by Donna Fasano
“Is everything all right?” She glanced around as if she feared trouble was close at hand.
Her vulnerability affected him. Deeply. Surprisingly. And he felt compelled to assure her. “Everything’s fine, Lyssa. I hope I’m not bothering you. But I just have to talk.”
He felt more than a little awkward about barging into her home, but he’d come to discuss a matter of the most personal nature. A matter he didn’t want overheard by his receptionist, his patients, or anyone else for that matter.
“Come in,” she told him, holding the door open for him.
The tiny, sparsely furnished living room housed a love seat and a matching chair, one side table and a lamp. The kitchenette was clean, the counters clear. No knickknacks cluttered the surfaces, and Dakota didn’t know if that was because she preferred things that way, or if she couldn’t afford the luxuries of ornamental accessories, or if she wished to keep her life uncomplicated just in case she needed to move on in a hurry.
He hoped her home was decorated the way it was because she liked her life neat and tidy, but he highly suspected that one of the other reasons was probably the cause. Dakota couldn’t help but note the sad tone that seemed to hum in the room. A lonely, almost depressing air. And that stunned him because the Lyssa he’d come to know over the past couple of weeks was very positive and upbeat.
“Can I offer you something?” she asked. “A glass of iced tea?”
“Nothing, thanks,” he said. Then he was again stricken with an overwhelming nervousness as he wondered how she’d react to what he was about to suggest. He stuffed his hands deep into his trouser pockets.
When he didn’t speak and was unable to meet her eyes, she asked, “Is there something wrong with my work? You’re not here to fire me, are you? I’m terribly sorry if I’ve done something—”
“No, no.” He shook his head, the frantic quality in her voice making his gaze shoot to hers. “It’s not that at all. I’m happy with your work. You’re a very capable nurse. A terrific benefit to my staff. I mean that. I do.”
She needed this job, he knew that. And he needed her in it, so he was more than happy to appease her anxiety. What had him on edge was how he should go about proposing his radical idea to her.
Proposing. What an interesting choice of verbs his subconscious had produced.
“I’m here,” he began, “because of something you said to me today.”
Apparently, the compliments he’d offered on her talents as a nurse hadn’t completely alleviated her apprehension.
“I sure didn’t mean to say anything to upset you.” There it was again. That self-blaming regret in her words, in her posture. Lyssa apologized much too often. However, his curiosity regarding why that might be was overridden by the task at hand.
“You didn’t upset me,” he rushed to add, wanting to set her mind at rest. He tried again, “But what you said today at the office did, um, have a great impact on me.” Again, nerves had him going silent.
Worry tensed her expression. “Doctor Dakota, it’s obvious that I’ve troubled you in some way, and I do apologize—”
He cut her off with a firm shake of his head. Then he heaved a sigh. “It’s not you. It’s me. I’m not going at this very well.” He offered a quirky smile in an effort to let her know all was well.
Finally, she eased down onto the chair and said, “Maybe you should sit down and tell me what it was I said that has you so rattled.”
His smile widened and eased. Yes. He should sit, relax, and reveal his idea.
Once he was settled on the love seat, he inched to the edge and rested his elbows on his knees. “You told me today that I should take myself off the market.”
Surprise rounded her eyes attractively. He didn’t want to think of Lyssa as appealing. Heck, with his track record, he didn’t want to think of any woman as alluring. But he’d be lying to himself if he said Lyssa Palmer wasn’t anything other than what she was… striking.
Then her wide, full mouth pulled back in a smile. “Yes, but I was joking when I said that. I was serious about you taking some of those ladies out on a few dates. It’s not going to kill you to get to know them. You never know, you just may end up—”
“I can’t do that,” he said, unable to stop the curtness in his voice. “I could use propriety as an excuse… but my reasons are more than merely professional ethics.”
Her jaw snapped shut and her curiosity became evident.
“I’d like to offer you an explanation,” he told her, “but my sob story would be long and tedious. Just know that dating any of those women is out of the question for me.”
Rather than quenching her interest, his response only seemed to sharpen her curiosity. But that couldn’t be helped. His past wasn’t what he came here to talk about. His future—their future—was what was important at the moment.
“You told me today,” he continued, “that taking myself off the market, making myself unavailable, was one of my choices in dealing with my, um, problem. And I’ve come to the unequivocal conclusion that I agree.”
“But I just told you that I was teasing you when I made that suggestion,” she reminded him.
Ignore that point, he said, “It’s the only viable option that I can see.” He ran an agitated hand over his jaw. “Lyssa, those women are going to drive me nuts. I’ve got to find a way to avoid… well, to avoid all this nonsense. It’s affecting the whole practice. And I can’t stand it.”
She was quiet for a moment. When she spoke, her words were soft but firm.
“I don’t understand why you just don’t tell Desiree Washington that you don’t enjoy her flirting.”
“Don’t you think I’ve tried that?” Frustration frayed his wits. “Not three weeks ago, I looked that woman in the face and told her, point-blank, that I’m not interested. In her or in anyone else. But she didn’t believe me. Or she refused to listen. Or she thought she could change my mind.”
Lyssa grimaced. “She’s a woman. Women always think they can change men.” Then her mouth twisted before she softly whispered, “But we’re always dead wrong.”
There was much more to that aside, but he was too preoccupied with his own problem to give her insinuation the due attention it deserved.
“Desiree’s not the only one,” he felt the need to inform her. “There are others.”
“Yes, I work in that office. I’ve noticed.” She tipped up her chin. “Maybe you should just be a little more forceful in making your feelings known. If these women can’t understand subtle hints, if they can’t take your resolute but gentle rejection, then maybe you need to introduce them to Dr. Nasty. Don’t be so protective of their feelings. Once they experience the sting of some harsh disdain, then maybe they won’t be so quick to make such blatant passes at you.”
Oh, how he wished he could give Desiree Washington and a couple of his other female patients a piece of his mind. Release Dr. Nasty, as Lyssa was suggesting. Telling those women exactly how he felt about them and their behavior would really feel good.
But he shook his head. “I can’t do that, Lyssa. I just can’t. You see, my grandfather taught me that I should promote integrity in all things. I don’t know if you’ll understand this, but that teaching is more than just a philosophy of life. It’s a universal truth. The Kolheek way. I am to respect others. I must treat them how I want to be treated.”
“But, Doctor Dakota, they’re not respecting you.” Her eyebrows shot heavenward as she made her point.
His tone quieted as he explained, “They have to resolve that with The Great One on the Day of Reckoning. I only have to atone for my own actions.”
Over the course of his life, he’d encountered many people who had scoffed at his Kolheek traditions. Many of his friends—people who hadn’t been raised on the rez, hadn’t grown up listening to the stories and lessons of The People—believed that his beliefs were elementary. Even antiquated. But Dakota was proud of who he was, proud of the heritage and teachings on which he strived
to base his life.
He’d fully expected Lyssa’s brown gaze to light with humor, but it didn’t. In fact, what he saw on her face was a sense of respect.
“Okay,” she said softly, “so if you can’t put these women in their place with some good old-fashioned humiliation—which is exactly what they deserve, if you ask me—then I guess you do have to make yourself unavailable to them.” She paused for only a second before she continued, “I guess that means you have to find yourself a long-term girlfriend.”
Now that her thinking was more along the lines of his, he shook his head, wanting to nudge her completely onto the path he’d paved for himself earlier today. “I’m interested in something a little more concrete than that. Something a little more… definitive.”
Total surprise lit her delicate features. “M-marriage?”
“Exactly!” he said. And before he lost his nerve, he added, “I was hoping you’d agree to become my wife.”
Chapter Two
Lyssa laughed. “Yeah, right. Sure thing, doc.” She patted her rounded belly. “Not too sure I can get away with wearing white, though.”
But he didn’t laugh with her. In fact, he didn’t even smile.
“Wait.” Every ounce of humor evaporated. “You’re serious?”
“Completely.”
She blinked. “Have you lost your mind?”
She hadn’t meant to snap at her boss, but the man had clearly lost his mind. Once she’d had a chance to take a calming breath, she began, “Dr. Dakota…”
But the rest of her thought was dissolved away by the sudden and wholly enthusiastic twinkle lighting his mossy gaze. And what a sexy gaze it was! Her heart pattered like the wings of a hummingbird and her thoughts churned up all sorts of precarious notions. Such as what would those soft, dusky lips of his feel like against her own as they shared a kiss at the altar like real brides and grooms do?
Stop! Luckily, the silent voice in her head had sense enough to cut off the thought. She already had more problems than she could handle. She refused to add to them by toying with an attraction to the one man who had been good enough to offer her a job when she’d been in such dire need of employment.
Lyssa took a deep breath and forced herself to calm down. She lifted her gaze to his. “I’m not sure you’ve thought this through, Dr. Dakota.”
The small smile that hovered at the corners of his mouth widened into a confident grin, and she was relieved that she was sitting down. That smile was too inviting for words. His silly suggestion overwhelmed her. Had she been standing, her wobbly knees wouldn’t have supported her weight.
“Don’t you think you should drop the ‘doctor’?” he asked. “Call me Dakota. I think our relationship is evolving to a new level, don’t you?”
She shook her head. “No. No, I absolutely do not.”
The confidence on his handsome face waned a fraction.
“Dr. Dakota, I can see your problem. Honestly, I can. I’ve seen the patients coming into the office in leopard-spotted undies and glitter powder in the strangest of places. And I understand how you might believe that finding a wife would be the solution to that problem…” She felt the overpowering need to swallow, but discovered that her mouth had gone bone-dry. “But I don’t understand why you’ve asked me?” She pressed her open palm to her chest. “I’m divorced. I’m pregnant. I’m… well—” without thought, her voice lowered to a conspiratorial tone “—I’m hiding from my ex-husband. My life is total disaster-on-a-stick at the moment.”
“I know all that,” Dakota said easily. “And that’s why I chose you.”
She wasn’t a stupid woman, but for the life of her she couldn’t seem to get her brain to wrap itself around his logic. Frustration clipped her tone as she asked, “What do you mean? All those facts should have you running for the hills, not asking me to be your wife.”
His full, sensuous lips pressed together, and once again Lyssa couldn’t help but wonder what his kiss might taste like if—
Aaarrgg! Stop, stop, stop! Again that frustrated voice kicked in, and Lyssa felt terrifically indebted by its silent chastisement… but she’d feel less off balance if she could force herself to surrender to her own common sense.
“I’ll be happy to explain,” he said.
He scooted forward on the seat and reached out to take her hand. His skin was warm against her own and only served to further muddle her frantic thoughts.
“You haven’t said much about your past.” Then he rushed to add, “And I’m not asking you to disclose anything you aren’t comfortable with. But since I do know that you’re… well, that you’re on the lam, so to speak, I think this marriage I’m proposing would be good for both of us. It’ll keep me safe from those women who are, well, intent on hog-tying me. And it’ll make you harder to find.”
Confusion had her thoughts clashing like thunder clouds. It was both the astounding topic of conversation, Lyssa knew, and the fact that the pad of Dakota’s thumb roved in small semicircles over her skin. She couldn’t think coherently.
He lifted one shoulder. “You’ll take my name. You won’t be Lyssa Palmer any longer. You’ll be Lyssa Makwa. You’ll be safe. Well,” he amended, “safer, anyway. I want you to know, Lyssa, I’ll do everything in my power to protect you. To protect your child.”
The turmoil she was experiencing waned as poignant emotion clogged her throat like a fat rope that had been knotted several times over.
Oh, Lord, how she’d have loved to believe him! It had been a long time since she’d felt protected and cared for. There was a warm and fuzzy coddling in his declaration that sounded downright delectable. But after all she’d been through, Lyssa didn’t dare trust her own safety or the safety of her baby to anyone. Dakota’s promise was enough to melt her heart to the point that it was dripping like hot wax down her ribs. But he didn’t know the whole story. He hadn’t a clue what he was asking to get involved in. He had no idea of the magnitude of what, of who, she was running from. If he did, he surely wouldn’t be making promises. He surely wouldn’t want to have anything to do with her. The right thing for her to do was to save him from his own ignorance.
She tried to tug her hand free. Thinking clearly was impossible with the heat of him against her flesh. “Dr. Dakota, Tori just introduced us two short weeks ago.”
Lyssa thought it would have been great to talk to the calm, collected Tori about this disastrous idea of Dakota’s. Victoria Landing, better known as Tori, owned the bed and breakfast where Lyssa had stayed when she’d first arrived in Vermont. The woman had become a true and trusted friend to Lyssa.
“I realize that. And I don’t want you to think I’m suggesting anything improper here.”
For some reason, Lyssa instinctively knew he wasn’t.
“I’m talking a strictly platonic relationship,” he assured her. “A union that will benefit both of us.”
For one quick moment, Lyssa allowed herself to imagine what it might be like to be married to a man like Dakota Makwa. He was mature in his thinking. He was smart. He was kind and concerned about the feelings of others almost to the point of seeming to be too altruistic. That wasn’t a bad thing. That was a wonderful thing. Because it made Dakota the exact opposite of her ex.
Being Dakota’s wife would bring some wondrous advantages, she was certain. Her eyes wandered to where his fingers moseyed over her skin, lifted to his sexy mouth. Naughty images danced in her brain and made her body flush with heat.
Sucking in a huge gasp, she stood up, jerking her hand from his.
“This is crazy,” she told him. “You can’t do this. It’s too much. Too extreme. Marriage is not the answer to your problem, do you hear me?”
It would not be fair to him to involve him in her problem. Of that, she was certain. With that thought in mind, she reached out and took hold of his sleeve, tugging him up from where he sat.
“Besides that… you don’t know what you’re proposing,” she murmured, her mind spinning but resolved, as she h
erded him toward the door. “You have no idea what you’d be getting mixed up in. I won’t let you do this. I just won’t.”
Ignoring the startled look in his deep-green eyes, she nudged at him until she succeeded in getting him outside on her front porch. And then she closed the door, breathing a sigh of relief to know that he and his outlandish suggestion were safely on the other side.
Her chest heaved as she rested her forehead against the worn paint on the door jamb and closed her eyes. Finally, she risked a quick peek out the front window, her heart paining when she saw Dakota walking away, his dark hair a shiny curtain down his back, his shoulders rounded in defeat.
But only a moment later she tipped up her chin with confidence.
“I’ve done the right thing,” she whispered aloud. It didn’t matter that there was no one to hear. “He might not think so right now. But I know I’ve done the right thing.”
The next two days were awkward ones at the office. Doctor Dakota’s apology had been stiff and Lyssa’s acceptance of it had felt just as unwieldy. She’d hoped that would be the end of it, but his proposal of marriage had stirred something between them. An acute awareness that was quite startling.
Oh, she’d noticed Doctor Dakota before his outrageous proposal. There could be no denying that. But she wasn’t alone. His tall, athletic frame had caught the eye of every unattached woman at Misty Glen, and a handful those from the nearby town as well. His high cheekbones, those intelligent loden-green eyes, all that long, dark hair…
The man should be modeling designer suits on the cover of GQ and Esquire, not stuck in the sparsely populated mountains of Vermont practicing medicine on a Native American reservation.
So, yes, she’d admit it. She’d felt an attraction. However, she’d done a marvelous job of controlling herself. Also, she hadn’t had the feeling, before now, that he’d done much noticing of her. Now that Doctor Dakota had asked her to marry him, though, all that had changed.
Whenever Lyssa found herself working in an exam room with him, the walls seemed close in until there wasn’t enough space to maneuver. Their shoulders and arms were constantly brushing, or she’d snag the hem of his lab coat as she walked by him in the hallway. Those occurrences hadn’t seemed a problem before.
