by Leah Atwood
Oh, no. “Please don’t mention it. Really.” She attempted to scoot to the door.
The younger De La Vega stepped in her way, a wall of lean muscles, broad shoulders, and a wide chest. There was no way she could get past that to escape.
He folded his arms. “So… how does my grandpa know about your pie? You brought it to him, right? A pie. To a diabetic. And you were berating me for treating him to two small pancakes. Or three. Well, maybe four, but that’s not the point.”
She fidgeted. “It was a tiny slice. I gave him enough bolus insulin to cover it. And I made the pie with artificial sweetener.”
Arturo didn’t move an inch. “I made pancakes with artificial sweetener, too. And used sugar-free syrup.”
“Miss Lana stayed with me for a while, and checked on me later, to make sure my sugar level was okay.” Grandfather De La Vega seemed to recognize his slip and came to her rescue.
Overcome by guilt, she placed her bag on the floor. “I admit my mistake. It was unprofessional of me. He just seemed to miss his wife’s apple pie so much….” She felt like a hypocrite for getting angry with Arturo when she’d done the same thing. He’d had the excuse of ignorance. She hadn’t.
“Tell you what.” A twinkle appeared in Arturo’s eye. She didn’t trust that twinkle. “Grandpa said you’re relatively new in town and don’t know many people. Let me take you out for dinner, and we’re even.”
Her jaw dropped. Considering the modest way she looked now, why would a handsome famous man want to go out with her? Even in a small town, wouldn’t there be plenty of beautiful women vying for his attention?
Could he… like her? Her heart skipped a beat. She’d seen the pictures in magazines of the women he’d dated. Supermodels. Actresses. TV personalities. All of them stunning. Her appearance now didn’t even come close to stunning.
“No.” Whatever his reasons were for asking her out, she couldn’t accept.
“Why not?” the De La Vegas asked in unison, as if genuinely shocked.
If somebody snapped a picture of her with a celebrity, it could end up in the media, and her secret could be revealed. Michael would try to get her back, like he’d done many times in the past. Good-bye, quiet, uncomplicated life.
“I don’t date, Mr. De La Vega.” That was true. Sort of. Of course, not all men were like her cheating, self-absorbed ex-fiancé, but why take the risk?
His eyebrows shot up. “No? Call me Arturo please. Ms. Smith, it won’t be a date. Just sharing a meal.” He seemed to recover quickly from the shock at her refusal.
“Call me Lana, please. And still no.”
“How about I’ll grill steaks and you bring salads? The three of us will share it. That kind of meal should be good for Grandpa, right? Steaks are protein, and salads are, I don’t know, water.”
“I second the invitation,” the older De La Vega chimed in.
She was outnumbered. Well, it should be safe enough to share a meal at their home instead of a public place. “You don’t play fair.”
“Does it mean you agree?” The twinkle in his eye reappeared, making his face even more handsome, if that was possible. Was that what had made women fall for him, besides his impressive physique? Or it might be his charisma. Even she was drawn to his magnetism against her will.
“Yes. In a week.” She stepped around him.
“Great,” Arturo said.
She said good-bye and hurried to her next patient. Thankfully, the rain had stopped.
Conflicting thoughts whirled in her head as she was driving. Excitement bubbled inside her at the prospect of seeing Arturo again. She did her best to squish it. If the star athlete was bored in a small town and for some inexplicable reason decided to make her his next conquest, he had another thought coming. She’d fallen for a charismatic man once and had followed him everywhere. And then she’d had her heart broken.
She’d learned her lesson.
But no matter how busy she was with her patients the entire day, Arturo’s image kept appearing in front of her eyes.
When she drove home in the evening, her stomach rumbled. Those steaks Arturo had promised her sounded good right now.
Her heart warmed as she turned to the street leading to the quaint house she was renting, after crashing at Mari’s place upon arriving to Rios Azules. A tiny cottage with two bedrooms was a far cry from the huge condo Michael had insisted on buying in Cali. But Lana loved the coziness of the cottage, the scent of wood still lingering there, and the feel of home. After being tossed around to different houses as a foster kid and later the emotional rollercoaster with Michael, it was the first place where she’d truly been happy.
Tomorrow, she’d put up Christmas lights outside and ask Mari help her get a tree, even though she didn’t have decorations yet. There was something wonderful about the scent of needles…
Lana pulled up to the house, and her stomach clenched at the sight of a black luxury car in her driveway. She glanced at her porch and swallowed hard
Oh, no, he didn’t.
But yes, he did.
Her ex made himself comfortable in the wicker chair and was checking something on his phone. She remembered him with carefully styled blond hair and clean-shaven. The black hair, beard, and moustache he sported now were probably for disguise, as well as the sunglasses. But she knew him well enough to know that the man waiting for her arrival was the famous actor Michael Jones.
How could he find her so fast? She killed the engine and drew a deep breath. Ready or not, she had to face this.
Lana climbed out of her car and headed to the entrance.
Michael looked up from his phone. For a long moment, he stared at her. Then he burst out laughing. “Well, well, well. What do we have here? You look horrible. If I didn’t know it was you, I’d never recognize you, Ariana.”
She bristled but kept her head high as she reached the door and opened it. “Let’s talk inside. And don’t call me Ariana.” She’d never liked the name Michael had chosen for her. Ariana Wren. Apparently, “Lana Smith” hadn’t been good enough for him.
Lana wanted to spit out the bitter taste of the fake name. “I don’t go by that name anymore. I go by my real one now.”
“Oh, but you will. A-ri-a-na. It’s time for you to return where you belong.”
* * *
Arturo pulled up to a cottage painted in a cheerful pinkish color. Somehow, this hue seemed to suit the mysterious nurse better than the bleak color she’d surrounded herself with. Then he remembered. Grandpa had mentioned she was renting the place. If it were up to her, she’d probably paint it gray.
A luxury car in the driveway made Arturo raise an eyebrow. She had a visitor. The sleek, expensive vehicle was a sharp contrast to her old scratched-up sedan with peeling paint, currently splattered with mud. Arturo parked near her car at the curb and turned off the engine.
He should go back. But he’d promised Grandpa he’d deliver some of the baked salmon Arturo had made for dinner. In spite of her great cooking skills and bringing slices of pies, no matter how small, to diabetic patients, she’d often been too tired to cook for herself, according to his grandpa.
Frankly, her daily nutrition or lack of thereof was none of his business. But Grandpa had obviously grown attached to his nurse, and Arturo didn’t want to disappoint him. Besides, he needed to talk him into moving to Houston, and arguing wasn’t a good way to do it.
Either way, here he was, a dinner delivery guy. He’d never live it down in the locker room if his teammates could see him now.
Only for you, Grandpa.
Arturo snatched the covered tray from the backseat and headed to the front entrance. Loud voices reached him as he was about to knock on the door.
“I love my life here. I’m not going back. Especially not after the way things were between us. After what you did.” It was easy to recognize the nurse’s voice by its icy tone.
“Barbara and I are over. Things are going to change. I’ll make it up to you. Come on. You k
now you belong with me. You’ll always belong with me. No matter what.” The male voice was low. It sounded slightly familiar, but Arturo couldn’t place it.
Arturo frowned. He didn’t want to eavesdrop, but a controlling note in the man’s voice made him pause. Protective instincts kicked in again. Every cell in his body went on high alert, as if he were on the football field, ready for the attack, able to adjust his next move accordingly.
“I said no. I won’t change my mind.” Apparently, Lana stood her ground. Arturo could respect that.
“You’re coming back with me even if I have to drag you,” the man growled.
That did it. Arturo wouldn’t stand there and wait for somebody to hurt a woman. He placed the dish on the wicker chair and tried the door, hoping he wouldn’t have to knock it down. While he didn’t mind paying for replacing the lock, he doubted a broken door would improve the nurse’s attitude toward him.
The door gave, and he stepped inside as quietly as possible. A stocky man in a dark suit stood near Lana, dangerously close, his hands fisted. Her eyes were wide, but she didn’t shift back.
“Step away from her,” Arturo said, enunciating every word.
His gut boiled, but he knew he had to act calmly. He’d learned early on that success on the football field depended not only on his speed, strength, and vision. It also depended on his ability to control his emotions, and smart, calculated thinking while under fire. All those things combined had made him a good running back and a threat on the field.
“Never lose your head,” his grandfather used to say.
The man whirled around, a fist raised, as if ready to strike. But his enthusiasm seemed to deflate as soon as he saw Arturo. While the guy probably outweighed Lana by a hundred pounds, he was no match for Arturo, who could easily lift and remove men with more muscle mass than this uninvited guest.
“Well, Mr. Arturo De La Vega, I would certainly like to meet you under difference circumstances. We have a private conversation here.” The man grunted. Again, Arturo was fairly sure he’d heard that voice before, but he couldn’t recognize the man beneath sunglasses and black hair that covered the lower part of his face.
“Please leave now.” Lana’s voice sounded tired, as if the fight was taken out of her.
“Are you asking me or him?” The man leaned toward her.
“Michael, I’m asking you to please leave now.” She pursed her lips.
“You heard the lady,” Arturo said.
“Fine.” The man she called Michael walked to the door. There he turned around and smirked. “I underestimated you, Ariana. Arturo De La Vega, huh?”
She shook her head. “We’re not…”
Michael sneered. “Don’t try to deny it. Now I know the real reason for you leaving and not wanting to come back. There’s one thing you didn’t take into account. Haven’t you heard that Arturo De La Vega’s relationships—if you can call them that—never last?”
Gritting his teeth, Arturo stepped forward. Maybe he didn’t have as much self-control as he’d originally thought. “My personal life doesn’t concern you. If you require any assistance…”
The man retreated. “No, thanks. I’ll see myself out. Ariana, he’ll get tired of you soon. Then you’ll be desperate to return.” With that, he walked out the door. The sound of the motor was followed by an angry squeal of tires.
Arturo’s curiosity got the best of him. Michael had called her Ariana while her name was Lana. Why? Maybe it was a middle name she used to go by.
She dropped into a chair, as if her legs couldn’t hold her any longer, and covered her face with her hands.
Compassion swept Arturo. Nobody deserved to be treated the way this Michael guy had treated her. Arturo’s heart squeezed with something he couldn’t place. Not jealousy. Not envy. Just a feeling that she deserved better.
Her shoulders shook, and his gut tightened. Was she crying? Someone like Michael wasn’t worth her tears. Arturo stepped to her, but she stood up abruptly. Several tears slid down her cheeks, but determination shone in her eyes. He stopped in his tracks.
“I wish you hadn’t witnessed that.” She reached for the tissues on the table and dabbed at her eyes. “But I’m glad you were here.”
“Me, too. Grandpa sent me to bring you some salmon. He said you probably hadn’t eaten all day.” Speaking of salmon… Arturo stepped outside, picked up the covered dish from the wicker chair, and returned inside the house.
Her lips curved slightly, and apprehension started fading away in her eyes. “You have a wonderful grandfather.”
“I do. Well, your boyfriend seemed to be very insistent.” The words escaped his mouth before he could stop them. Oh, man.
“He’s not my boyfriend.” Tension returned to her features, and he missed the soft expression that had been there a moment ago.
He stood close to her, and her subtle sweet scent was more evident, wreaking havoc on his senses. If he reached out to her, maybe he could make the worry in her eyes disappear. Whoa, where had that thought come from?
“He’s my ex-fiancé.” She looked away, obviously uncomfortable talking about the matter.
“Well, I need to get going. I don’t want to leave Grandpa for too long by himself. I just wanted to drop…”
“Salmon.” Her lips curled up again, attracting Arturo’s attention to her mouth. She had pink, plump lips that looked beautiful even without a trace of lipstick.
Those were not the thoughts he should be entertaining about his grandfather’s nurse. Arturo moved his gaze to her eyes. “Right.”
“Thank you very much for doing this. I’m sure I’ll enjoy it.”
He had a strange urge to take off her glasses and see her eyes more clearly again. “Enjoy what?”
Her smile widened. “The salmon.”
“Right.” One wouldn’t think he had great skills with the ladies based on this conversation.
“Please give my heartfelt thanks to your grandfather,” she said.
It was probably his dismissal. “Have a nice evening.” He headed to the door. As much as he wanted to get to know her better, he had to get going. Wait a moment. He wanted to get to know her better?
Michael’s words rang in his ears. Haven’t you heard that his relationships—if one can call them that—never last? Sadly, that was true. But Arturo wished it hadn’t been pointed out to the mysterious nurse.
“Hold on.” Her voice made him turn around, giving his pulse a jump. Maybe she didn’t want him to leave, either…
She took folded sheets of paper from her desk. “Here are some printouts about diabetes, as well as the information about the insulin pump. The diabetes educator was kind enough to give them to me. I stapled her card to the first sheet. Just in case you decide to talk to her.”
“Thanks.” He took the papers. He did want to find out more about the disease that ailed his grandfather. Still, Arturo also had a sense of emptiness inside him, as if disappointed this was the reason for her stopping him before he left.
Ridiculous.
He should be thinking about plays to win the next game and his grandpa, not the woman with secrets and two names. But if he was going to make it to practice and the next game, he needed to either move Grandpa to Houston or find good care for him in Rios Azules. And his grandfather did like Lana a lot. “Would you consider taking care of only one patient full time? The payment will be generous. Double your salary.”
She tilted her head. “I’ve grown attached to all my patients. I can’t leave them. So thank you for the offer, but I have to respectfully decline it.”
He schooled his features not to show his disappointment.
The growl of the motor outside made him tense. The sound quieted soon, but the knock on the door that followed confirmed Arturo’s suspicions.
“Ariana, open up! I have something you might be interested in.” Michael’s voice set Arturo’s teeth on edge.
“You can’t possibly have anything I’m interested in,” she muttered under h
er breath, but moved in the entrance’s direction nonetheless.
Arturo shifted toward her, wishing she wouldn’t open the door. But he couldn’t tell her what to do. He hung close, in case things got out of hand again.
She flung the door open, and Michael stepped inside, wearing a smug smile on his face. He opened an oval box he had in his hands, and she gasped. A necklace sparkled against black velvet, and from what Arturo could tell, the diamonds were real.
Arturo had seen some of his friends offer much less expensive gifts to women, and they hadn’t been able to resist them. But this woman seemed to be different. According to his grandfather, she had substance.
Michael’s smirk widened. “That’s yours, Ariana. And there’s much more where it came from. You’ve always been a smart woman…”
Arturo swallowed a hard lump of disappointment in his throat.
Chapter Four
Tuesday morning, Arturo finished loading the dishes in the dishwasher after brunch. Lana should approve of an egg omelet as a meal extremely low in carbohydrates. He’d made sure his grandfather checked his blood glucose on a regular basis. Yesterday, Arturo had also met with a diabetes educator at Grandpa’s place and then read about diabetes for about two hours after his evening jog and workout.
With all that and Grandpa going to bed early yesterday, Arturo hadn’t had a chance to tell him about the events at Lana’s place until morning. “So that guy offered her an expensive diamond necklace. She glanced at the necklace and Michael. And then she yelled, ‘Get out and don’t ever come back! Or I can’t be responsible for my actions!’”
Grandpa looked up from giving himself a bolus dose of insulin—Arturo knew those terms now—and narrowed his eyes. “I wonder who that Michael guy is. What happened next?”
“She grabbed a fire extinguisher and pointed it at him. I’m not sure if she was going to knock him out with it or cover him in foam. But Michael didn’t stick around to find out.”
“Pity. That would’ve been an interesting scene.” Grandpa laughed.
Gratitude stirred inside Arturo. He’d rarely heard his grandfather laugh after Grandma passed away four years ago. Now the house seemed more cheerful and lighter, with the windows open again and the sunlight dancing on the shiny beige tile and wood furniture. Like old times…
