Wounds That Won’t Heal

by Calle J. Brookes

  "Holden-Deane and I…polite is not the real word for what's happened between us. I did knock him into Houghton’s pool, you know," Jillian grumbled. She looked over her shoulder at Ari and Paige, just in time to see the two smirking at each other. They were trying to mess with her head, weren't they? And they'd even gotten Carrie involved in it. Suspicion filled her. They thought they were so clever.

  Ari looked at her intently. "Well, are you going to go give it to him?"

  Paige snickered. “Give him something, anyway. Trust me, it helps their disposition greatly.”

  Jillian shot the older woman a glare. "Behave. It's not like that. I swear."

  "And I said the same thing once. Anyway, your guest is leaving. You were the one to invite him. Give him the food, tell him its complements of his sisters. See how that makes him feel."

  "You two are annoying, anyone ever tell you that?" Just like their damned brother. Dark-eyed demons, the lot of them.

  "I've heard it before. Go.” Paige nudged her toward the men. Jillian held the two plates steady and walked over to where the men were gathered.

  They stopped speaking for a moment and looked at her. Jillian decided to just get it over with. "Ari and Paige have leftovers for you, Rafe. But they are too cowardly to offer them to you. Since I'm the bravest and smallest of the lot and not related, they sacrificed me."

  "I see." He raised an eyebrow at her, and glowered down at her. Jillian fought to keep from shifting nervously.

  "Apparently I'm supposed to help you carry these across the road. You know, since you're so small and weak and helpless, of course." No one could miss the sarcasm. Jillian hadn't intended them to. Rafe smirked at her and took the top plate. She sat the smaller one directly on top of it.

  "I think I can handle it, but someone to open the doors for me so I don't drop anything would probably be nice. Think you can handle it? Or would that be too much for you?"

  "I think I'll be just fine."

  She walked with the man across the yard, to the cavernous brick and glass monstrosity that was his home.

  66

  Rafe unlocked the door to his home and guided her inside. He sat the plates on the counter and turned to his guest. "Thank you for inviting me. I guess I had to meet them sometime; this was probably the most painless method possible."

  "Like I said before, they are good people. It was a good day."

  "Congratulations, by the way. I don't think I said that before. I didn’t realize you weren’t already an RN."

  "I was only a year behind, you know. It wasn't even because of the dyslexia and dysgraphia. It was other stuff. Life stuff. I spent four months in St. Louis with Mel when she was first shot. She had only a twelve percent chance of walking again. She needed me. Carrie had just given birth to Maddie, Brynna wasn’t capable of being away from home that long, and Syd was far too young. That left me. And then… Money was tight before she was shot, and it got a lot tighter after that. I delayed a few classes and the testing until I had the cash to pay for them. I finished everything up a few weeks ago. Albright delayed me, too."

  "However you did it, it's done. And you should be proud. And make sure the change is noted by HR."

  "I'm just glad it's done. I’m ready for the next step in my life and my career. Well, I should be getting back home. Helping everyone, now that I know you safely made it across the yard…"

  He didn't want her to go. Hell, that was why he had lingered over at the Becks’ house. Not to just talk to his brother.

  Because of her. Rafe knew it was crazy. He just hadn’t been ready to say good-night to her yet.

  He’d stood there, watching her clean her damned kitchen, and had not been able to look away. The world had seemed to revolve around the redheaded she-devil for a while there. Rafe so wanted to figure out why. "I think they can do without you for a few minutes. I know you’re used to running things over there. Don't you ever take a break?""

  "I don't know what you mean." She looked up at him as he flipped on the lights to his kitchen. He kept the living room dark—it allowed a good view of the night sky, and Jillian’s house, still alight.

  "I think you know exactly what I mean."

  "Well, I think I'd better be going now."

  "I thought you were the sacrifice. Afraid?” He knew how she operated now. Stubborn pride and a clear challenge would get her to do what he wanted every single time. Probably from competing with her older sisters her entire life. Travis was the same exact way with Rafe and Marcus.

  "I don't exactly see a volcano around here. So, sorry about your luck, big guy, no tossing me in today.”

  “I was thinking you meant virgin sacrifice. I was looking forward to that.”

  “Hardly. I wouldn’t qualify for that.”

  Rafe laughed. It was the humor, the one-liners, and the grumpy little expression on her face that did it. Had him stepping closer than he should have.

  "Thank you for inviting me, and for the leftovers."

  "I should be going now." Wary brown eyes looked up at him. Before he realized he'd moved again, Rafe was in her space. He tangled his fingers in the red hair that she'd taken down. There had been far too many infants and children around and needing cuddles for her hair to stay up in the clip she'd had it in originally.

  The younger kids were fascinated with the red.

  Even Katie and Isaac had managed to get a few hugs from Jillian throughout the day. Rafe understood their fascination. It was darker red than her sisters’, and far longer. When loose, it ended a few inches above her waist. It curled gently in soft waves. Had she done it on purpose to make a man's fingers itch to touch?

  It certainly had worked with him.

  "Been nice seeing you, boss. Heading out now."

  "I thought you were the bravest?" Rafe moved closer.

  "Bravest, stupidest. What are you doing?"

  "Testing a theory." Jillian Beck had been the center of her family, without having to make waves to do it. She had been like a light for them. The one they depended on, the one they looked toward, the one that centered them all. The heart. Did she even realize that?

  For a moment, Rafe wanted to feel that heart beating against him. He dropped his fingers from her hair, and slipped one arm around her waist. The other he trailed up her spine, and tangled in the hair at the back of her neck. Gently.

  He hadn't forgotten what hell this woman had gone through. The scar on her neck would always be a reminder.

  Rafe made a point of keeping himself gentle.

  Her eyes widened and he felt the shiver go right through her.

  But she didn’t pull away.

  Rafe leaned down and brushed his lips over hers. When she didn't kick him or call him a toad, he deepened the kiss. Not too much, just enough…to give them both what they wanted.

  At first; she just stood there, and then she kissed him back. Her hands fisted on his shirt, and she clung to him.

  Her mouth turned hungry.

  The same hunger he felt.

  Rafe pulled her even closer. Until she was up on tiptoes and pressed against him.

  It still wasn't enough.

  She tasted like cake and soda and sunshine and Jillian. Perfect.

  He wrapped his hands around her waist and lifted her, putting her down on the marble kitchen island, where he could reach her more easily. He leaned in, and felt those perfect legs wrap around him.

  He didn’t know who moved next. Someone did.

  Before he even realized it, they were practically devouring each other.

  When he pulled away, they were both breathing heavily and that tiny little strap that had driven him crazy all day long had been pushed down over her elbow.

  As had the matching one on the other side.

  The blue bra was silk beneath his palms.

  How had that happened? Within seconds, he'd started kissing her, and ended up with her shirt halfway off.

  There was just too much heat between them. It burned him, burned her. That was ev
ident in the expression in those eyes of hers.

  The bra was dark blue. The flesh beneath it pale, white, and perfect. Rafe’s hand brushed her lightly, through the silk.

  She was too much for him. And he knew it.

  But before he could say anything, she yelped, hopped off the countertop, and yanked her shirt back into place. "No. Not going to happen. Not with you, not with anyone. But definitely not a man like you. You’re too much. Not right now. Especially right now. No, it's just not going to happen." Before he could say anything else or ask just what exactly about him terrified her, Jillian bolted out the still open front door and was gone.

  It was the first time he’d ever kissed a woman and sent her fleeing.

  Ever scared her quite that much. What the hell had just happened?

  Rafe stepped over to the door and closed it, but not before watching the woman run back to the sanctuary of her own home.

  Damn her; Jillian Beck just had a way of getting to him. And he had no clue what to do about that.

  67

  So much for being the bravest. Jillian kept going until she reached the entryway of her own home. She slipped inside and just kept going, until she was locked in her own bedroom. She ignored her father calling her name. And Carrie. There was no way she was going to be able to talk to any of them after what had just happened.

  She had kissed Rafael Holden-Deane, and had liked it. It was the liking part of it that she had a problem with.

  He had been an ass to her, a jerk to her best friend, and had just made things difficult for too many people that she actually liked over the last month. She had no business kissing him.

  And he was just like Houghton, and Chance, and Elliot, and Sebastian, and Travis, and Mick, and Luc—men who were so intense that they just consumed the world for the women in their lives.

  Jillian wasn’t ready for anything like that with a powerful man like that. And wouldn’t be for a very long time. She just wasn’t.

  Powerful men meant far too much risk.

  Why had he kissed her? Rafe wasn’t the type of man who did anything impulsively. She knew that. There was no way she trusted him or his motives. She doubted Rafael Holden-Deane ever did anything without thinking it through first.

  Jillian had certainly been kissed before.

  She’d drawn the attention of such men as the lieutenant governor at one point. A powerful and cold monster in man’s clothing. That was hard to forget.

  Even Tucker Barrett, Houghton's cousin who owned and ran a successful production studio out of Finley Creek, had expressed interest in her recently. Of course she had turned him down. Barratts were notoriously all-consuming with their women. Just look at Mel—Houghton was the center of Mel’s universe, and Mel liked it.

  She had turned every man down that asked her recently. Tucker Barratt, Detective Evers, Detective Erickson, Allen Jacobson, and two male nurses. Even her friend Virat Patel had casually asked her to the movies. She had turned them all down. And she knew why, too. But this?

  Rafael Holden-Deane was the last kind of man she needed in her life right now.

  She was just going to stay as far away from him as she possibly could. That was the only smart thing she could do. The safest.

  68

  Impalement.

  Jillian could handle just about anything else that came into the ER, but impalement had twigged her out since long before that day her sister had come in with a piece of rebar sticking out of her own side.

  Since that day, she just couldn’t handle seeing anything protruding from the human body.

  Tonight was going to be a long, long night.

  She ruthlessly pushed her squeamishness aside and ran the instant the first of the bus victims were brought in the doors. She had a job to do.

  And there were rumored to be fifteen more injured incoming.

  She looked to her attending, knowing Dr. Netore could handle everything that was coming their way. An announcement went over the intercom as Wanda called for all hands on deck.

  As the doors opened again behind them—and two dozen kids and their parents crowded the entrance.

  Oh, hell. It had just gotten a whole lot worse.

  She had no doubt Wanda would be calling in more reinforcements. Fast.

  As Jillian had that thought the building shook again, as the full force of the storm hit.

  Ten minutes later she was on the next patient, and every available physician was coming out of the woodwork to help.

  Someone started barking out orders at her and Annie as they worked on the bus driver. Jillian looked up, into devil dark black eyes.

  Hell. Impalement and the last man she’d kissed, both in one night.

  69

  When the COM of the hospital kisses the snot out of you, you're going to do the best you can to stay as far away from him as possible.

  Jillian wasn’t that lucky.

  The hospital cafeteria was packed, after the tour bus crash. There were a lot of people just waiting for word on their loved ones. It took her a little while to maneuver to the counter, and even longer to find a seat. There was really only one empty seat with anyone that she knew, or could intrude upon.

  Him.

  He eyed her, challengingly. She knew what he was thinking. Jillian placed her tray on the table and stared at her boss. "Is this seat taken?"

  "It is now. Sit. I see you’re a little later than usual."

  "That bus accident."

  "Yes, I'm just glad there were no serious injuries tonight. It could've been a lot worse."

  "Why are you here still? Shouldn’t you have been out of here at least an hour ago?" She refused to let herself feel concern at the strain around his eyes, or the slight paleness to his skin.

  She wouldn’t care about him. She wouldn’t.

  It was just the family connection making her concerned at all. That’s what it was. It was that, and not the fact that he seemed so alone, like he didn’t have people to care about him from day to day. He had his brothers, but they were busy with their own lives—with the other people they loved.

  Who else did Rafael Holden-Deane love?

  "Budget meetings. Every department wants a little bit more than what FCGH can afford to give. Apparently tonight was the only time Rowland could meet. The part of my job I hate the most. They all gave valid arguments. I stuck around after the crash to deal with the media. What time do you get off tonight?"

  "Nine." Hours away.

  He looked at her pointedly. "Do you have a ride?"

  "I have a father, Dr. Holden-Deane. Plus, I'm almost twenty-five years old. I can get myself home when needed."

  "Don't get defensive, it doesn't become you. Do you have a ride?" He leaned forward. Jillian fought the urge to lean backward. Just to get the man out of her space. To not notice how good the darn man smelled—much better than her stale raisin cookie on her tray.

  She knew how he smelled, and now she knew how he felt. How he tasted. Damn him. He’d just had to go and change everything.

  "Jillian?"

  "What are you going to do if I say that I don't? Come back and get me yourself? Stick around for the next four hours?"

  "If I have to."

  She hadn’t expected that response. Not at all.

  "Well, relax; not that it's any of your business, but I do have a ride. One paid for by the great Barratt-Handley Industries. You see, I have an overprotective older sister. And a brother-in-law who seems to think people may try to kidnap me someday. Not like that has happened before, of course, but Houghton takes it seriously. Any time I need a ride, all I have to do is call the company car. It shows up, drive me straight home. Or wherever else I want to go. See, I got things handled."

  "Good. A little cranky today, are we?"

  Of course she was—she’d been yelled at, puked on, peed on, and cried on repeatedly for the last four-and-a-half hours. She was ready to snap. He made a handy target. A large, muscly one who looked really good in a dark blue suit—damn him. "Som
ething like that. Why are you eating here? I have to say, FCGH doesn't exactly have the best menu options."

  "I’ll fix that eventually. Because I don't want to cook for myself all the time. I don't want to drive to Travis' and beg food off of him and Lacy. The two of them need their privacy right now."

  "I can't believe she's decided to move in with him. After what her ranch means to her… well, I just don't get it. Still, I guess it makes more sense for her to move in with him than the other way around." Travis ran a full operation that was huge from the ranch that surrounded Lacy’s home.

  "He would, if she asked him to. Because he loves her. And that's all that matters."

  "Why Dr. Holden-Deane, I think you may be a romantic underneath all that reptilian and scaly exterior. Whoever would have guessed it?"

  A hot hand landed on her knee. Jillian stilled. Why had he picked such a tiny table? He had to be crazy to touch her here. She fought a shiver.

  Damn him. He scrambled her brains completely.

  "Jillian…you keep up the snotty and I'm going to lean forward and kiss you. Right here, for everyone in the hospital to see. How do you think that would go over with the gossips?"

  "You wouldn't.” She squeaked; Jillian pulled in a deep breath and tried again in a regular voice. She would not let him see how he’d freaked her out. “You are the COM. What do you think the Board would think if you're seen kissing a lowly ER nurse? In the cafeteria, of all places? You wouldn't dare." She hated how timid and weak her voice sounded, but damn it—she didn’t think he was joking. The look in his eyes told her he meant exactly what he said.

  Didn’t he always, though? She fought a shiver as she remembered exactly how it had felt to kiss him.

  "Wouldn’t I? All anyone has to know is that you and I have known each other since before your return to the hospital. I mean, you’re best friends with my baby sister, after all. How romantic, right?” He leaned forward, one of those rare killer-sexy smiles stretching his lips for a nanosecond. Then he sobered again. “Your other sister and my sister grew up together. We are all one big happy family. Don't tempt me. You might be surprised by the results."