by C. J. Miller
Gemma faced him and cursed the tear that escaped. In his hurry to follow her, he hadn’t grabbed his jacket and was wearing only his scrubs in the Wyoming cold.
“I am not running away. You asked me to talk to my brother and I will do that.”
“You’re upset.”
“Yes.”
“Will you tell me why?”
“You don’t know?” Why were the men she dated so dense? Why did they overcomplicate things?
“If I knew, I wouldn’t ask. I want to know. Tell me.”
“You love to give commands,” she said.
“Do you want me to ask nicely?”
It wasn’t how he’d asked it. It was what he’d asked. “We slept together. Now you’re acting dodgy. I don’t want to be involved in that again, in a relationship or even a fling with a doctor who cares more about himself than anyone else.” Even in her emotional state, she knew part of her accusation was about Jackson, not Rafe. She didn’t apologize though. Rafe was behaving almost as badly.
Rafe stepped back. “I care a great deal about you. About Danny. About my patients. What do you want from me?”
“If that’s true, why don’t you stay?” Gemma asked.
Rafe appeared bewildered. “Stay where? In Dead River? In the town I have been trying to escape from most of my life? Not a chance. I have a good job waiting for me. I can’t throw that away over a few people I care about.”
She wouldn’t change his mind. He was making it too complicated. If he couldn’t have a brief relationship with her because it was too much, what could she do? “There’s nothing more I can say to you.”
Gemma pushed Rafe’s hand away and opened her door. He didn’t stop her from leaving this time. She started her car and pulled away from the clinic. A piece of chocolate cake and some wine were waiting for her at home.
She was halfway home, before guilt got the better of her. She had asked Rafe to stay in Dead River after he had told her repeatedly of his plans to leave. Trapping him in Dead River wasn’t her intent. Sleeping together had been as much her idea as his. She pulled to the side of the road and took out her phone so she could apologize and admit she had overreacted. She dialed Rafe. He didn’t answer. She disconnected and then dialed him again.
He could be working in the lab for hours. At this rate, she couldn’t sleep with the fight, a fight she had picked, lingering between them. She pulled a U-turn and headed back to the clinic.
Parking in the same spot she’d recently vacated, she climbed out of the car. Someone was sitting on the lot. After the recent attack, fear clutched at her. But she recognized the shoes. They looked like Rafe’s. What was he doing sitting in the parking lot?
She walked close and let out a shriek. Rafe was lying faceup on the ground. Rushing to his side, she felt for a pulse. He was breathing, but he was cold. She tore off her jacket and tucked it under his head. Though it was difficult to see in the dark, she saw blood running down his temple. She had to take him inside and get more help.
Not wanting to leave him, but unable to lift him herself, she ran to the clinic’s front door and called for help. “Anand! Please, someone! Help me!”
Anand and Dr. Moore raced into the parking lot. Dr. Moore fell to her knees and looked at Rafe. She shined a light in his eyes and then looked him over. “Help me carry him inside.”
Together, they hoisted Rafe off the ground, Anand taking the bulk of his weight, and brought him into the clinic.
* * *
Rafe’s head was throbbing when he opened his eyes. The lights from the ceiling were too bright, intensifying his headache.
“You’re awake!” The squeak of chair legs against the vinyl floor and then Gemma was standing over him.
Rafe oriented himself. He was in the clinic, lying in the triage area on a cot.
“Rafe, do you remember what happened to you?” Gemma asked, looking down at him, her green eyes coming into focus, her hands moving to his pulse and then along his limbs. “Tell me if this hurts.”
Too many questions. Why was she poking and prodding him? Slowly, the events of the night replayed in his mind.
Rafe had been watching Gemma drive away from the clinic, thinking about pursuing her and weighing whether it was best to give her space, when he’d heard footsteps approaching from behind him. He’d turned around, but had seen nothing. He remembered a sharp pain on the side of his head and then darkness.
“Someone hit me on the side of the head.” Was that all he could remember?
“Dr. Moore put in a few stiches. The laceration was either from being struck or from when you hit the ground.”
Gemma’s voice choked and she brought her hands over her mouth. “When I saw you laying in the parking lot, I thought the worst had happened.”
Rafe reached out to touch her arm, but she pulled away. “I was scared for you, Rafe.”
He hated seeing her upset and he hated that he was frequently the man making her upset, even if he didn’t always understand the reasons. “I understand. I was upset when I heard you’d been attacked.”
Dr. Moore entered the room. “I thought I heard voices. How are you feeling?”
As if he’d been hit in the head. “A little like a sucker. I should have seen it coming.” If he hadn’t been distracted by Gemma’s departure, he might have.
“Nausea? Dizziness?” Dr. Moore asked, taking his chin in her hand and looking in his eyes with her pen flashlight.
“Vision is clear. I’ve got a headache, but that will go away.”
Dr. Moore nodded. “I’d prefer to send you to Cheyenne Memorial for a CAT scan, but that’s not an option right now. I need you to be on the lookout for any symptoms and report them immediately.”
He knew what to look for. “Aneurism, stroke, dying in my sleep,” Rafe said.
Gemma did not appear amused by his words.
Dr. Moore shook her head. “Just take it easy, Rafe.”
“I already called Flint,” Gemma said. “He said he would come by tomorrow morning and get a report from you.”
Home. Danny! “I should get home. Danny will be waiting for me.”
“I called him too,” Gemma said, touching his arm. “Molly agreed to stay with him until you were feeling better. She’s crashing on your couch. I hope that’s okay.”
Rafe appreciated Gemma’s thoughtfulness. Being a foster father under the conditions in Dead River was difficult. “Of course that’s okay. Thanks, Gemma.”
“I’ll drive you home,” Gemma said.
“You should try to keep him awake,” Dr. Moore said, looking up from the tablet where she was adding information into Rafe’s patient chart as she walked away.
“That will be near impossible,” Rafe said. Even when he’d been a resident doctor at Johns Hopkins in Baltimore he hadn’t worked this many long hours. When he went home, he was ready to crash.
“Molly is working the morning shift at the diner tomorrow. I’ll send her home and stay with you and Danny,” Gemma said.
Rafe wasn’t sure why she was volunteering to stay with him, especially after their last conversation, but he didn’t question her.
Gemma helped Rafe out of the bed. Rafe sat at the edge of the cot, allowing some dizziness to pass. “Why did you come back to the clinic?”
Gemma shifted. “I felt bad about what I said to you.”
He hadn’t enjoyed the conversation much either. “What in particular?”
Gemma sat next to him. He was reminded of being with her in the doctor-and-nurse lounge. Nothing would happen here, with only a curtain between them and their colleagues, but he was keyed into the idea.
“I shouldn’t bring up the idea of you staying in Dead River.”
When she did, he felt guiltier than he already did. “It’s not an option.” Rafe li
ked to think of himself as flexible, but remaining in Dead River wasn’t negotiable.
He stood and Gemma set one hand on his lower back and one on his stomach.
“Are you okay? We’ll go as slow as you need.”
“Move your hand lower and we can make this go faster,” he said, trying to think about sex and not the sharp pain in his head.
Gemma laughed quietly. “It’s not an option.” Echoing his words back to him.
He harrumphed. He put on his jacket and they walked to Gemma’s car. They climbed inside and Gemma turned the key in the ignition.
Rafe didn’t want Gemma to feel obligated to take care of him. He could take care of himself and Danny. “Why are you doing this? You don’t owe me anything.”
Gemma pressed her lips together and then glanced at him. “Danny deserves better. He deserves breakfast on the table in the morning and hugs before school. I know he’s a teenager and maybe he thinks he’s too old for that, but it’s how I feel.”
“Is that how your grandmother sent you and your brothers to school in the morning?” Rafe asked, trying to gain some insight into Gemma’s thoughts.
“Most mornings. I remember a few times when my father would come around and cause a problem. Those mornings were chaotic and tense. When it was the four of us, Gram Dottie and my brothers and I had some nice family time at the breakfast table. My grandmother did her best to keep us together and strong.”
“Is that why you’re so angry at me? You think I’m doing to Danny what your father did to you?”
Her brows furrowed and then she sighed. “I hadn’t thought about it that way. Maybe it’s a bit of that, but also a little of what happened with the last doctor I dated. That relationship crashed and burned. My dad was a jerk and while my brothers are good men, they have their relationship issues too.”
Rafe’s headache intensified. He wasn’t sure he liked being lumped into a group with her father and the doctor who’d cheated on her. He expected better of himself. She deserved better. “That’s harsh, telling me I’m like a cheater and a liar.”
“You’re the one who told me to speak my mind,” she said.
Though he didn’t like what she’d said, he did prefer honest Gemma to peacemaker Gemma. “At least you’re telling me how you feel.”
“You haven’t lied to me about your plans. What you do after a cure is found is up to you.”
She said the words, but he knew she didn’t feel them. She thought less of him for leaving, maybe because of Danny and maybe because of her. He didn’t like being less in her eyes, but he wasn’t willing to do what was necessary to change it.
Chapter 7
Gemma drove Molly home and then returned to Rafe’s house. He had changed into athletic pants and a white cotton T-shirt. He looked rugged and handsome. He hadn’t shaved in a while and she liked the roughened look on him.
“I woke Danny and told him I was home so he didn’t worry,” Rafe said.
“When I spoke to him earlier tonight, he was concerned about you.”
She was concerned about him, too. A head injury was nothing to take lightly and without the proper screening equipment, they had to monitor symptoms and hope nothing serious occurred. “What can I fix you to eat?” Gemma asked.
“You’ll be sorely disappointed with the ingredients I have to work with,” Rafe said.
“We can make it an adventure.”
“You don’t have to stay awake with me. Being here for Danny is enough.”
She had said her motives were to make sure Danny was okay, but she was also here for Rafe. He knew it. “If I go to sleep, you’ll fall asleep.”
Rafe rolled his shoulders. “You’re welcome to curl up in my bed and relax. You need to sleep sometime.”
His bed. With him? She read it as an invitation, but because it was Rafe, she might have been extrapolating. “Let’s see about food first.” Going into his bedroom would be akin to relighting the smoldering fire between them.
“I’m not hungry,” he said. “But you’re welcome to eat.”
“Not hungry or are you nauseated?” Her worry intensified.
“Not hungry,” Rafe said, reassuring her. “For someone who is mad at me, you’re awfully concerned about my well-being.”
Gemma stuck out her tongue. “Flint told me to take care of you.”
“Then this is a favor to your brother.”
Being here wasn’t only because of Flint’s request. She had needed to see for herself that Rafe was okay. “Perhaps.”
“Then it would be wrong of me to ask you to come to my bedroom, but not to sleep. To spend time with me.”
Gemma laughed softly. “Even when you’ve been knocked unconscious, you’re still thinking about sex.”
Rafe touched the side of his head. “It will make me feel better.”
Gemma shook her head. “No strenuous activity.”
“I can do laid-back sex,” Rafe said.
“With Danny home?” Gemma asked.
“Our bedrooms are on opposite sides of the house and my doors lock,” Rafe said.
“I think we know what will happen if we go to your room alone. Are we sure it’s what we want?” She had to think it through while clothes were on and they weren’t horizontal.
“Of course I want you. I’ve always wanted you. I’ll always want you. I’ve made that clear, haven’t I?”
They were words that could melt her where she stood. Her unwillingness to say no when confronted with sex with him was telling.
He moved quickly, crossing the room and putting his arms around her waist. His arousal pressed against her belly and the reasons for not having sex became nonexistent. “We have to be quiet.”
He nodded solemnly. “Of course.”
She took his hand and led him upstairs. At the landing at the top of the stairs he pointed to the right. She walked to his bedroom and opened the double doors to the master suite. She inhaled when they entered the room. “I didn’t think your room would look like this.”
“It’s a rental, remember?” he asked.
“It’s like from a Victorian novel.”
She closed the first door, sliding the lock up into the frame. She closed the second door and locked the knob.
She faced him and took his shirt in her hands, pulling it over his head. “I love seeing you naked.”
She lowered his pants, kneeling on the floor to help him step out of them, worried he might feel off-balance from his injury. Her mouth was level with his hips, and she brushed against him as she stood.
“Are you playing nurse to me?” he asked.
“I don’t have to play nurse. I am a nurse,” she said.
“Why don’t you ever wear a white outfit with a little cap?” he teased.
“When is the last time you saw a nurse wearing a short, white skirt?” she asked.
“Come to think of it, never in real life,” he said.
She backed him to the bed, but before she could push him onto it, he took her arms and spun. “Let’s play this differently. Let me play nurse to you.”
It had interesting possibilities. “So you want to wear a white skirt?”
Rafe laughed. “No. I want you in bed and me waiting on you.”
“You’re the one with a head injury.”
“Don’t worry about that.” He lifted her legs and set them on his mattress. His pillow and sheets smelled of him.
Rafe slipped his hand under her pants and lowered them down her legs. Then he removed her shirt. “How do you feel about being blind-folded?” he asked.
Her senses went on alert. Blind-folded? She hadn’t been blind-folded in bed before. “We can try it.”
He reached into his bedside table and removed a black box. A black box of exciting possibili
ties. He opened the lid and removed a dark purple slip of fabric. He held it up and she nodded. He slipped it around her eyes.
Completely in the dark, she felt him run his hand down her body. Without seeing him, without being able to anticipate what he was planning and doing, she found his touch made her skin tingle more. Then his lips brushed her neck and her hips lifted involuntarily from the bed.
He set his hand gently on her waist and lowered her flat onto the mattress. His mouth moved down her body, past her breasts and then lower, down her side, along her thigh and to her feet.
He kissed the arches of her feet and then moved his body between her parted thighs. She reached for him, wanting to draw him close, but he resisted, not giving her the full body contact she craved.
Rafe removed her bra and then her underwear. The scent of him washed over her and lust enveloped her.
He covered her with his body. The heat of his skin scorched her.
He reached between her legs. “I love the way you look when you’re turned on.”
“How do you know I’m turned on?” she asked.
He laughed as he slid two fingers easily inside her. “I don’t know all there is to learn about your body, but I’m a quick study.”
Drawing away again, she heard the opening of a condom and then he was nudging at the entrance to her body.
“Open your legs for me. Let me inside you.”
She did as he asked.
He slid into her and went perfectly still. She pushed her hips against his, bringing him deep. Gemma accepted him as part of her. Tilting his hips, he moved slow, too slow. She felt a release building inside her but out of reach. He needed to move harder, faster.
She undulated her hips and he stilled her movements. “You will do nothing to hasten this. I want every moment to last.”
She needed to see him. She removed the cloth from her eyes and as they adjusted to the light, she met his gaze. He was watching her, an expression of pleasure on his face, the beginnings of a smile and enough intensity for her to know the power wasn’t lost on him.
He spun her, dangling her legs off the mattress, and he stood at the edge of the bed. Reaching between her legs, he made small circles with his thumb and then he began to move, faster and harder.
