“So you and your brother took to that side of your father, the law official part of him rather than the farming,” she mused aloud.
Mac nodded. “Seems that way. Although my brother Ripp still likes to make things grow. And he’s good at it. Now that he has a family I wouldn’t be surprised to hear him say he’s putting away his badge and going back into farming. But me, no. That’s too mundane for me.”
She took another tiny sip from her wineglass, then placed it on the table. “So you need excitement in your life,” she said more as a statement than a question.
Shrugging, Mac wondered why her comment made him feel just a tad shallow. There wasn’t anything wrong with wanting excitement. Everyone needed a little dose of it, didn’t they? Otherwise life would be boring.
“If you want to put it that way,” he said. “I guess I’d have to say I’d rather be shot at than sit in a tractor for twelve to fourteen hours a day.”
Mac expected to see a flash of disapproval in her eyes and was surprised when he didn’t.
“We all have a different calling,” she said. “And yours is being a lawman just like mine is being a doctor. We can’t make ourselves be something we’re not.”
The waitress arrived with their salads, and while she served them, Mac wondered if Ileana was really as understanding as she seemed or if she was simply being diplomatic. Once the waitress headed off to another table, Mac said, “Being a deputy is not a macho thing with me, Ileana. I like the notion of serving the public, of helping my fellow citizens remain safe in their homes and on the streets. If that sounds corny, I can’t help it.”
Across the table, Ileana forced an interest in the crispy romaine lettuce. But that was difficult to do when all she wanted to do was gaze at him, listen to his soft drawl and watch the subtle expressions move across his features. Being with the man was intoxicating, she realized. He made her forget who she was, what she was.
“I don’t think it’s corny. I think it’s admirable. Remember, I’ve had relatives in law enforcement, too.” She forced herself to chew and swallow. “So what exactly happened to your father? He must have died a fairly young man.”
He grimaced. “Dad died when he was only fifty-six years old. He developed emphysema—a bad case. Probably from all the dust and herbicides he inhaled when he was young. That was before he could afford a tractor with a cab.”
“That’s so unfortunate,” she said. “Especially when his illness could have probably been prevented.”
“Yeah. But he did the best he could with what he had. And I admire him for that. Especially when I know he was working hard to put food on the table for his family.”
The idea of this big, strong man losing so much, hurting so much, touched Ileana deep inside. Especially when she could see that he’d had the inner strength to go on and make something worthy of himself. “I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose both parents.”
He looked across at her. “When Dad died Mom had already been gone for twenty-odd years. Ripp and I had long gotten used to not having a mother.”
Her heart winced as she tried to picture Frankie Cantrell, or any woman for that matter, deliberately leaving two sons behind. If by some wild chance Ileana ever had children, she’d make them the center of her world. Nothing and no one could separate her from them.
“So your father was farming when your mother left the family?”
Mac nodded. “My brother and I were both in high school when he became sheriff. And we thought having our dad as the sheriff was pretty neat. Until he got in a shoot-out with a bank robber and then we were scared that something would happen to him.” His face was suddenly touched with a mixture of pride and irony. “We didn’t know something else was going to happen to him and that it would have nothing to do with a bullet.”
The waitress arrived with their main courses. Ileana promptly dug into the grilled salmon on her plate, while from the thick veil of her dark lashes, she watched him slice into a rare rib eye steak.
His strong, brown hands evoked all sorts of images in Ileana’s mind, most of them so erotic that she was shocked at herself. Men had touched her body before, and though some of their touches had been pleasant, none of them had ever elicited pure desire in her, the kind that made a person lose all control, the kind that she’d felt in Mac’s kiss.
Oh, God, she prayed, don’t let me think about that. About the way she’d wanted him.
Clearing her throat, she asked, “So now it’s just you and your brother?”
“That’s right. Our father’s parents both passed away about the time Ripp and I graduated high school. Mom’s parents, the Andersons, never kept in touch. Mom never talked about them, and Dad once told us that his in-laws had disapproved of Frankie marrying him, so they’d always kept their distance. We never met them, so it’s impossible to say whether they’re still living or not.” His face grim, he sliced off another bite of beef. “I had a wife once, too. But that only lasted a couple years. Now I’m content to let my brother be a husband and father.”
The fork full of salmon she was about to put in her mouth paused in midair. “You were married once?”
A cynical grin twisted his lips. “Yes. Does that surprise you?”
Everything about him surprised her, Ileana thought. “Yes, it does. You—don’t seem the sort.”
“My ex didn’t think so in the end either,” he said wryly.
The idea that he’d once thought of one woman enough to marry her intrigued and bothered Ileana. In a fantasy world, she wanted to think Mac had never loved a woman before. That he would never love one in the future, unless that one was her. But she was a doctor, and she didn’t deal in fantasies.
“If she didn’t think you were the husband sort, then I’m curious as to why she married you,” Ileana told him.
He chuckled, but the sound didn’t hold much amusement. “Because she thought it would be fun for us to be husband and wife.”
“Fun?” Ileana parroted. “Is that all?”
“Well, I think Brenna halfway loved me until I tried to make the marriage serious. You see, she wasn’t ready for settling down and raising children, so she cut out.”
Ileana gripped her fork. “What about you? Did you love her?”
His gaze dropped evasively to his plate. “I married her when I was twenty-five because I liked her a lot and we had fun together. I thought that was enough. It was a heck of a lot more than some of my friends had. But after a while I got tired of all the going and partying. I thought if we settled down and had children that it would change both of us for the better. I thought it would make me love her and she love me. I was young and green. I didn’t really understand what marriage meant. It ended after two years.”
“Well, we all live and learn,” Ileana said. “And you seemed to realize the mistakes you’ve made, so why haven’t you ever remarried?”
A grin touched his mouth. “It would take a hell of a woman to make me go down that road again. And so far I haven’t found her.”
And he wasn’t hunting one, either, Ileana thought with a measure of foolish disappointment. Those soft, attentive looks he’d been giving her were probably practiced. If he even suspected she was thinking of him in a romantic way, he’d probably laugh himself silly. Only he’d keep his laughter inside so as not to offend her. He couldn’t afford to do that when she held the entry key to Frankie Cantrell’s room.
Feeling like an idiot for letting the man turn her head, even for a minute, she reached for her wine and took a grateful sip. Normally she never needed extra fortitude for any reason. But tonight Mac was shaking her up in ways she’d never imagined.
Lifting another bite of salmon from her plate, she said bluntly, “I know why you brought me to dinner tonight, Mac. And frankly, I should tell you that you’re wasting your time and money.”
His brows shot upward at the sudden change in her. “Really? I’m enjoying my meal. Aren’t you?”
How could he insult her even more by appea
ring so innocent? she wondered.
“The food is good,” she agreed, then her mouth twisted with sarcasm. “But you know what I’m talking about. I’m talking about your attempt at making it appear as if we’re on a date or something. And the flowers yesterday—you don’t have to do that sort of thing as a way to see Frankie. I intend to let you meet with her just as quickly as I think it’s safe for her health.”
Frowning now, he placed his fork down beside his plate. If any other woman had been saying these things to him he would probably be getting angry right about now. But this woman was different. She was like a hurt little kitten, hissing pitifully to ward away his advances.
“Look, Ileana, I don’t know what brought this on. But you have me all wrong. This meal isn’t some sort of charm tactic! It’s insulting to me that you think it is! And I gave you the flowers because I wanted to. Because I’d hoped that you would like them.”
Her head was bent, but Mac could still see the torn expression on her face. Clearly, she was fighting a war with herself as to whether to believe him, and he wondered why. True, she didn’t know him that well. But as far as he could tell, he’d not given her any reason to mistrust him. Had some man deceived her, hurt her?
“If that’s true…then it was a nice gesture,” she finally mumbled.
Mac sighed as he wondered why this woman’s feelings even mattered to him. “Ileana, have you ever been married? Or had a serious relationship?”
Her head jerked up, and she stared at him in stunned silence.
“I’m sorry if you think I’m getting too personal,” he told her. “But turnabout is fair play, isn’t it?”
Glancing down at her plate, she absently pushed her fork at a morsel of fish. “I suppose. But I don’t know why that sort of thing about me would interest you.”
Something in the middle of his chest was suddenly aching. It was an odd feeling that was totally new to him. He didn’t know why the pain was there. Only that it had something to do with the woman sitting across from him and his need to make her feel better about herself, to make her smile.
“Why? Because you think no man could be interested in you? If that’s what you’re thinking then you’re wrong,” he said softly. “I’d like to know why you’re still single.”
The corners of her mouth turned downward, and Mac could see the expression of disapproval was aimed more at herself than him.
“Why? Because I’m thirty-eight and well-off?” she asked.
“No. Because you’re a nice, lovely woman, and I can’t figure out how you’ve escaped marriage for all these years. That’s what I’m wondering.”
A splash of color suddenly painted her cheeks, and Mac found himself enchanted by her modesty. Had Brenna or any of his dates ever blushed? But then Mac had usually associated himself with bold, thick-skinned women. They were easier to handle, easier to keep at an emotional distance. He didn’t have to worry about their feelings, because there weren’t many feelings involved. Ileana’s fragility was something very new for him, and he felt like a clumsy-footed horse carefully trying to avoid stepping on a violet.
Her eyes met his, and he could see all sorts of doubts swimming in the blue depths.
“I’m sorry, Mac, if I sounded skeptical, but you see, I…well, I’m not used to getting attention from men.”
She let out a nervous little laugh, and Mac could see the color on her face deepen even more.
She went on. “I mean…your sort of attention. I’m just a doctor, and that’s the only way men ever look at me.”
“Always?” he urged.
She slowly shook her head. “Well, I’ve had a few dates when I was much younger. But none of them turned into anything lasting.”
“Did you want them to?”
A soft yearning flickered in her eyes, and Mac found himself desperately wanting to reach across the table for her hand. He wanted to fold it in his and let the pressure of his fingers tell her that he understood, that he knew what it was like to be rejected and humiliated.
“I don’t know. I never got the chance to know any of them that well. I guess I’m not exactly an exciting date. I’ve always been a little shy, and becoming a doctor took years of schooling and training. I kept myself buried in my studies and my focus on a medical career. I felt confident and at home in a chemistry lab, but at parties I was a boring clam. After I finally accepted the fact that I was different from most women, I never bothered trying to catch a guy’s attention.” She gave him a hopeless little smile. “When God passed out brains he handed me a pretty good one, but I missed out on the beauty and personality.”
“Who says?”
She shrugged, and he could tell his question embarrassed her even more. “Mac, my sister, Anna, and my mother are very beautiful women. Next to them I feel I’m lacking. But that doesn’t matter. All I’ve ever wanted to be was a doctor. And I’m good at my job. That means everything to me.”
Then why didn’t she look happy and content? he wondered. Why was he seeing sad shadows come and go in her eyes?
“You’ve never wanted a family of your own?”
She glanced away from him. “I have my moments. Especially when I see my brother and sister with their families. But I would never want to marry just for the sake of being married. I want someone to really care about me. The way my dad cares for my mom.”
When Frankie had married Owen, had she been looking for that same sort of love? During those years as a young boy, Mac had always thought of his mother as being kind, gentle and loving. She’d never raised her voice to her boys or her husband. But apparently she’d been unhappy. Had Owen not loved Frankie enough? Or had she simply not wanted to raise two rowdy boys? To Mac, either choice was not a pretty one.
Suddenly he couldn’t stop himself from reaching across the table and folding his fingers around hers. “Ileana, beauty comes in all shapes and sizes. And I think those guys you dated needed eyeglasses.”
Her cheeks were rose-colored as she demurely lifted her gaze to his and gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you for saying that, Mac.”
Mac forked the last bite of steak to his lips while wondering what in hell was coming over him. It wasn’t like him to be so protective of a woman’s feelings. It wasn’t like him to be so open and honest with a lady just because he had her out to dinner. Yet, he’d been telling her the truth when he’d said he had no agenda behind asking her out this evening. At least, not the sort of agenda she was thinking. He knew that Ileana was point-blank honest. If she said she would allow him to see Frankie soon, then she would. He didn’t doubt that. And he wasn’t trying to charm her into moving the meeting date forward. So what was he doing having dinner with her tonight?
Face it, Mac. You like the woman. She’s soft and gentle and doesn’t grate on your nerves. She knows how to have a conversation. And there’s something about the fresh loveliness of her face that gets you, that makes you dream of quiet nights with her lips whispering in your ear, kissing you with love.
From out of nowhere he felt his throat tighten, making his reply little more than a husky murmur. “You’re very welcome, Ileana.”
Later, after coffee and dessert, Mac drove the two of them off the mountain and back through town to where Ileana had left her truck in the hospital parking lot.As they traveled through the sparse traffic, Ileana was completely amazed at herself. For the life of her, she couldn’t figure out what had made her open up to Mac like she had. Why had she admitted to him that she’d always been a shy geek, that she wouldn’t be able to turn a man’s head even if she had him hobbled and bridled?
But, oh, God, the answers to those questions were nothing compared to the feelings rushing through her at the moment, the wild excitement bubbling just beneath the surface of her veins. She could feel her body longing for the touch of his hands, her lips aching to press themselves against his. This had never happened to her before, and she didn’t know what to do, how to make it all stop or even if she should try to make it stop.
By the time they reached her truck, which was parked in one of the slots allotted for physicians, the parking lot was mostly deserted. Mac pulled up alongside her Ford, then cut the motor.
In spite of the wine she’d had with dinner, her heart suddenly started to pound.
“There’s no need for you to wait around to see if my truck starts. It never fails. Besides, I can always find a maintenance man inside the hospital to help me.”
Resting his arm along the back of the seat, he turned toward her. Streetlamps shed dim light inside the cab and caused shadows to slant across his strong face. She couldn’t see exactly where his hand was lying, but she could feel its presence near her shoulder. The idea that he was so close to touching her left her feeling faint and foolish at the same time.
“I’m not worried about your truck. I only want to make sure you know how much I enjoyed this evening,” he said.
Ruidoso hadn’t seen a warm day in months, yet everything inside Ileana was melting as though he’d just yanked her into bright sunshine.
“I’m glad,” she admitted softly. “I enjoyed it, too.”
His dark eyes continued to roam her face, and Ileana unconsciously licked her lips.
“I don’t suppose you’re planning on stopping by your parents’ house this evening,” he said.
Her neck felt stiff as she wagged her head back and forth. “No. I have several charts to update before I head back to work tomorrow morning.”
He grimaced. “Don’t you have someone to do that for you?”
Ileana had never thought she suffered from claustrophobia, but the walls of the truck cab seemed to be shrinking around the two of them. His spicy scent was filling her head, his nearness making her breathing erratic.
A Texan on Her Doorstep Page 8