"Jenna." His voice was deep and gruff. "About that kiss today in the elevator." He was looking into her eyes.
"What about it?" She could feel her face burning. She couldn't hold his gaze, it was too intense. She looked past him, out the uncurtained window.
"I want- -" he began, but her cry of alarm interrupted what he'd been about to say.
"Look."
Fergus's red BMW was completing a slow and precarious turn onto the street. Willie was hunched behind the wheel, and Barney was sitting up proudly in the passenger seat.
5.
"Good god, he's driving my car." The horror in Fergus's voice echoed what Jenna was feeling as she watched the red BMW inch slowly out of the driveway with Willie at the wheel and Barney sitting tall in the passenger seat.
"Willie." At a dead run, Fergus tore out of the house with Jenna right behind him. He catapulted down the walk just as the car negotiated a shaky right turn into the street and began to accelerate in short, jerky bursts.
"Willie, brake, use the brake," Fergus bellowed as he raced along the road, trying to overtake the convertible. It was picking up speed at an alarming rate.
Pounding along behind, Jenna was praying hard. She knew it was only a matter of blocks before the quiet street became a main thoroughfare. Willie couldn't possibly manage in traffic. Please, God, don't let there be a terrible accident. . .
She had a stitch in her side, and just as she was forced to slow, she heard Fergus holler, "Willie, slow down, you're going to hit that van- -"
A resounding crash and the screech of grating metal sent Jenna pelting down the sidewalk again. The BMW had smashed into a gray van parked at the curb. The front right fender and hood of the sports car were crumbled, the back of the van dented. By the time Jenna reached the scene, Barney had already leaped out of the car and was running in circles, alternately barking and whining. Neighbors were pouring out of their houses.
People spoke in excited voices, and the owner of the van was calling 911 on a cell phone, but all Jenna could hear was Willie sobbing. Terror brought a coppery taste to her mouth. Fergus was kneeling on the seat, conducting a quick and thorough examination of the frightened boy.
"Is he- -” Jenna wanted to help, but there was no room.
"I think he's okay," Fergus said. His voice was cool and professional, his skilled hands quick and gentle, but Jenna could see the tension in the line of his jaw, the tendons standing out in his neck.
"I'm. .sorry, Doc Fergus, I'm. . sorry. . ." Willie's face was ashen, and sobs made him hiccup. "I'm okay, honest, I don't hurt anywhere, I didn't hit my head. Check Barney, he fell off the seat."
And Fergus was doing exactly that when the fire truck and the police arrived.
For a period of time, controlled chaos reined.
When the firemen were certain there were no injuries, they popped the hood of the BMW with a crowbar and disconnected the battery because of a faint chance of fire, a procedure that Fergus could barely stand to watch. After years of craving, he'd bought the sleek little car just three months before, and watching the tow truck drag it away gave him a sick feeling in his gut.
Having the police grill him as to why Willie had access to the keys was humiliating, and it was long past dusk by the time the two constables finally had all the proper forms completed.
Jenna had taken Willie back to the house earlier, and by the time Fergus got there he was certain of two things. He wasn't a drinking man, but tonight he needed liquor. And he'd be grateful if he didn't have to lay eyes on Willie, preferably ever again, but certainly not tonight. At first, he'd been terrified that the boy was injured, but when he realized Willie was fine, fury had taken the place of concern. The kid had wrecked his car. Fergus wasn't certain he'd be able to control his temper if he had to confront Willie now.
The house was quiet and, at first glance, empty, but Jenna's car was still parked in front, and he found her in the back yard, slumped in a lawn chair, head back, eyes closed.
"Jenna." He was still very angry, but there was comfort in having her there.
She looked up at him, and in the soft lights from the pool he could see the uncertainty in her brown eyes. "I put Willie to bed." Her voice was soft and weary. "The dog's sleeping with him. I fed them both, the barbecue's still hot if you're hungry."
"Later. Would you like a drink?"
She looked at him for a long moment before she nodded. "That would be good. A glass of the white wine you have in the fridge, please."
He poured her wine and made himself a Scotch, a stiff one. Outside, he pulled a lawn chair close to hers and sank into it.
She took a sip of her wine and gave him a sidelong glance. "Is there much damage to your car?"
"It'll never be the same again." He blew out a frustrated breath. "Until today I could never understand anyone hitting a kid, but so help me. . ." he shook his head and took a long slug of Scotch.
"I know the feeling well. My son once disconnected all the wires in my ignition system, it cost the earth to have it fixed. I felt like beating him black and blue."
He was finally able to smile at her a little. "But you didn't."
"Nope. I sat him down and told him that having ADD was no excuse for bad behavior, and I asked him what he thought a suitable punishment should be."
Her dimples flashed, and inside of Fergus lust replaced anger. She was so damned sexy.
"And?"
"He said he'd wash the car for me for a year, but he also thought he should learn about ignition systems. The mechanic who fixed the car volunteered to show him in return for a few home cooked dinners."
A stab of what could only be jealousy shot through him. His voice was gruff. "I never got around to asking if you're seeing anyone."
She laughed. "You mean the mechanic? Her name was Amanda. As for the male species, the answer is no."
Relief made him bold. He reached across and trapped her long fingered hand in his. "I'm glad."
She didn't pull away. Instead she took another sip of the wine and her voice hardened.
She turned and looked straight into his eyes, challenging him.
"Would you choose to be around a kid like Willie full time, Fergus? Because he and Ryan are a lot alike."
6.
There had been moments in Fergus's life when a single decision determined his future.
He'd gone into medicine instead of law. He'd chosen pediatrics over obstetrics. He'd agonized over them, but those decisions seemed easy now compared to the question Jenna had just asked him.
Could he be around a kid like Willie full time? Her hand was in his, and he readjusted his grip, so that her fingers and his were intertwined.
"By myself, I know I couldn't do it," he admitted. "But if you were part of the package, Jenna, I'd be willing to try. It would be tough, but I'd give it my best shot."
He could tell from the surprise on her face that it wasn't the answer she'd expected, and he watched surprise turn to dismissal.
"You'd put us on trial, and when the going got rough, you'd walk," she accused. "I've been through that before, I'm not about to try it again." She tried to pull her hand away, but he wouldn't let her.
"Do you always decide the future on the basis of the past? Because that doesn't allow for anything new, Jenna. Where's that courage I've always admired in you?"
Her chin shot up. "Are you accusing me of being a coward?"
"Not if you're willing to give me a chance. I'd like to try, Jenna."
He waited, but she didn't answer. Frustrated, he got up and pulled her to her feet. He drew her into his embrace, relieved when she didn't pull away. Sexual tension smoldered to life, and he heard the sudden catch in her breathing.
"Remember that kiss in the elevator?" He tipped her chin up and lowered his head, taking his time. Her lips parted under his, and his heart gave a mighty thump when she leaned into him.
7.
His kiss warmed her for an instant, and then it burned. Raw need uncurled in the
pit of her stomach. She'd been alone too long, but the old hurts carved deep into her heart didn't allow for trust, no matter how convincing his words.
So forget about long term, a desperate voice inside her urged. Take the passion and run with it. Grab these few days and nights and enjoy them. There doesn't have to be a future.
She slid her hands up into his thick, soft hair and gasped as his lips traveled from her mouth to her earlobe, along the line of her jaw, down the arch of her neck. His strong hands cupped her aching breasts, traced the curve of waist and hips, and the liquid heat in her belly grew incandescent in the instant before he stepped back.
"I'm going to curse myself for every kind of a fool, Jenna. I am already." The gravelly tension in his voice and the uneven cadence of his breathing told her what the action cost him. "I need to know what your answer is before I can take you to my bed. See, I'm not interested in just a one night stand with you."
Damn the man. How dare he turn the tables on her, demand a commitment she wasn't able to give? Every soft place in her body cried out for him, but she couldn't lie, not to him or to herself. Unable to speak, she shook her head, avoiding his eyes. Desolate, she turned towards the house and her empty bedroom.
"Wait." He was beside her again, but he didn't touch her. "Sit down and talk to me, please. At least we can be friends." There was touching humility in his voice. "I'm not going to be able to sleep for a while, are you?"
The idea was laughable. Every nerve ending was on fire. Still mute, she shook her head again.
"I bought some of that herbal tea you drink at the hospital. I'll boil the kettle."
The few moments he was gone gave her a chance to steady her breathing, but she was glad of the darkness when he handed her a steaming mug and sank into the chair next to hers. She was afraid her face would reveal the tangled, conflicting emotions she couldn't seem to contain or control.
"Please tell me about your son."
"Why?" At work, when she'd talked about Ryan, Fergus had been critical of the choices she'd made regarding medication. She couldn't get into another argument with him now. She felt emotionally bereft, as if she might burst into tears at the slightest provocation.
"One single afternoon with Willie has been a humbling experience for me." Fergus sighed. "I made sure he took his medication, but it's obvious that Ritalin doesn't always work the way I thought it did. I want to know about alternatives. Tell me what's it been like for you, having a son with ADD. How did you first recognize the problem?"
His honest interest calmed her, helped her to relax a little.
"It took a long time to admit that Ryan was different," she began. "As an infant, he didn't like to be held or cuddled. He was verbal at a really early age, talking in sentences by the time he was 18 months, but he was almost impossible to control. By the time I'd cleaned the play dough out of the vacuum hose, he'd have the goldfish in the bathroom sink seeing if they could swim in my bubble bath. When it came time for kindergarten, he couldn't adjust. He was labeled hyperactive and by Grade One, diagnosed ADD and put on Ritalin. It helped calm him down in school, but at home he was a holy terror. His father left us that year."
"Because of Ryan?" Fergus's voice was filled with compassion.
"Pretty much. Greg was a strict disciplinarian, we fought all the time about how to handle Ryan. Kids with ADD don't respond well to autocratic rules."
"Does he see Ryan at all?"
Jenna shook her head. "Never. It was actually easier after he left us, because I could try different approaches and get Ryan involved in his own treatments. It's his body, he knows what works and what doesn't." She went on to describe the dietary supplements that had helped, and the alternative treatments such as biofeedback and neuromuscular integration that had resulted in remarkable behavioral changes.
"He sounds like a smart kid. He's lucky to have you for a mother."
"Thank you." She sighed and took a sip of her tea. It was gratifying to have Fergus compliment her. She told herself she was relieved now that he'd stopped them before things had gone any further.
"So what's he gonna think when he grows up and realizes you gave up your life for him, Jenna?"
The words were like bullets aimed straight at her heart, and she gasped at their cruelty.
In the same quiet, remorseless voice, Fergus went on, "How's Ryan gonna feel when he figures out how you used him to keep yourself from taking a chance on love?"
8.
"How dare you accuse me of--of hiding behind my son?" Jenna was furious, but most of all she felt betrayed. She'd believed Fergus when he said he wanted to hear about Ryan. She'd fallen into a cruel trap by opening up to him. "What gives you the right to psychoanalyze me? You- -" her voice trembled, and the tears she'd been holding back filled her eyes and her throat. "You're not my doctor."
"No, but I want to be your lover, and I can't get past the walls you've built to protect yourself from me." In one fluid motion, he was out of his chair and beside hers. He tried to take her hand and she snatched it away, using her palms to swipe at the tears rolling down her cheeks.
"Ahh, Jenna, please don't cry." He pulled a crumbled tissue from the pocket of his shorts and gave it to her. "I'm not deliberately trying to hurt you, God knows that's the last thing I want to do. But I see you doing exactly what I've done myself, and it's such a bloody waste of time and energy. And passion, Jenna. It's one hell of a waste of passion."
His tone was vehement, and through her tears she saw the desolation in his eyes. She wanted to get up and run far away from him. She would in just a moment, but first the pain so clearly etched on his face compelled her to hear what he was about to say.
"I was married once." His tone was flat and matter of fact. "She was my high school sweetheart, I adored her, there'd never been anyone else for either of us. I was driving to work one morning, she was with me. There was an accident, a truck broadsided the car. She died at the scene. She was two months pregnant with our baby." He looked into Jenna's eyes and held her gaze. "For years, I wouldn't let anyone get close to me, man or woman. It was lonely, but I swore I'd never get hurt that much again. I told myself I was being faithful to my wife's memory, but I was just using her as a shield."
Jenna knew about hurt, about loneliness. She'd filled the empty spaces in her life with her son and his urgent needs. What was so bad about that? Fergus had no children, he didn't know the first thing about parenting. . .
"It was a patient," he went on, "a little girl, who made me understand how wrong it is to use a loved one as an excuse to hide from emotional involvement. Her mother gave up her marriage, her career, and all but abandoned her other children to care for this kid. And one day the girl told me how miserable, how responsible, how mad, that made her feel. It was like a light bulb going on, because I saw I'd been doing the same thing, just in a different fashion."
Was that what she was doing? Against her will, Jenna remembered Ryan asking when she was going to find them a stepfather. She'd laughed and hugged him. All I need is another guy around here to take care of. But what if her son was really saying he needed someone to shoulder the burden of caring for her?
Going off to camp, he'd asked repeatedly if she was going to be okay on her own. She'd been touched, but now this damned man was forcing her to see her son's concern another way. She didn't want to, but she couldn't ignore the truth.
Fergus crouched beside her. He put one knee down on the grass, leaned an elbow on the other.
He had such good, strong legs. Well-shaped legs. Sexy legs.
"I've dated a fair bit since I smartened up, lots of really nice women, but there's never been the chemistry that's between us."
He was right about chemistry. Right now she yearned to touch his hair, to feel his arms around her. God help her, she even loved the way he smelled, a little sweaty, a lot Fergus.
"I'd like a chance to get to know Ryan. I'd like to court you, Jenna. But if the answer's still no, I won't ask again." His smile was rueful. "A guy
can only take so much rejection. So what's the verdict?"
Fear nearly choked her, but longing made her tremble. He was offering everything she'd stopped dreaming was possible. She pressed a hand to her chest, in a spot that suddenly ached. He'd mentioned courage, but he couldn't know how much it took to even consider saying yes.
"Holllleee." Willie's voice made them both jump. He was standing just outside the deck door, wearing green pajamas that he'd long since outgrown. "Doc Fergus, you askin' Jenna to marry you? I saw a guy do that on TV, on his knees like that. Why do you hafta get down on your knees to do it?"
As he got to his feet, Fergus let out a sound that was pure exasperation. "Willie, what are you doing out of bed? It's almost midnight."
"I woke up and couldn't go back to sleep. And then I heard you guys out here, so I thought I'd come and tell you I was really sorry about your car, Doc Fergus. Soon as I grow up and get rich, I'll buy you another one, I promise."
"You'll have to do a lot better than that." Fergus's voice was stern, and Jenna was suddenly on edge. Whatever happened now with Willie would be a good indication of how Fergus would react to Ryan.
"That car was expensive, and what you did was irresponsible. Don't you think you should come up with the money to repair it?"
Jenna shot Fergus an incredulous look. Willie did, too.
"Yeah, I guess, but I'm just a little kid." Willie's voice trembled. "How could I ever get enough money to fix a car like that?"
"You could work it off." Fergus still sounded stern. "Can you do a job, and do it properly, if you're shown how?"
"I helped a guy build a fence once, I did okay. Except for painting, I spilled some."
Jenna wanted to smile, but she held back, wondering where Fergus was going with this.
"There's a lot of work to be done on this house. The deck's rotting, the steps need rebuilding. I could use a helper."
Mercury Rising Page 2
