Fields tugged hard on Harry, practically dragging him up the stairs. Tyson jerked his head at Sam to indicate that he wanted him to escort them through the house. Sam nodded and trailed after the two men.
Tyson stood for a long moment staring up the staircase before turning to Libby. "I'm sorry about that. Harry Jenkins can be very unpleasant."
"They scared the hell out of me."
"I know. I could see it on your face. Thank you for sticking up for me. It isn't often that happens and I really appreciate it."
"Aren't you going to ask me why I stopped by?" Libby challenged him.
His fingers tangled in her hair. "I managed to work that out while I was pretending to listen to Harry and Joe. I'm sorry, Libby." He turned to wave his arms to encompass the lab. "I've been breaking down the PDG drug, component by component, and time got away from me. I can't tell you how sorry I am. I set the alarm, but if it went off, I didn't hear it."
"You set an alarm to remember we had a date?" She glanced at the clock by the stairway. A tray of untouched food was beside it, right where Sam must have placed it earlier in the day.
He sighed. "That sounds so bad. I mean it, Libby, I'm really sorry. It won't . . ."
She put her fingers over his lips. "Don't tell me it won't happen again. Of course it will happen again. It's just a fact of your life that whatever you're working on can consume you completely. Where's another lab coat? I want to see what you found."
Tyson stood in stunned silence. No one had ever reacted that way. And no one had ever asked to share his passion with him. "Are you sure?" He could barely get the words out and his tone was husky to his own ears.
"Before Irene ever mentioned the trial to me, I was reading as much as I could about the drug. It sounded so promising that I researched it as thoroughly as possible. Several colleagues of mine contributed what they knew or thought, and I began to get a very uneasy feeling. That's why when Irene asked about putting Drew in the program I asked her to wait a bit longer until we knew more."
"You were right to be suspicious," Ty said. "The side effects for young people are very different from the side effects for adults, yet they're using the drug for both. The adults seem to be able to handle it, but the kids are definitely having a problem." He reached over her head to drag a lab coat from a shelf. "Here, put this on."
"And then we're going to go out and get you food, Ty," Libby said. "You can't go without eating, it isn't good for you."
"You sound like Sam," Tyson said as he led her toward the back of the room where he had his work set up. "He's all about getting me fat."
"He brought you lunch earlier."
"Did he?" Ty looked around with a faint frown on his face. "I don't remember. Poor Sam. I must drive him crazy. He takes the time to make food for me and I don't even notice him. I'm the only family he's got and I'm not very good."
Libby rubbed his arm. "Family loves unconditionally."
Their gazes collided. "Not my family."
She flinched at the grimness in his tone. "Isn't that the way you love Sam?"
He turned to examine the data on the screen of his computer. "Yes."
Libby smiled to herself. His voice was gruff. He was uncomfortable with anything to do with his emotions. "Then most definitely you know how to love unconditionally."
Tyson drummed his fingers on the tabletop, peering closer at the computer, clearly uncomfortable. "I know the problem is in the components, but I haven't isolated it yet. Old Harry could be a great biochemist. He's got the right idea, but something is off and I just can't get it."
"Most research focuses on adults, not adolescents. Much more research on the adolescent brain is needed. We need large focus studies of treatment conducted," Libby suggested.
Tyson nodded his head in agreement. "I spoke to the head office about that just the other day. They don't seem to understand that brains that aren't fully developed react differently to meds than adult brains."
"Maybe they don't want to know, Ty," Libby said carefully. "There are too few researchers focusing on children and most are working for pharmaceutical companies. Maybe the answer is for a non-pharmaceutical company to conduct the studies."
He shook his head. "I don't believe that, Libby. The men and women on my team are dedicated to what they do, not to the money for the company. They want to find ways to help. I think we need to show the importance for adolescents. People have the unrealistic idea that teens aren't vulnerable to disease and mental illness. Maybe they just don't want the facts in their face so they overlook that particular segment in research, but the reaction these kids are having to this drug is a prime example of why we need to concentrate on the adolescent brain."
Libby pushed a hip against him to move him so she could see the data as well. "We should talk to Drew and get his mother's consent to draw his blood."
"And get the reports on him from this study," Tyson agreed. "That would be very helpful. Do you think Irene will give us her consent?"
"She's called the house numerous times and she was very apologetic."
"She should be. She bashed you over the head."
"Not just for that. I doubt she would have hurt me if I hadn't already been having a difficult time, but she actually sold Drew's remarkable story of my putting him into remission to a tabloid."
Tyson stiffened, straightening to frown at her. "She claimed you healed Drew and sold the story to a tabloid?" He repeated it slowly and Libby could feel the tension in the room go up noticeably.
She swallowed hard. Tyson might be on his way to accepting the magical talents of the Drakes, but he wasn't totally there yet. It made him very uncomfortable and she didn't like the feeling of walking on eggshells when she talked to him about it. "You know, Ty, I live with unexplained things every day. They're commonplace in my life. If we can't talk about it, then there's no point continuing to try to have a relationship."
His eyes narrowed and he caught her chin in his hand. "I'm not trying to have a relationship with you; Libby, I'm in a relationship with you. I've wanted you as far back as I can remember. Maybe I didn't always recognize that it was you that I wanted, but you were important to me and I couldn't stop thinking, or fantasizing about you. Your family doesn't scare me. I have a lot of failings, but I'm tenacious. I know we're right together. Maybe you don't yet, but I do."
"I love my family, Ty. I'm always going to love them and I'll always need to be close to them. There's no getting away from that."
"I know. I can see that every time I look at you with them. If I seemed a bit upset it wasn't over your family, it was the fact that Irene would sell out not only a friend, as you obviously are to her, but her own son. I'm certain the notoriety didn't help his condition."
Tyson bent his head to kiss her again, because he couldn't resist. Her eyes widened with shock and took on a slow, sensual burn that caused a heated meltdown to his insides. He threw caution to the wind. His palm curled around the nape of her neck to drag her closer, fingers twisting in the wealth of thick, dark hair so he could pull back her head to the perfect angle, to give his mouth access to her. She was everything he'd ever wanted, ever dreamed or fantasized about. He wanted her with every fiber of his body, every cell of his being.
He kissed her, savoring the taste of her, aggressive in his pursuit. He wanted her to feel the things he couldn't seem to convey to her with words. It wasn't only about the excitement of her body. She'd found some weakness and invaded his mind, wrapped herself inside him. She'd been there much longer than he'd ever acknowledged.
"Sometimes, at night, before I go to sleep, I hear you laugh," he murmured against her lips. He ached with wanting her, with his need of her. "I lie there wishing you were with me."
His mouth was driving her crazy, making the world slide away until she could think of nothing but him. Her arms slid around his neck, her body became liquid heat, pliable, flowing, alive with need. She could feel every muscle in his body, taste his hunger, his passion. One hand tangled in her
hair, the other shaped the curve of her waist, her hip, slid under her blouse to stroke bare skin. She swore the pads of his fingers sent tiny electrical pulses streaking through her body to find every nerve ending.
She burrowed her hands under his shirt, wanting to get closer to him, surprised by the feel of hard muscle as she ran her palms gently over his chest. She was drowning in his kisses, aching for him, returning kiss for kiss as the voltage went up several kilowatts and spread with the force of thermonuclear energy through her body.
Tyson tore his mouth from hers, breathing deeply to regain control. "We can't stay here, Libby."
She blinked up at him, a little dazed by her reaction to him. "We can't?"
"No, Sam could walk in any time and I'm not going to be able to keep my hands off you." Tyson looked down at her, arms still holding her tightly against him, pressing his body into hers. "Come on, I've got a few special places I'd like you to see. We can go on the motorcycle. You're already dressed for it."
Libby slid her arms around his waist. It was silly, really, she was very independent, but Tyson made her feel protected and safe when he held her so close. And she couldn't suppress a small guilty thrill that went through her at the possessive way he looked at her. "I worked up my courage hours ago, Ty, but I've lost it again. I've seen too many head injuries from motorcycles."
"You said you'd go with me." His chin nuzzled the top of her head.
"That was before, when you kissed me until I couldn't think."
He pulled back to look at her, a slow smile lighting his face. "You couldn't think?"
"No. I was lucky to know my own name," Libby admitted, laughing softly.
As Libby hugged Tyson hard around his waist, she felt waves of animosity surrounding her. Glancing up, she encountered Sam scowling down at them from the landing. He reached out and touched the clock sitting on the small telephone table beside the stairs, but he was looking at her, and it wasn't a pleasant perusal. In that unguarded moment, she knew Sam felt the same way about Tyson and Libby dating as Sarah did--he was totally against it.
Sam's eyes met hers, his animosity plain. She couldn't really blame him if Tyson really hadn't been eating or sleeping or even working because of her, but it was uncomfortable to know someone didn't like her. She'd never known that to happen before. Instantly she tried to pull free from Ty, but he tightened his hold as he looked up at his cousin with a small grin.
"Hey, Sam, I was just about to leave with Libby on the bike. Are you going out tonight?"
"Ty, I'd like to talk to you for a minute," Sam said, his voice grim.
"Sure. This will only take a second, Libby," Tyson assured her as he went up to the top of the stairs.
Libby watched the two men go into the hallway. Neither closed the door. Their voices carried clearly back down to her.
"You aren't going to take her out on your motorcycle, are you?" Sam demanded. "Are you crazy? If something goes wrong she's liable to sue you."
"What's wrong, Sam?" Tyson asked.
"Good old Harry is a first-class bastard, Ty, but he asked a good question. What is she doing with you? You're worth a lot of money. You don't think she knows that?"
Libby's breath caught in her throat. No one had ever accused her of being a gold digger before. She was going to tell Sam to shove it. She took a step toward the stairs.
"So, what you're saying, Sam, is that a woman couldn't possibly want to be with me for any other reason than my money? What? Am I really that screwed up?"
"I'm not saying that, but come on, Ty. Libby Drake? She agrees to go riding on a motorcycle because you kiss her and she can't think? That's a load of crap and you're smart enough to know it. The perfect woman is not about to go out with anyone who isn't perfection unless she has an ulterior motive."
"You're so certain it can't be because she respects who I am? That just maybe she finds me interesting and unique? Isn't that possible?"
The hurt in Tyson's voice stopped Libby. His parents had rejected him and now Sam, his only family, had said the one thing guaranteed to break Ty's heart. Her temper flared and she practically flung herself up the stairs, uncaring that they would be embarrassed to be overheard. She deliberately wrapped her arm around Tyson's waist as she glared at Sam.
"I couldn't help overhearing, Sam. I assure you, I make more than a decent living for myself. I don't need Tyson's money."
"Right," Sam said, sarcasm dripping from his voice. "And right now you're more than willing to sign a prenuptial agreement."
"For a motorcycle ride?"
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Sam snapped.
"Enough, Sam," Tyson said. He took Libby's arm. "We're heading out and I'm not certain what time I'll be home."
11
TYSON didn't say anything as she climbed on the motorcycle behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist. His gloved hand rubbed briefly over hers and then he looked straight ahead.
Libby pressed her face against Tyson's back as the motorcycle roared to life. Her heart thundered in her ears and she closed her eyes. It was silly to be afraid, especially when he had promised to go very slow, but she was already regretting her decision. That little niggling doubt was beginning to edge into her mind, growing stronger and more fearful as the road sped past the cycle's wheels.
But worse than her nervousness about riding the motorcycle was the way her mind kept coming back again and again to Sam's hurtful accusations and the realization that he didn't like her and didn't want her to have anything to do with Ty.
She tried to shrug it off as Joley would have done, with a casual toss of her head. He doesn't like me? Well, screw him! But Libby wasn't Joley and she couldn't just forget it. Sam's accusations had hurt. Being disliked hurt.
Oh, for heaven's sake. Why was it so necessary that everyone like her? Yes, she was mortified and humiliated that Sam thought she was after Ty's money, but while she was sitting here wallowing in her own pity party, she could feel Tyson's much deeper pain radiating from him. She felt his pain, the ache in his heart. There was no way to take back Sam's cutting remarks. She could only do her best to soothe Ty with warm waves of energy and burrow close in an effort to comfort him. She knew he doubted himself--and her.
With her body pressed up against Ty's, her arms around him and the bike vibrating between her thighs, she eventually began to relax and allow herself the luxury of enjoying being alone with him in the night. She took the opportunity to look around her, to see what he loved so much about riding on a motorcycle.
The sea air felt cool on her face and when she lifted her chin, tears formed in her eyes from the wind. They were out riding on Highway One, moving through the switchbacks above the sea. She looked down at the frothing water, amazed at how close the ocean seemed, dazzled by the way the spray looked like gems thrown into the moonlit sky. The water frothed and folded over, rushing at the rocks and then receding. The bike sped past the stretch of rocks and shore near the seal rookery.
Tyson pulled onto one of the many roads that wound up toward the higher bluffs. She was familiar with the coastline and knew the views were breathtaking from the few enormous properties in the area. He slowed as they approached an imposing set of six-foot iron gates. Pulling out a small remote from his pocket, he pointed it and the gates swung inward and he proceeded down a long drive. Impressive grounds flanked the driveway on either side, rolling lawns dotted with lush banks of flowers and shrubs, all meticulously setting off the huge two-story house at the end of the drive. The entire front of the house was glass. It rose up over the cliff, facing out to sea, designed to blend in with the landscape around it.
Tyson stopped a few yards from the circle leading to the triple garage. He pulled off his helmet and looked down at her. "What do you think, Libby? Isn't this beautiful?"
It wasn't just the ocean views, or the house built with the line of the coast in mind, and the series of wide covered decks, but also the gardens surrounding the house, the wind-swept trees and the wildness of the boul
ders and meadows. The pathways were well lit and led into small private alcoves, a flower garden bursting with blossoms leading to the sea itself. This wasn't just beauty. It was . . . serenity.
Libby slid off the motorcycle and removed her own helmet, waiting a moment to get her legs back under her as she turned in a circle to take in the house and grounds. "It is beautiful, Ty. I had no idea this was here."
"It has a separate guest house. I really liked that about it. The house is on two acres. The land is mostly rolling hills and meadows."
"Are you thinking of buying it?" She hadn't noticed a For Sale sign at the entrance.
"I already bought it. The day after Jonas was shot. I thought a lot about you, Libby, and how we're so different from other people and it occurred to me that you needed me. I've never been needed."
The breath stilled in her lungs. Libby slowly tilted her head to look up at him. "I need you?"
He took her hand. "Yes, you do. After I realized maybe your family might be gifted, it shook my confidence for a minute or two . . ."
"That long?" Libby's smile was faint. She felt faint. She wasn't ready for what he was going to say. The underlying pain in his heart was apparent to her, although she was certain he wasn't admitting it to himself. She wanted to run, but she wanted to hold him, to keep him safe.
Tyson tucked her hair behind her ear. "You don't know how to say no to people. They use you up, Libby. I'm very good at saying no. You fly all over the world helping out, but you really don't have a home or a life for yourself. I can offer you those things. I can offer this." His hand swept around to include the gardens and house. "I can offer you a sanctuary."
Libby couldn't look away from his face. His features were etched with lines she'd never noticed before. His eyes were dark with shadows. He looked curiously vulnerable and yet very determined. It took everything she had not to wrap her arms around him and hold him close to her.
"Tyson, you hardly know me," she said as gently as she could, all the while remembering that her sisters had said nearly the same thing to her. He was right. She might not want to admit it to herself, but she did have a difficult time setting boundaries.
Dangerous Tides Page 19
