She turned off the shower and dried herself, ignoring her body's needs. Was having a man in the house going to have this effect on her every morning, and where had this come from anyway? Why was she feeling deliciously feminine and having erotic thoughts and urges now, when she hadn’t had them since her husband passed away?
Why today?
The answer was obvious, but she ignored it. She swiftly dressed in her “professor” clothes--a knee length skirt with a flirty hemline and a light blue sweater set.
Her hair needed very little work, and in mere minutes she’d applied light makeup. Now she was ready to face Ryan and enjoy the coffee.
“Good morning,” she called out as she entered the kitchen. Ryan was sitting at the table, long tanned legs stretched out, coffee mug in hand, looking perfectly at home.
“G'day,” he said, and it sounded more like “good die” with his Aussie accent. “I was just finishing up the last cup of coffee. I made it an hour ago. You get up late around here.”
He was wearing a pair of jogging shorts, no shirt, and was unshaven, his hair tousled from sleep. Obviously, he hadn’t felt the need to clean up before seeing her. And why the hell did it make him look sexy, she wanted to know.
“I was up and smelled the coffee, but wanted to shower.” Leila gritted her teeth, feeling annoyed and not knowing why. She tossed out the grounds and started a fresh pot. “Is Callie up yet?”
“I haven’t seen her.”
“I’ll go wake her. She needs to leave for her dialysis session in less than an hour. You sure you don’t mind taking her?”
“Not at all. Got nothing better to do than to spend a fine morning with my niece.” He stretched and yawned, and she tried not to stare at his chest.
“Right.” She started toward the stairs, but he stopped her.
“I’ve got to shower. I’ll wake her if that’s okay with you.”
“Sure. I’ll get breakfast on.” Leila tapped her toe, waiting for the coffee to brew. Breakfast was usually cereal and fruit the mornings Callie had dialysis, but she'd promised Ryan the best breakfast in town. What would he like? Was he the pancake type, or protein?
She heard him talking to Callie and then the sound of the upstairs shower. She tried very hard not to think of him standing under the warm water, naked, rubbing soap all over his...
She grabbed the coffee pot before the coffee was done and poured herself a mugful, hoping the hot, strong brew would clear her head. She'd just had her first sip when Callie came down the stairs. Eyes half-closed, dark circles under them, she looked as though she hadn’t had much sleep.
“Hi, honey. You ready for your session this morning?”
“Oh, yeah. I can hardly wait.”
Leila bit her lip. She knew how awful it was, and how Callie hated every minute of it, but with any luck she would only have to go a few more times. Then it all would be over.
“I’m going to call the doctor when his office opens at eight and give him the good news about Ryan. I’ll try to get a consultation for this afternoon.”
“Good,” she said, and flopped down in a chair. “I’m getting kinda tired of this.”
“I know, baby. It’ll be over soon.”
“I like Uncle Ryan. Do you?”
“Very much. He’s going to become my next favorite person, right after you.”
Callie perked up. “Wait ‘til Grandma and Gramps know he’s here. Won’t they be excited!”
“They can’t know, honey. He doesn’t want them to know. He made that very clear to me.”
“Why?” The smile left her young face and her thin shoulders drooped.
“I’m not sure what happened between him and his family, and it’s not for us to question.” Leila put a glass of orange juice in front of her daughter. “This is his decision and we have to respect that.”
Callie frowned. “Okay," she said doubtfully, "but how can I keep this a secret from them? They would want to know he was here, and they’d be so happy to see him again.”
Ryan entered the kitchen in time to hear Callie's last words. His face looked grim. “They are dead to me.” He stared straight at Callie. “Don’t mention my name when you speak to them. Please.”
“I won’t,” she said in a subdued voice. “Not if it means that much to you.”
“It does, and that’s the last I want to speak of it.”
“Okay.” Callie got herself a bowl of cereal and refused to look at him. Leila could tell she was near tears.
She sidled up to Ryan and murmured, “You could have been a little nicer to her. She’s upset.”
“So am I. And none of you want to see me when I really get mad.”
She looked at him and stepped away. From the fierce look in his eyes, she knew she never wanted to get on the wrong side of this man. He hadn’t been disowned by his loved ones because of his pleasant personality. Obviously there was another side to him, and she’d prefer never to witness it firsthand.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Leila taught two courses a semester, about three or four hours in the classroom a week. She had both undergrads and graduate students to advise, as well as Independent Study students too, who would come to her with a particular project in mind.
She had two classes that day, one at nine and another at eleven, and in the first class it was all she could do to stay focused on the topic. Her mind kept wandering back to Ryan. As she was giving her lecture, she could see the brilliant young minds in front of her shutting down, as one by one the students started to yawn.
Not that she blamed them. She was putting herself to sleep too. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy the subject, but she had so much going on in her present-day life, that it was hard to act enthused. She couldn’t expect the class to either.
The lecture courses included small discussion groups with weekly meetings, and she had office hours when students could meet with her. That was not a hardship, since she loved meeting these bright, intelligent young people who were so passionate about their beliefs and so eager to learn.
The only drawback was the office hours sometimes went longer than expected and took away from the time she could spend with Callie. It was all a balancing act, but more often than not she felt guilty for enjoying her job so much. There were times during particularly busy days when she could completely forget about her daughter’s sickness and all of her other troubles.
Today was not going to be that kind of day. Aside from the two morning classes, she had office hours from one to five, hours that she would have to cancel. She was almost glad for that, because she knew it would be hard to interact with the students and speak intelligently and with enthusiasm, when all she wanted to do was be with her child. She wanted to know what Ryan was doing and thinking as he watched Callie that morning. She tried not to fret, but what would they do if he got cold feet?
Right after the nine o'clock class she tracked down John Harvey, the head of the English department, to tell him that she wouldn’t be able to meet with her students that afternoon.
“I’m sorry I didn't give you more advanced notice, but I didn’t know myself until last night. Callie’s uncle has arrived from Australia and is a donor match.” She took a steadying breath, and spoke more slowly. “We're meeting this afternoon with the doctor who’ll head up the transplant team. We hope to have the transplant done within the next week or two.”
“Of course," Professor Harvey said, "I perfectly understand. We will find a way to manage without you, because we must.” He smiled at her. “I’m delighted for both of you, and wish you the best of luck.”
“Thank you, John. I should be able to stick to my regular schedule until the day of the transplant, but I’ll need to take some personal time for the surgery and a few days after that."
"Don’t worry about anything, Leila. And take as long as you need.” He looked at her kindly. “I was very impressed with you last year, and I know you’ll knock yourself out once Callie is better.”
Leila walked
out of his office, feeling like she might be the luckiest woman in the world. A few days ago, her daughter was slowly dying and now she had a chance to be completely well again. And Leila had without a doubt the best job in the world. Life hadn’t been this good in as long as she could remember.
In her own small office she went over her notes for her eleven o'clock class, and then called Ryan's cell phone. “How’s it going?” she asked, picturing him sitting in a chair next to Callie. The four-hour ordeal had always been awful for her, emotionally invested as she was. There was nothing she wouldn’t have done to change places with her daughter. What was Ryan feeling?
“It’s going great. We’ve been playing cards. I’m teaching her gin rummy.”
She laughed, delighted. “You are? Well, I’m not sure that her teachers would approve, but I say, good on you. Callie deserves a break, and her grades have never been a problem.”
“I’m sure. She’s a bright girl. She’s already up three dollars.”
“You’re playing for money? You're teaching my baby to gamble?” Leila pretended indignation, but actually she was amused.
“I’m contributing to her retirement fund. The girl’s a shark, I tell you.”
“Speaking of sharks… I've been meaning to ask you if everything's all right with your business. I know you left in a hurry."
“Not to worry. I just dumped everything into my partner’s lap. He can handle most things, and he knows how to reach me if an emergency comes up.”
“I’m so glad. From what I could see, your crew seems very capable. I hope so anyway,” she told him honestly. “I don’t want you flying back for some emergency.”
“Me neither. But it would take a tsunami to make me leave Callie in a lurch.”
Her hand tightened on the phone as sudden fear gripped her. “You wouldn’t, would you? I mean, I don’t care what kind of catastrophe or natural disaster strikes, you couldn’t disappoint Callie now. It would break her heart.”
“Don’t worry, I’m not about to.” He chuckled. “You know what? I think you worry too much, and then you make up things to worry about.”
“I don’t. Do I?” She frowned. “It’s just that I love her so much and don’t know what I’d do without her. Sometimes it gets little overwhelming.”
“I know. Hopefully your problems will soon be over.”
“I wish Nick could see you now. He’d be so proud of you.”
“I imagine he’s looking on.” Ryan changed the subject. “So did you get me an appointment?”
“Yes, that was the real reason behind the call. It’s at three.”
“Good. I’ll drop Callie off at school and go back to your place. Do you want to meet me there?"
“Yes. I should be wrapped up here around one and be home by about half past.”
“I’ll be starving by then. Pick me up and I’ll buy lunch.”
“That’s not necessary.”
“Okay. You buy lunch.” He laughed and hung up.
She was still smiling as she walked to class. She was looking forward to seeing Ryan again in little more than two hours, and why she felt that little glow was one thing she was not going to worry about.
***
Ryan had worn jeans and a T-shirt to the hospital, but he wanted to look more respectable when he spoke to the doctors and changed into khakis and a white shirt. He wasn’t the spiffiest dresser in the world, but at least his clothes were always clean and pressed.
He had a half hour to kill before Leila got home. He sat down in the kitchen nook, but almost immediately the hairs on the back of his neck prickled. The countertop was strewn with newspapers, empty coffee mugs and other dishes, a cereal box, the toaster and coffee maker, a spice rack, a set of knifes, and other various kitchen essentials. It wasn't exactly a pigsty, but it was way too cluttered for his taste. He might as well put his downtime to good use. He found space in two cupboards for the toaster and other paraphernalia, put the cereal back in the pantry, tossed the papers in the recycling bin, put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher, and cleaned the counter.
Then he sat down to wait for Leila.
She swept in fifteen minutes later and looked at him with an expression of pleased surprise. “You look nice,” she said.
“Thanks.” He was glad he’d taken a moment to shave. He was no longer the beach-bum, but back into city mode.
She glanced behind him and her smile faded. “What did you do with my kitchen?”
“I put a few things away.”
“Why?”
“Because your counter had no counter space. You had too much stuff on it.”
“I liked it the way it was. It was functional, not looking as though it was ready for a photo shoot.” She put a hand on her hip and glared at him. “Where did you put my toaster?”
“Where it belongs. In a cupboard.”
She marched into the kitchen and spun around. “Which one?”
With a forced smile, he flung the door open. “Tada! Coffee maker, toaster, what-have-you. It’s all there within easy reach.”
“How long did you say you were staying?” She wasn’t laughing when she said it, and he wondered what bug had crawled up her ass.
“As long as it takes to get this effing kidney out of me.”
“No need to swear,” she said swiftly.
“I didn’t.” Now he was getting ticked off.
She took a deep breath and released it slowly. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m in a bad mood, but I ran into one of my students as I was leaving, and she really wanted to talk to me, and I hated brushing her off but I had to. School just started and I was trying really hard to make myself available to the students and help the freshmen settle in. I really wanted to be there for them, and now I won’t be.”
“You’re only taking a few days off. Don’t be so hard on yourself.” He lifted her chin and looked into her beautiful eyes. “You’re doing the best you can.”
“Am I?” She bit her bottom lip, a habit he was getting used to. It made her look young and unsure of herself, and he liked that side of her. Sometimes she came across as sophisticated, even standoffish, and he was glad to see she was vulnerable too.
Like he was. He didn’t have all the answers, that was for sure. Nick had been the clever one, the one who knew early on what he was going to do with his life and how to get there.
Funny thing was, Nick was not where he expected to be, and Ryan sure in hell wasn’t either. Never in his dreams of the future had he seen himself standing next to Nick’s widow, fighting the urge to pull her into his arms and give her the comfort she desperately needed.
He might not know a lot of things, but he did know women. And Leila was living on the edge. She was stressed to the max, and her emotions were all over the place. Kind of like her messy kitchen, she didn’t put things away as she should. She still longed for a man who wasn’t coming back, instead of letting go and moving on. And she was carrying all the worries about her daughter around her like a suffocating coat. On top of that she had a home to worry about, her job, and her mother. Who worried about her? Who gave her the loving she needed? ‘Cause one thing was for damn sure--she was a woman who needed to be loved.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Leila and Ryan grabbed a bite to eat in Palmer Square before his appointment with the transplant specialists. While Ryan gave them his complete medical history and received a physical, she used the time to make a few phone calls and do some planning for her next class.
When Ryan returned, he told her he needed to come back in the morning for a series of lab and x-ray tests, as well as an EKG. “Once I’m done with that, I also need a CT angiogram, which they’ll set up for the following day.”
“I didn’t realize it would require so many tests on your part. Did you?”
“I talked about it with a nurse in Australia and she pretty much explained what I’d have to do.”
“How long will all this take?” she asked, still terribly afraid that something might go
wrong. If she had her way the two of them would be in surgery this very minute, but of course that could not be. “When do they think they can do the transplant?”
“The doctor said, barring no problem, it could take place next week.” He gave her two thumbs up. “I won’t let anything happen, Leila. Callie’s getting this kidney.”
Leila felt as if the weight of the world had slid off her shoulders. She trusted that he would do everything in his power to make this happen, and having him on her side made it so much easier. She was no longer alone.
As soon as they left the office, she looked at Ryan and grinned. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve got to hug you right now.”
He laughed. “I’ll try not to mind too much. Just take it easy with this gratitude thing.”
She shook her head as tears pricked her eyes. “No way. You’re getting a lifetime’s supply of gratitude from me.” She put her arms around him, leaning her head against his chest. “I’m so happy, I want to cry.”
He patted her head. “That’s okay. Shed those tears. You’ve held them inside long enough.”
“I don’t want to wet your shirt.”
“I’ve got another.” He tilted her head up and used a thumb to wipe away a tear. “You’re pretty when you cry.”
“No woman is pretty when she cries. Especially not me.”
He dropped a kiss on her forehead. “You’re wrong about that.”
The world seemed to stop as he stared down at her, and she suddenly had trouble breathing. Why did he have this effect on her? One look into his eyes and she wanted. . .wanted things from him she shouldn’t. He was Nick’s brother. Maybe it was only gratitude, but she wanted his kisses, wanted to feel his arms around her. The thought of being held by him was so overpowering, she swayed a little.
“Come on," he said, finally looking away from her. "Let’s go outside. I think you need a little fresh air.” He put an arm around her back and guided her out to her car in the parking lot. “Want me to drive?”
“No, I’ll be all right. I’m just feeling a little overly emotional, that’s all.”
“You have every right to be.” He opened the door for her, but she didn’t get in. She turned to him instead.
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE TRILOGY Page 11