adam. But I don’t have the luxury of mincing words. Time isn’t on my side.”

  “Sera—”

  “Tell me you don’t love me.”

  He looked away. Stop it, Sera. Please don’t do this to me. Please don’t make me lie to you.

  “Say it, Adam. Say you don’t love me and I’ll never bring it up again.”

  He started to say it. The words were on the very tip of his tongue, poised to come out of his mouth. But he was tired of lying. Tired of lying to himself, tired of lying to her. So damned tired of denying what he’d felt for her all this time that he just couldn’t do it anymore. Words tumbled out of his mouth that had been bottled up for two long years.

  “Of course I love you,” he said. “How the hell could I not love you? You’re an incredible woman, so much so that sometimes it’s all I can do to keep my hands off you, to keep from telling the whole world that I’m in love with you, to keep from stopping people on the street and telling them—”

  “Why didn’t you say something?”

  “Because you need another man, Sera. One who can give you what I can’t.”

  “You have everything I want, Adam. Don’t you know that? You’re the most caring, compassionate man I know. You have a kind word for everyone. You’re lying here, wounded and in pain, refusing to get help for yourself for the sake of somebody else. It’s why I love you.”

  He turned away. “You don’t know everything about me.”

  “Of course not. That’s what a lifetime together is for.”

  A lifetime together. She was killing him. Word by word, she was killing him. If only she knew how desperately he wanted that. And how impossible it was for him even to think about.

  “Sera? Do you remember what you said to me the very first time I met you? About the reason you became a midwife?”

  “What?”

  “You told me that watching a man and his wife holding that new baby, knowing it was something they created together, was the most beautiful thing in the world.”

  “It is,” she said. “I meant every word of that.”

  “I believe you.” He paused. “Sera, if you knew at this moment that you would go through your entire life and never get pregnant, never have a child of your own, how would you feel?”

  “I will have a child of my own.”

  “Answer the question.”

  “I suppose . . . I suppose I’d be devastated.”

  “Yes. Of course you would. Wanting something so close to your heart and knowing you’ll never have it is hell. You want to have children.”

  “Yes. Of course I do. Don’t you?”

  “Did I ever tell you that?”

  She blinked with surprise. “Well, no, but I assumed—”

  “You shouldn’t have.”

  “Adam, you’re hardly too old to have children.”

  “That has nothing to do with it.”

  “But you love children. I don’t understand—”

  “I know you don’t. And I can’t explain it to you. Just know that I’m way past being able to think about that.”

  She stared at him a long time, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. “There’s something else.”

  “Something else?”

  “Something you’re not telling me.”

  “I don’t know what else there is to say.”

  “Plenty,” she said softly. “I can see it in your eyes.”

  “It’s getting late. I’m a sick man, remember? I need my rest.”

  “You’ve never told me about your wife.”

  Adam froze, stabbed by pain that was as raw and real as it had been three years ago. He turned away from Sera’s sharp gaze, wishing she’d stop probing into things that were best left alone.

  “You never talk about her,” Sera went on. “Who she was, how she died. I asked Lisa about her once, but she said I should talk to you. I suppose I should have long before now.”

  “Sera—”

  “You and your wife never had children. Why not?”

  Adam’s pulse kicked hard, and in seconds his heart was racing. Looking down, he saw his hands had tightened into fists and he didn’t even realize he’d done it. He consciously relaxed them, only to realize his palms were sweating.

  “We almost did,” he said quietly.

  “I don’t understand.”

  Just tell her, damn it. After all this time can’t you at least say it without falling apart?

  “My wife died when she was seven months pregna
nt.”

  For several seconds, all Sera did was stare at him, her lips parted in a small, silent gasp. Then slowly she slid her hand to her throat, tears welling up in her eyes.

  “Oh, Adam,” she whispered. “I’m sorry. So sorry. I had no idea.”

  Her compassion only fueled his misery. He couldn’t look at her. He couldn’t stand to see the empathy on her face that reflected the pain in her heart.

  “To lose both a wife and a child,” she murmured. “The pain you must have felt . . . I can’t even imagine. . . .”

  “Please, Sera,” he said. “Please don’t. I can’t take this.”

  He couldn’t. He couldn’t stand the flood of memories that came rushing back to him, the incessant echoing of Ellen’s voice inside his head, the overwhelming helplessness and despair that he knew he might never overcome. And he certainly couldn’t deal with it in front of Sera.

  “Please leave,” he implored her, refusing to meet her eyes anymore. “Right now. Please.”

  But still she sat there. After a moment, he felt her hand against his cheek. “Adam . . .”

  He turned back to see a single tear coursing down her face. Her own burning desire to have a child was reflected in the pain she felt for him, and that only tormented him more.

  She eased closer to him, so close that her long dark hair fell along his forearm. She rested her other hand against his thigh, but it wasn’t until he felt her breath against his lips that he realized what she intended to do.

  “Sera—”

  “No,” she whispered. “I have to. . . .”

  She pressed her lips to his in a tender kiss, her other hand stroking his thigh in the faintest of caresses, as if she was driven to touch him and afraid of hurting him all at the same time. That gentle touch was enticing beyond measure. He knew he should be pulling away, but he’d wanted to kiss her for such a long time, a thousand times over, and he found himself leaning into her, tilting his head and closing his mouth over hers.

  It was wrong. He knew it was wrong, but he hadn’t kissed a woman in three long years, and the feeling overpowered him. But not just because he was kissing a woman. It was because he was kissing Sera, who was more special to him than anything else in his life. Pain still pounded at his head, but he didn’t feel it. Memories circled the periphery of his mind but stayed at bay. His heart was still racing, but his despair had shifted to euphoria, his anxiety to exhilaration. For a few blessed moments, he felt nothing but Sera’s kiss and the love she was pouring into him.