by Unknown
Naomi couldn’t take it all in. She stood, then immediately sat back down. Her shaking legs wouldn’t support her. “A-are you sure?”
“I’ll let you talk to him.”
“No, I—”
“Hello, Mrs. Jones,” greeted a smooth male voice. “I’m Dr. Youngblood.”
Naomi’s grip on the phone tightened on thinking of the forms she’d have to fill out. Forms that required certain information she didn’t want anyone to know.
“Mrs. Jones?”
“Y-Yes?” Her voice was shaky.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes. I’m just tired.”
“I understand. Why don’t we take it easy, and tomorrow I’ll pick you and your daughter up around ten?”
“We’ll be ready.” Naomi hung up the phone unable to keep the growing fear at bay.
He knew all the ways of finding a person, and he had strong reasons for trying. One slip and she’d be lost, and he’d win, and she might never see Kayla again.
RICHARD SLOWLY HUNG UP THE PHONE. “SHE SOUNDED frightened to death.”
Catherine’s rising spirits plummeted. “I was hoping talking to you would do the exact opposite.”
“Sorry.”
“It’s not your fault.” She picked up her purse and pulled out her wallet.
“I told you I’d take care of the hybrid’s bill,” Luke said, annoyed.
“It’s not for Hero.” She handed Richard two fifties. “I included dry cleaning and meals without your permission.”
“Dry cleaning and meals are included in the salary,” Richard said, straight-faced.
“I don’t believe you for a minute.” Catherine returned the money to her wallet. “If I can ever return the favor, just ask.”
Richard grinned. “Your smile is thanks enough.”
“Good night, Youngblood,” Luke growled, taking Catherine’s arm and leading her to the truck. It was a good thing he didn’t see Richard wink or Catherine smother a laugh, or he might have really lost it.
Luke slammed her door and went around, got in, and slammed his door. Flicking on the motor, he put the truck in gear and pulled out. “Youngblood should spend more time practicing medicine than flirting.”
“Luke.”
“Yeah?”
“You ever flirted with a woman?”
His startled gaze switched to her. “What?”
“Flirted with a woman.”
He shifted the gears as he passed a semi. “What kind of question is that?”
“One I would like an answer to,” she said, twisting in her seat, hating the restraint of the seat belt.
“You can’t always have your way.”
She laughed. “Luke, you have no idea of the trouble you’d be in if I had my way.”
He swung his gaze to her. The blast of an angry motorist had him jerking the wheel. He had veered over in the other lane. “Not another word until we’re home, and I mean it.”
Catherine sat back in her seat, a little smile on her face. Luke had said home, not cabin.
LUKE HAD NEVER HAD ANY DIFFICULTY WITH KEEPING women pigeonholed. He wasn’t the playboy type like his brothers. He didn’t believe in a lot of women cluttering up his life. One was sometimes too much. You went into a relationship with the rules laid out. Apparently no one had told Catherine.
Stopping in front of the cabin, he got out. Catherine was already around the hood of the truck and heading for the front door. No doubt, she couldn’t wait to tie him up in knots again.
He stopped her just as she went to unlock the front door. After checking to make sure his device had not been disturbed, he opened the door and stepped aside for her to enter. Brushing past him, she hit the track light that illuminated the great room and kept walking. Tossing her purse on the couch, she sat down, spread her arms on the back of the cushion, and crossed her legs.
“Why are you so uptight?”
He jammed his hands in his pockets. “I am not uptight.”
“Luke, please, let’s be honest here.”
His dark head came up. “No one questions my honesty.”
She rose from the couch so fast, he stepped back. She kept walking until their bodies touched. “Now, say that again.”
“Why are you pushing this? You’re not the kind of woman to have affairs.”
“I’ve never felt this way before.”
His black eyes widened, then closed. “Go to bed, Catherine.”
“Which one?”
His eyes blinked open. She stared up at him, her desire for him open and unguarded. Heat like molten lava spread to him, clouding reason.
He pulled her into his arms, kissing her lips, tasting her. On the couch, his greedy hand sought her silken flesh, desperately eager for more. Her clothes easily yielded to his determined assault. His mouth closed over her nipple, causing her to arch up.
Need and want spiraled through him.
“Luke.” Her hands went to the button of his pants.
“No.” His breathing rough and ragged, he pulled her to him, stopping her. “Enough.”
“Lu—”
“No.”
“Just tell me, why?”
Lifting his head he stared down into her eyes dazed with passion. “Because you have enough to deal with. This wouldn’t last.”
The truth of his words didn’t make the pain any less. “That’s exactly the reason you don’t have to stop. I don’t expect anything from you, but what you’re willing to give here and now.”
His face became fierce. “What kind of talk is that? You’re not that type of woman.”
“I’ve never wanted like this before.”
His body got harder. He surged to his feet. “Catherine, don’t keep doing this.”
She sat up not bothering to button her jacket or hook her bra. Luke’s gaze dipped to her taut breast. His hands clenched.
Spirals of heat and need coursed through her. She drew in a deep, steadying breath, then another and another. Luke wouldn’t be the man she cared about if he couldn’t control his desire or thought only of his own need. She stood, somehow making her quivering legs support her. “Good night, Luke.”
“Good night, Catherine.”
LUKE COULDN’T PLAY, COULDN’T SLEEP. DEEP INSIDE him was an odd ache that left him restless and edgy. After two hours of prowling his room, he suddenly realized the reason.
Pulling on his jeans, he started for the kitchen. He hadn’t eaten since lunch and mesquite grilled chicken breasts had never been one of his favorite foods. Passing Catherine’s room, he stopped on noticing the open door.
“Catherine?”
“Yes?”
He jerked around. The sound had come from the great room. Going closer, his gaze searched the room until he found her in his chair, her feet tucked under her. He snapped the table light on. “Why are you up?”
“You weren’t playing and I couldn’t sleep.”
“Cath—”
“I didn’t mean to disturb you. I would have gone outside, but I didn’t think you’d want me to do that.”
“Cath—”
“Even at night it’s beautiful here. I’ll miss your woods and your mountains very much when I go home.”
“Catherine, it wouldn’t work and it would hurt more than it would heal.” She looked so alone and defenseless. Why wouldn’t she look at him?
“I don’t need healing, Luke. My feelings for you have nothing to do with the other.”
“Doesn’t it?” he challenged.
She turned her head to look at him. “I admit to having behaved irrationally at times these last few months, but that doesn’t mean I’d offer my body to any man who helped me. Robert can attest to that.”
“The neighbor,” Luke gritted out.
Gracefully she came to her feet. “I think I’ll go back to my room.”
He caught her arm as she passed. Her skin was soft and warm beneath the silk. His fingers flexed. “I took some psychology classes.”
&nbs
p; A delicate brow lifted. “A degree is a prerequisite for acceptance into the FBI so that doesn’t come as a surprise.”
“You’re very calm all of a sudden.”
“I’m trying.”
“I guess your feelings for me didn’t matter as much as you thought?” The question surprised him as much as it seemed to surprise her.
“And you’ve jumped to the illogical conclusion that because I’m not falling apart, you don’t matter?”
“I didn’t say that.”
She sighed. “Luke, you may have taken classes, but I taught the course.”
His mouth tightened.
Her hand lifted to rest lightly against his chest. “You’re the reason I’m not falling apart. You make me stronger, not weaker. I hurt, but even if I could, I wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”
“I would,” he told her, but a small part of him wasn’t so sure.
Her face saddened. “I know you aren’t happy about wanting me, but I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to being pleased that you care just a little.” A smile touched her face. “I don’t think you have counted many women in that number.”
“How do you know?” he asked almost defensively.
“You’re fighting this too hard.” She stepped closer until their bodies touched. “Which one of us are you trying to protect, Luke?”
The heat of her body, the tantalizing scent of her perfume struck his senses like a sledgehammer. Hunger gnawed at him. He wanted. He needed. Releasing her, he stepped back. “You might not be so blasé next week when you return home.”
“I might not be alive next week.”
Fear and panic swept through him. His hands clamped around her arms. His eyes were wild, desperate, his voice frantic. “Did something else happen you didn’t tell me about?”
Startled eyes stared up at him. “No. I only meant no one can predict the future.”
He heard her words, but he couldn’t quite control the shudder that racked his body, the cold that invaded his soul. So he did the only thing he could to right his world, he crushed her to him.
Her hands held him almost as fiercely as he held her. “I’m fine,” she repeated. “Marvelous actually, since you’re holding me.”
“Nothing is going to happen to you.” The words were fierce. “Whoever is out there is trying to rattle you, not hurt you.”
“Like I said, there are different kinds of hurt.”
“Cath.” His hand swept up and down the elegant curve of her back. “You don’t give up, do you?”
“Not when something is important.” Her cheek nuzzled the hard wall of his muscled chest, then she lifted her head. “Besides, I only have until Sunday to work on you.”
He didn’t know if her words pleased or scared him. “And I thought Mama was stubborn.”
She lowered her head back to his chest. “She probably already has my replacement lined up.”
Strong fingers lifted her chin. “Replacing you is impossible.”
“Oh, Luke.”
Luke considered himself a strong man, but not when looking into the eyes of a woman he wanted, a woman who wanted him just as much. His lips were a gentle brush against hers. “Good night. Again.”
“Will you play for me?”
“Yes.”
“Then I guess I better turn in. The sooner I go to sleep, the quicker I can see you again.”
Luke returned to his room and picked up his guitar. He was in trouble, but he couldn’t quite recapture his anger. Instead he visualized Catherine pulling off her robe and sliding beneath the sheets he had smoothed with his hands. And God help him, he imagined himself sliding beneath them with her and then into her.
His fingers touched the strings without him being aware of it. The sounds started soft, slow, mournful. The melody was hauntingly beautiful, yet soulful and sad, blues at its most elemental and basic. A lover yearning for that which was lost to him. The sound reached down into the depth of your heart, going deep where even you were afraid to admit to yourself you hurt and needed that badly.
On the other side of the wall, Catherine, who had been waiting for the sound, scooted up against the heavily carved, antique headboard. She didn’t bother turning on the light, enough illumination was provided by the moonlight streaming through the slightly open shutters on the two windows. Besides, it seemed fitting the music be heard in half-shadows. Lying in bed, she listened as Luke played.
One song blended into the other, each more mournful than the last, each one tugging at the heart and going deep for the emotions. There was no escape from the music. None. Nor did she wish there to be. Luke was touching her in the only way that he thought he could. He was wrong and before Sunday arrived, she was going to prove it to him.
When the last note came, she slid beneath the covers, unconsciously running her hands over the cool cotton sheet where Luke had touched. A smile curved her lips as sleep claimed her. Number twenty-eight was going to be Luke’s lucky number.
CATHERINE WOKE IN AN OPTIMISTIC MOOD. AS THE morning before, she and Luke prepared breakfast together. After eating and cleaning up the kitchen, she went to get dressed. Humming, she pulled on a short, fitted red skirt, then a matching jacket with a portrait collar. She had planned wearing it when she spoke at the Psychological Association Conference, but she needed something that would keep Luke’s mind on her all day.
From the admiring glint in his black eyes when she emerged from the bedroom, she had been right. His eyes roamed over her like silent, caressing fingers. She shivered, her gaze was no less admiring on him. He looked maddeningly handsome in the single-breasted oatmeal-colored sports coat and chocolate-colored slacks. He’d look even better in nothing at all.
She flushed, then smiled at the naughty, but oh so delicious thought.
Crossing to her, he took her arm and started from the house. “You’re awful happy this morning.”
“Yes, I am,” she admitted. “I’ve got a feeling something wonderful is going to happen today.”
RICHARD DIDN’T KNOW WHAT TO EXPECT WHEN HE knocked on number 105. It certainly wasn’t the tiny woman who peered cautiously at him with huge, weary black eyes through the tiny slit in the hotel door. He smiled to put her at ease. “Good morning, Mrs. Jones. I’m Dr. Youngblood.”
The opening didn’t widen. Clearly she wasn’t ready to trust him completely. “Good morning. If you’d wait, we’ll be out in a minute.”
He handed her the uniform. “You’ll need this.”
The door opened wider. He had a chance to see her face. Soft, pretty, but wearing lines of strain. A slim hand with short unvarnished nails took the plastic-covered hanger. “Thank you. I won’t be long.”
The door closed. Richard’s brow bunched. Luke was definitely right. She was scared.
In less than five minutes, the door opened. Naomi walked out holding the hand of her little girl. Her eyes were no less afraid. Like a mistreated animal, hurt by man, afraid to trust. He had lost count of the number he had patiently taught to trust again.
“Thank you for giving me the job. I’ll work hard.”
Like a dutiful child, she repeated the words as if she had rehearsed them all night, as if afraid the job would be taken from her. “The job is yours for as long as you want. I’m the one who should be thanking you.” He glanced at the little girl by her side. “You must be Kayla.”
Delighted, she grinned, showing small white teeth. “You know my name.”
Richard squatted down. “Catherine and Luke told me. I happen to know you like hamburgers with mustard and that’s exactly what we’re having for lunch.”
“Wow,” she said, then looked up at her mother. “Did you hear?”
“Yes.” Naomi smiled.
Richard happened to be looking up at her when she did. The smile transformed her face, taking away the shadows, the lines of strain, to reveal a lovely young woman with delicate features and a soft, kissable mouth.
He stood. Wrong thought. Wrong woman. “I’m ready if you are.
”
“Yes.” She bit her lip, her hand going around her daughter’s shoulder. “We’re ready.”
NAOMI WAS NERVOUS. SOMEHOW SHE HADN’T expected Dr. Youngblood to be so young or so gentle and patient with Kayla. Especially the patience. From the time Kayla had been buckled into her seat, she had started asking questions about the animals he cared for. Naomi hadn’t tried to curb her daughter’s inquisitiveness. The more she kept Dr. Youngblood occupied answering questions, the less time he had to ask her questions.
Now, touring the clinic, Kayla was still asking questions. “Can I play with the animals sometimes?”
“No, Kayla.” Dr. Youngblood led them back out to the front. “Just like you shouldn’t play with strangers, you shouldn’t play with strange animals.”
“But if I played with them they’d become my friend and they wouldn’t be like a stranger,” she reasoned.
Naomi had to smile.
“But until they became your friend, they’d still be strangers and the answer is still no.” He turned to Naomi. “You have a very sharp daughter.”
“Especially when she wants her way.”
Richard’s gaze strayed to her lips. This time she caught him. She stiffened and took a step back.
He could ignore his blunder or face the situation head on. “I apologize for that. It won’t happen again.”
She eased toward the door, taking Kayla with her.
“Mama, what’s the matter?”
Richard felt as if he had destroyed something precious. “You have nothing to fear from me, but until you learn that, we’ll leave the doors open. As you can see from the desk, I need your help. If you want, we’ll take one day at a time and you get paid at the end of every day.”
Naomi paused.
Richard pulled out his wallet and laid sixty dollars on the desk. “It’s all I have on me. I’ll get the rest before you get off.”
Naomi glanced at the money that would buy Kayla food, a place to sleep where she wouldn’t be scared. Picking it up, she shoved it deep in the pocket of her pants. “We’ll take one day at a time.”
The front door opened. The phone rang. Richard was thankful to both. “Let’s get started.”
