Not Even if You Begged

by Francis Ray

  “Perfect.” She closed the lid on the container of potato salad for him and put it inside the basket. “I can meet you there.”

  He gave her the address of the condominium. “I’ll give your name to security so you can park your car in the underground parking. From there, you can take the elevator to the first floor and I’ll meet you in the lobby.”

  “I’ve seen those. They’re beautiful. Quite a view of the Ashley River.” She closed the top of the wicker basket.

  “Patrick bought the condo from our niece because of the marina for his boat. He met Brianna when she was moving in.” Simon propped his hand on the hamper. “From the moment they met, he knew she was the one.”

  Maureen remembered the zip of sexual heat when she first saw Simon. She wanted to blame it on pure sexual attraction, but she knew that wasn’t the extent of it. “Sometimes it happens that way.”

  “Yes, it does.” His voice dropped two octaves, the sound arousing her.

  Time to end this. “I’ll see you to the door.”

  “Always the perfect hostess.” Picking up the hamper, he reached for her arm. “I hope you sleep better tonight.”

  “I’m sure I will.” If she didn’t have erotic dreams about him that left her achy. Stepping away from him, she unlocked the second lock and opened the front door. “Good night.”

  “Good night, and thank you.” He switched the basket to the hand farthest away from her.

  “I should be thanking you,” she said. “I wasn’t in a very good mood before you arrived.”

  “Glad to be of help.” He leaned over and brushed his lips gently across hers, then straightened. “If you can’t sleep and want to talk, call me.”

  The kiss was incredibly sweet. She wanted more. She swallowed before she could talk. “I-I’ll be fine.”

  He smiled, deepening his dimples. “Good night, Maureen.”

  She closed the door because she knew he’d want her securely inside before he was off the steps. That point had been one of the lessons for single women. Leaning against the door, she pressed her trembling fingertips to her lips. She knew he’d be a good kisser.

  She couldn’t wait for Sunday.

  The best-laid plans.

  After the incident with Maureen in her kitchen, Traci had fully intended to keep the meeting with Ryan strictly business that night. This, in essence, meant she was not going to be moved by his good looks, his smile, or the way his touch made her feel.

  She’d failed miserably on all counts, had seen her downfall coming when he’d met her at the restaurant. No man should look that good in a black polo shirt that showed off an impressive set of pecs or sinful jeans that caressed and molded his strong, muscular thighs.

  She might have been able to hold it together if he hadn’t been in such a sunny mood. Yet, looking back on the time she’d been around him, he was usually easygoing, enjoying life to the fullest. It wasn’t likely that a man in his field who specialized in high-risk pregnancies was afraid of risks. Unfortunately, he was also inquisitive.

  “Being a lawyer must help out a lot in your business.” His elbows propped on the small table, he waited for her answer.

  “It does.” She picked up a deep-fried onion ring and bit. “How about you? Have you always wanted to go into the medical field?”

  “Yes,” he answered her. “I didn’t know I wanted to specialize in obstetrics until a classmate’s mother died in childbirth. People often forget that pregnancy and childbirth carry risks.”

  Ryan believed in what he did and wouldn’t have done anything else. She envied him that certainty. “Because of you, people have lived who might not have.”

  “I might do the diagnostics, prescriptions, and surgery, but a higher power heals.”

  She hadn’t expected him to be modest. The people she was around had egos the size of Texas … which proved she spent too much time around the wrong people. “Maureen said you volunteer at a prenatal clinic for teens one day a week. That must take from your private practice.”

  He shrugged carelessly. “I became a doctor to help people.”

  So Ryan was more than handsome; he also cared about his fellow man. He couldn’t have been more unlike Dante, who was ruled by his quest for the almighty dollar. He’d chased women, but never allowed them to get in the way of making money.

  “We can always use more volunteers.” He sipped his tea, staring at her over the rim of the glass. “The Sisterhood stops by almost every week.”

  “I don’t know.” Dante wasn’t the only one who’d liked money. But she told herself she wanted it for a different reason … to show her mother that she had succeeded in spite of her.

  “Think about it,” he said. “The clinic isn’t going anyplace.”

  “Hello, Ryan.”

  Ryan stiffened, then slowly glanced up to the attractive woman standing by their table. She wore a fashionable black suit that fit her slim body perfectly. His mouth flattened into a hard line. The air seemed charged with tension.

  The woman turned away from Ryan and extended her hand to Traci. “I’m Elisa Thomas, an old friend of Ryan’s.”

  Traci glanced at the still-silent Ryan, then shook hands with the woman. “Traci Evans. Ryan’s mother and I are neighbors.”

  “Oh.” Elisa stared down at Ryan. “Ryan has so many friends. My father is the chief-of-staff at Memorial Hospital, where Ryan sends the majority of his patients.”

  Traci tried to figure out what was going on. Ryan wasn’t the rude or silent type. The friction between them was obvious. An old love gone bad? She was certainly his type: thin, attractive, cultured. Had she cheated? Somehow Traci didn’t think Ryan was the cheating type. “Are you in the medical field?” Traci asked.

  “I’m a psychiatrist. Ryan sought my consultation for a couple of his patients,” she said. “We make a good team.”

  Ryan’s hands on top of the table clenched. “Traci, are you ready to leave?”

  Definitely something of a romantic nature. “Yes.”

  Elisa’s smile wavered, but her gaze stayed on Ryan. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Ryan. Good-bye, Traci.”

  Ryan placed enough money on the table to pay their bill plus a very generous tip, then came to his feet as soon as the woman moved away. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “All right.” Whatever Elisa had done, Ryan wasn’t ready to forgive her. Traci, who until a couple of days ago would have jumped with glee at a woman sticking it to Ryan, found herself annoyed at Elisa and sorry for him.

  Ryan was boiling.

  Elisa must have an internal tracking system! Almost every time he went out, she was there. Why couldn’t she get the message that he didn’t want anything to do with her? After they’d gotten into a heated argument in the doctor’s lounge at the hospital today, he’d decided the best way to handle her was to ignore her.

  She’d latched on to him a month ago after her date had too much to drink at a party of mutual friends. Ryan had taken Elisa home. He didn’t think anything about meeting her for lunch the next day as a thank-you.

  It was the biggest mistake of his life.

  She’d started calling and showing up at his office, wanting to go out again. He’d tried to be nice and told her he just wanted them to be friends. It hadn’t worked. She just wouldn’t go away.

  Walking Traci to her car, he decided he wasn’t going to make another mistake. If her marriage had been in trouble when her husband died, the probability was high that trust was an issue. She wouldn’t like being lied to.

  “Traci.” He put his hand on hers on the handle of the door. He felt a slight trembling and moved his away. “I need to tell you something.”

  “About you and Elisa?” she asked.

  “There’s nothing between us. But she made me realize that, although we might think we have a good reason for doing something, the other person might not agree,” he told her.

  “Ryan, I don’t understand a thing you just said.”

  “Sorry.” There was patience
in her eyes. He just hoped she’d be as understanding after he finished. “I asked you out to help with Mother’s birthday party because I wanted your help, but I also wanted to take you out and I didn’t think you’d accept otherwise.”

  He watched helplessly as her eyes hardened, her body stiffened. “I apologize for the deception. I couldn’t think of anything else. I wanted to take you out. I still do.”

  “Sure. Just as soon as hell freezes over, give me a call.” Opening the door, she got into the car, then slammed the door.

  “Traci!”

  She spun out of the parking lot with the tires squealing. Ryan cursed under his breath and ran to his car to follow her home. As he did so, he saw Elisa at the edge of the parking lot, a smile on her face.

  Ryan had made a fool out of her.

  Traci pressed down on the accelerator and the car answered her request for speed. The speedometer inched toward 80miles per hour. The only thing she hated worse than being lied to was being made a fool of. She sped through the signal light as it went to yellow.

  Her mother had promised she’d only have to stay a few days with her grandparents, that she’d come for her birthday, for her programs at school. Each time it was a lie, but stupid Traci had kept wishing and praying that her mother would finally make the eighteen-mile drive that separated them. Her stepsister, Carla, got all the love, the affection. There was never any left over for Traci.

  She thought she had gotten smarter. The next light flashed to red before she could go through. She hit the brakes. The car screeched to a stop.

  A car horn blasted next to her. She ignored it.

  “Traci. Slow down.”

  She looked at Ryan in the lane next to her. “Go to hell,” she said, then gunned the Benz. Her grandfather had taught her to drive before her legs were long enough to reach the pedals. Why couldn’t his daughter have loved and cared for her as much?

  Traci turned into her driveway and stopped by the walkway leading to the house. Jumping out of the car, she rushed to the door and opened it just as Ryan quickly exited his car. She took great pleasure in slamming the front door in his face.

  “Traci. Open the door. Traci!”

  “Leave, Ryan, or I’m calling the police. Elisa doesn’t know how lucky she is.” Not waiting for an answer, Traci snapped off the light she’d left on in the foyer and headed for the stairs. She never wanted to see Ryan again.

  He’d blown it!

  Ryan considered ringing the doorbell again, but knew it would be useless. Traci was pissed at him and she wasn’t going to get over it any time soon … if ever. No, he had to believe that she’d calm down in a few days and listen to reason.

  Hands shoved into the pockets of his slacks, he walked to his car. The lights in the master bedroom were on and he imagined Traci jerking off her jacket and slinging it on her bed, then reaching for the button on her skirt. He grabbed the car’s door handle before he let his mind wander further.

  Starting the motor, he backed out of the driveway, thought briefly of stopping to see his mother, but kept going. She’d know something was wrong, and although he thought she might be suspicious that something was going on between him and Traci, he wasn’t ready to discuss it yet.

  If Traci didn’t get over being furious with him and forgive him, there might not be anything to discuss … except his stupidity. He’d already figured out she had trust issues. Perhaps he should have waited to tell her. Or asked her straight out for a date in the first place. He turned into his condo and parked.

  He’d lived in the three-story unit since he’d come back to Charleston to set up private practice seven years ago after completing his residency. There were newer and certainly more expensive condos on the ocean, but he liked it here because everyone knew everybody and they looked out for each other.

  Getting out, he walked through the flower-filled courtyard. All fifteen owners paid $25 a month to a lawn service to maintain the grounds.

  “Ryan.”

  He stiffened, then watched Elisa emerge from the shadows of the arbor, which was draped with deep purple clematis. “Why can’t you leave me the hell alone?”

  “Ryan, please,” her voice trembled. “I love you. Don’t do this to me.”

  “You—” He abruptly broke off and tried to calm down. The more he yelled, the more emotional she’d become. “Elisa, you need help.”

  “I need you.” She began unbuttoning her blouse. “I need you to make love to me.”

  Shocked, appalled, he caught her hands. “Elisa. Don’t.”

  “Why can’t you see how good it would be between us?” she said, tears glistening in her eyes.

  As angry as she made him, he knew she needed help. “Why don’t we call your father, and he can come get you.”

  “No.” She jerked away, stumbling back. “He’d try to keep us apart.”

  That was the idea. “Elisa, go home.”

  Anger stole across her face. “You want that overweight sow you were with tonight.”

  He crossed to her in two long strides and grasped her arm. He trembled with rage. “I want you gone, or I’m calling the police and your father.”

  “I’ll make you sorry for choosing her over me,” she cried, her eyes cold.

  Fear coursed through him. His hands clenched around her arms. “Bother her in any way, and I can guarantee you won’t like the consequences.”

  She trembled, her head lowered. “I just want you to love me.”

  His hand uncurled and he stepped back. He gave her the only truth he could. “I’m sorry. You have to listen. I could never love you.”

  “Yes, you will, Ryan. One day you’ll love me.” Turning, she ran out of the courtyard.

  Ryan blew out a breath. He had wanted to handle it discreetly between the two of them, and not involve her father. That wasn’t going to happen. Elisa was obviously unstable.

  Six months ago he had referred a patient to Elisa, a fashion model who was having difficulty coping with the scars from her C-section. Elisa had helped the woman. She’d been good at what she did. Two months ago when Elisa had taken a medical leave to write a book, he hadn’t thought anything about it. Now he considered that might not be the whole story. Since she wasn’t seeing patients, he hadn’t pushed the issue.

  Because of Elisa, time might have run out for him and Traci.

  C h a p t e r

  8

  Occasionally too much information caused problems.

  “Once a thief, always a thief,” Henrietta declared.

  “Henrietta, that’s not true. People can change for the better.” Maureen had debated if she should tell Henrietta the full story of why Jason was going to work there, then decided she didn’t have a choice.

  Maureen had called Jason’s mother again the night before to try and tell her how impossible it was for Maureen to hire him. She might as well have saved her breath. His mother wouldn’t even entertain paying one cent on the damaged inkwell, let alone the inkstand. Jason would be there after class each weekday until Maureen said otherwise. Maureen had been left listening to a dial tone.

  She had come close to forgetting the entire episode. Two things stopped her: Jason’s talent and the fact that he had never stolen from her before. If it was possible to steer him in the right direction, Maureen was going to do it. For that, she needed Henrietta’s cooperation. There was no way Maureen could get by without explaining why he was there every day. As expected, her sales associate was a hard sell.

  “You’re too trusting.” Henrietta folded her thin arms over her hot pink jacket. She loved bright colors. “On the other hand, I plan to keep an eye on him. If he knows what’s good for him, he had better not steal anything again.”

  Maureen blew out a frustrated breath. Henrietta, like Traci, didn’t give her trust easily. Both women’s problems stemmed from a man. “He didn’t steal anything.”

  “He wanted to and, in my book, that makes him a thief,” she said emphatically. “Speaking of the devil. Well, is he just going
to stand there?”

  Jason, head bowed, stood with his hand on the door handle. “He’s probably embarrassed.”

  “He should be,” Henrietta said without a trace of sympathy.

  “Everyone can make a mistake,” Maureen said. “I called Principal Hayes at his high school yesterday afternoon and learned Jason has never been in trouble at school.”

  “With twelve hundred students he might not remember that boy,” Henrietta said.

  “He’d remember the ones who came to his office,” Maureen said. “And Jason wasn’t one of them.”

  “Maybe he was flying low on the radar or had a teacher too tired or overworked to write a referral.” Henrietta’s eyes narrowed. “I’m watching him now.”

  Maureen took Henrietta by her thin shoulders and turned her until they faced each other. “That’s exactly what we can’t do.”

  “What?”

  “If you care about me, you’ll give him a chance,” Maureen said.

  “But—”

  “How many times have you been judged harshly because you were black, a woman, had gray hair?” Maureen talked over Henrietta and pressed her point.

  Henrietta’s mouth tightened. “This isn’t the same.”

  “Close enough. Give Jason a chance. If he blows it, I’ll let you have first crack at him, then it’s my turn.” Maureen stuck out her hand. “Deal?”

  “He’ll probably steal us blind,” Henrietta said, but she lifted her hand.

  “I’m betting he won’t. If he ever works up the nerve to come inside.” Maureen frowned.

  “Are you going to go get him?”

  “Nope. He should be embarrassed. Let’s finish with the inventory.” Maureen picked up the clipboard just as the door finally opened and Jason came in. “Good morning, Jason,” Maureen greeted.

  “Good morning.” He glanced at her, then away.

  “I’d like you to meet Henrietta Rudley, my friend and assistant,” Maureen introduced, unobtrusively nudging Henrietta.

  “Good morning, Jason.”

  “Good morning.”

  Maureen gave Jason the clipboard. “You can help with inventory.”