And wasn’t that exactly what she’d asked him to do again for her? Protect her. Shield her. Keep her safe. Would she always look to him as her tower of strength? What would happen when the day came—and she was positive it would—that she needed his quiet presence again to ground her, to stabilize the craziness?
“We’re here. Let’s go slay some dragons.”
Risa laid her hand on his arm before he could slide from the car. “Did I ever thank you for being my deb escort?”
His heart jumped at her touch. His brain, however, was confused. “What? Your deb thing, like a million years ago?”
“Yeah. That. I don’t know if I ever told you how much I appreciated all you did, all you had to endure. I know some of those outings were beyond boring, but you were such a good sport. You always knew how to make me relax and smile.”
“Why would you bring that up now at…” he checked the time, “five-thirty in the morning?”
“I don’t know. You know how my brain works. I think of one thing, that leads to another thing and another and before you know it, I’m reliving the dreaded Texas dip.”
“Ah. The dip. The requirement to basically twist yourself in to a pretzel while lowering yourself to the floor in some act of degrading debasement.” He laughed, so she’d believe he was kidding, but he wasn’t. He’d never thought Risa should bow to anyone.
She slapped his arm playfully. “You’re horrible. The Texas dip is…is…okay, well, maybe it does twist a gal around a bit. Anyway, thank you.”
“My pleasure. Any time spent with you is the highlight of my day. Now, get a move on.”
As soon as they entered the studio, a program assistant whisked Risa away. He didn’t follow, but he didn’t let her out of his sight either. That conversation in the car still baffled him. After all these years, why bring up her debutante days? He’d been incredibly relieved that she’d never known how strapped for money he’d been back then and that most of his clothes had been borrowed or bought at secondhand shops. Being around all the rich snobs—which did not include the McCool family—they were as down-to-earth as anyone could be.—had left him antsy and worried that someone would notice or comment on his clothing. No one had. It wasn’t until years later that he’d realized no one had given his clothes a second glance because they’d been more concerned about how they looked or what others thought of them.
Now, he watched as an assistant placed a lapel mic on Risa’s jacket and then trailed the wire pack down her side and around to her back. Trevor leaned against a wall and soaked in the view of the ideal woman. Calm. Collected. Completely at ease in any environment. The camera came on, and the interview began. Risa hit every question with facts and heart-stopping smiles. Since he was behind the camera, he could see what was being broadcast and she was made for primetime. The camera loved her.
With the interview completed, her face glowed as she walked toward him. “Whew. One down, ten to go. Did I sound like a rube?”
He flung his arm around her shoulders. “You did great. So calm and poised. People are going to be begging for last minute tickets.”
“Oh!” She looked up at him. “There aren’t any tickets left. We’ve been sold out for months.”
“Well, that’s good news. Next stop, Big D magazine. Let’s go dazzle them with your brilliance.”
“Or baffle ’em with my bullshit,” she said, completing the infamous phrase.
Laughing, he opened the door for her.
At the magazine’s offices, he sat in a corner and drank a cup of coffee as Risa answered questions about breast cancer and the gala set for the weekend. At both interviews, she’d been coy when answering questions about the mysterious Breast Cancer Diamond. She swore she hadn’t even seen it yet, and that the jewelry designer would only provide the drawing. The unveiling would occur Saturday night at the gala fundraiser.
He knew Risa well. She’d gotten better at her lying, but he was sure only he realized it. She was good, but his BS detector was strong. She not only knew the exact carat count of that diamond, but the exact cut and style of the necklace.
He didn’t know a whole lot more than the general public about the stone. Discovered a couple of years ago at the famous Argyle Diamond Mine in northwest Australia, after final cutting, the stone weighed fourteen carats. The value of the stone could only be estimated since the sale had been made to a private collector and the terms of the deal had been held in confidence. An estimation of the stone valued it at between eight-hundred-thousand and one million dollars per carat. That was some serious jack.
And the thing that ate at his craw was that she could afford to buy the damn stone for herself, but it was completely out of his reach, financially. She would always be able to give herself whatever she wanted.
Trevor was a modern man. One-hundred-percent in agreement with equal rights and equality of the sexes. He was actually proud of everything she’d accomplished, especially knowing that she and her sister could have chosen to follow the idle, carefree lifestyle of the very wealthy. Instead, she’d dedicated her life to service.
No, what bugged the crap out of him was the same stone bruise he’d had as a teen. He would always be financially limited in what he could provide her. There was nothing she couldn’t get on her own.
Glancing to the back of the room where the interview was winding down, he watched as she laughed at something the reporter said. The shine of her eyes, the tilt of her lips, and sound of her laughter stirred areas inside him no other woman had ever touched, and he doubted ever would.
Chapter Five
When Trevor had first reviewed Risa’s speaking schedule for Wednesday, he’d thought her quite smart to have built in a lunch engagement, killing two birds with one stone, so to speak. However, now as he sat at a table near the back of the meeting room for the local civics club, he changed his mind. Risa had been placed at a table with seven men, each one battling for a private word, or more, with her. And she did not disappoint. She moved salad around in her bowl as she spoke with the man to her left. Then, she shifted the entrée around on the plate while answering more questions than he would have had patience for. Through it all, she smiled and nodded and thoroughly charmed the men at her table to the point they seemed reluctant to allow her to leave her seat and begin her speech. However, at last, she rose and strode confidently to the podium.
He leaned back in his chair and watched her work her magic with the crowd. Her talk was basically the same one she’d given everywhere they’d stopped, except speaking to a live audience made her more alive, more animated. Her face glowed with excitement when she spoke about cancer trials and positive results. The sparkle in her eyes appeared as though a million fireflies were shining from inside. She gestured in concert with the words, making it appear she was directing a complicated sonata. She had the men and women, those community leaders, in the palm of her beautiful hand. He bet she could have sold a bunch of tickets to that Saturday event, had there been any available.
Once finished with the luncheon appointment and back in his SUV, she slumped against the door with a long sigh.
He shot her a quick glance as he signaled to make a turn. “You doing okay?”
She rolled her face toward him without lifting her head. “Sure. Just…I don’t know…tired of using my words today.”
“Adulting is so hard, right?”
She laughed. “Totally.”
“How much of that lunch actually transferred from the plate into your mouth?”
One corner of her mouth quirked up. “Some.”
“Some? Or very little?”
“You were watching me.” The tension around her eyes relaxed. He never gave a woman’s world much thought, but it made sense that knowing someone was watching out for her would be comforting.
“Of course, I was. That’s what I was hired to do.”
And while that statement was true, he also knew that his gaze would be on her any time they were in the same room. She drew him. After all th
ese years, she still fascinated him. Unfortunately, the time apart hadn’t really resolved the issue that had separated them.
Her gaze shifted back to the road. “True. We’ve got a couple of hours before we need to be at the radio station. Would you mind if we ran by my office so I can see what’s been piled on my desk so far?”
He wrapped his hand around the back of her neck. “You’re the boss.” He gave her neck a gentle squeeze. “Wow. You’re tense, babe.”
“Tired. There’s a difference.’ She raised a hand to point. “Turn at the upcoming light and head to my office, okay?”
“No problem.” He turned and followed her directions to a complex of medical buildings. After parking in the sport reserved for her, they took the elevators up to the second floor.
Making their way down to her office involved numerous pauses for accolades on the morning program and promises to listen to her live radio interview during the drive home.
She pointed toward a small kitchen break area. “You can wait in there.”
He smiled. “Sweetheart, where you go, I go. Lead on.”
Her shoulders slumped with a sigh. “But my office is a mess.”
Picturing her immaculate home, he scoffed. “What? A piece of paper out of place? Go on. I’m sure I can find somewhere to sit.”
“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
To say her office was a mess would be akin to noting that bombs had a tendency to move things around. On second glance, he wondered if some type of bomb had gone off. Files and papers covered the top of the desk, type of wood unknown because it couldn’t be seen. Row after row of books filled the shelves, along with dozens of pictures of Risa with various dignitaries. Trevor had thought he’d become quite jaded, but damn! Once again, he was impressed, and maybe even a little intimidated by how much she’d accomplished and how much more he knew she’d do through her lifetime. Among all the celebrity photos were pictures of Risa with women, most without hair but wearing huge smiles.
“Those were patients,” she said softly.
He turned toward her. “Were?”
“Yeah. Most of them.” A weary sigh escaped. “I keep those around to remind myself why I do this, why I’ve sacrificed so much for my career.” She leaned back in her chair. “See the one in the yellow blouse?”
He nodded.
“Rhonda Compton. Twenty-eight. No family history of any type of cancer. By the time her breast cancer was detected, it had metastasized to her liver and brain. She fought so hard but only lasted about six months. Left behind two young sons and a devastated husband.” She rose and walked to stand beside him. “This patient was one of the lucky ones.” She pointed to a thin woman in a bright blue blouse. “We caught her cancer so early that we killed it with chemo and a lumpectomy. She’s about three years clear now and I don’t expect to see her again, or at least not for the same cancer.”
“How do you remember all them?” He put an arm around her, and she leaned into his side, letting him hold her.
“I don’t remember them all. Some come in and are back home so fast, I can barely remember their names.”
“The lucky ones,” he ventured.
“Yeah. Then there are the ones like Rhonda.” She picked up the picture of the first patient she’d talked about. “These make me so mad, I’m even more determined to fight. I’ll find better ways to destroy these cancers before they take people who are just too young to die.” She set the picture on the shelf. “I’m ready to go if you are. There’s nothing here that can’t wait until Monday.” She stepped from his embrace and walked back to her desk. He lowered his arm to his side missing the feel of her touching him, of her scent filling his senses.
“I’m ready when you are. I’ll check in with my office later.”
The drive-time talk radio show went much like the earlier three events. When it was done, he realized how wan her face looked. At first, he blamed it on the harsh lighting but when the environmental lighting changed, her paleness remained.
“You need to eat,” Trevor said. Taking her hand, he led her toward the car. “You look like you’re about to collapse.”
“I’m just tired. After a good night’s sleep, I’ll be as good as new.”
“I have a better idea. Dinner first and then I’m tucking you in bed.”
She stopped and turned to look at him. “Exactly what are you proposing?”
Risa’s heart lodged inside her throat. Was he finally putting his cards on the table and asking her to go to bed with him?
If so, what should she say?
He arched a brow. “Dinner and then we go back to your place, where I will make sure you’re in bed so you’ll get a good night’s rest.”
Disappointment settled thick in her belly. Even though she didn’t want to admit it, she was exhausted, but she knew an evening in bed with Trevor would wake her up. Too bad he wasn’t thinking along the same lines.
“What are you hungry for?” he asked.
You.
That’s what she should have said. Instead, she replied, “I’m sure there’s a casserole in the freezer at my place. We can nuke something there. Besides, I’m not really hungry.”
Once they were inside her penthouse, Trevor had a few words with Sue, who waved and left.
Risa kicked off her shoes and dropped onto the sofa. “I don’t think I can move.”
Trevor took the chair closest to her. “You were very impressive today, Dr. McCool.”
Turning her head toward him, she smiled. “Thank you. I have to be honest. I’ve enjoyed having you around today, but I’m embarrassed that I think I probably overreacted to this week.”
“How so?”
“As you pointed out, my building is super secure. No one can steal anything, plus the Breast Cancer Diamond necklace isn’t even here. I feel stupid making you stay here at night.”
Trevor leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. His gaze was steady. “Are you asking me to leave?”
Her stomach quivered at the deep, serious tone of his voice. “I’m not sure what I’m asking.”
“I’m not leaving, Risa. I’m here to stay.”
She wasn’t sure exactly what he was saying. Was he here, as in her apartment? Or here, as in her life? She was too much of a wuss to ask.
They finally settled on a chicken casserole, salad and hot rolls for dinner. She moaned as she swallowed the last bite.
“Man, I didn’t think I was hungry until I took that first bite. I need to remember to mark this casserole down for the future.” She set her fork in her plate. “Why don’t you go to the living room while I put these dishes away.”
He stood and picked up his plate. “Give me yours. I wanted to go brew a fresh cup of coffee anyway.” After stacking her plate on top of his, he headed to the kitchen, Risa on his heels.
“Coffee? At this hour? Won’t the caffeine keep you awake?”
“Nope.” He put a coffee pod into the brewer and pushed start. “You want a cup?”
“Too late for me.” She refilled her wine glass then leaned against the counter and watched him. When he bent over to stand the plates in the dishwasher, his pants pulled tight across his rear. Her gaze fastened on his firm butt, and her hands itched to touch it. She had the same reaction to his muscles flexing under his shirt. Her mouth watered at the vision. As a boy, he’d been cute, but as a man, he was devastatingly handsome.
“Okay, that’s it.” He collected his coffee and turned toward her. “You okay? You have an odd expression on your face.”
She gulped down a splash of wine. “Oh yeah. I’m great.”
They carried their drinks to the living room and took positions at each end of the sofa.
Risa propped her feet on the cushion beside her. “My shoes were little torture devices today.”
“But they looked good, right?”
She grinned. “Right.”
He scooted down until her feet were in his lap. “I bet I can help.” Using his thumbs, he dug
into the arch of her right foot, pressing and rubbing at the knots there.
She groaned. “Oh, damn. That feels so good.”
“You relax, and let me see if I can help.”
He massaged both feet, working the stiffness and soreness from muscles and tendons that weren’t used to being shoved into high heeled shoes for hours. As each minute passed, Risa’s body relaxed and melted more into the softness of her sofa. Her eyes fluttered shut as she soaked in the feel of his hands on her again after so many years.
Then, his fingers were on her ankles, moving in sensual circles around and around as he moved his hands higher on her legs. He worked on the tension in her calves, his thumbs diving deep into her flesh and the tightness there. Her legs grew limp and heavy under his relentless rubdown. She widened the space between her legs and he wasted no time moving his hands further up her legs to her knees, and then her thighs.
Her sex grew heavy. Moisture dampened her panties.
“Risa. I’m going to kiss you. Stop me now if you don’t want me to.”
When she opened her eyes, her gaze met his. His eyes were hooded and dark with lust. His lips were only millimeters from her mouth. She lifted her hand and threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled him toward her. As their lips met, her eyelids closed, the sensation of his taste overwhelming every sense.
His fingers stroked up and down her neck as he took the kiss deeper and wetter. A low groan vibrated in his chest.
She widened her legs again to allow his body between her thighs, and then she wrapped her legs around him. Hard, rigid flesh pressed against her center. Her hips arched against him and then ground firmly against his cock.
He glided his mouth off her lips, leaving kiss after kiss along her cheeks, her jawbone, and then down her neck. She tossed back her head to give him more access to her neck, to anything he wanted. She skated her hands down his back to his ass—the firm, round ass she’d admired in the kitchen. Those hard glutes felt as good as they’d looked.
Through the shifting and arching of her hips, her skirt had worked its way up until it barely covered her panties. He shoved the linen material out of the way. His fingers danced along the damp silk of her underwear, rubbing and pushing the sodden crotch between the seam of her sex. One finger worked the satiny material into her opening. She moaned and hunched against his hand, so engaged in lust she could barely think.
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