Saying, “I do…” Privately, Allison still couldn’t believe Kane truly intended them to marry. This couldn’t be happening to her.
But it was. And the moment Kane got her home, he demonstrated just how real it was, taking her straight to bed. He dragged the pins from her hair and plunged his hands into her tidy knot, pulling the heavy mass into a tangle of free-flowing tresses. He stripped away first her clothing and then his, and laid her down on his enormous bed and covered her with his body, taking time only to use the protection he’d finally bought that afternoon.
Allison wrapped her arms and legs around him as he entered her urgently, wonder dissolving into ecstasy as she gave herself fully to his demands. His intensity lit a similar frantic need within her as well, and within minutes, they found a wrenching satisfaction. But unlike the first night, Kane rolled away from her immediately, lying with an arm flung over his eyes.
The action startled and dismayed her. He almost seemed to be radiating Do Not Disturb signals, and she felt naked and exposed, so she pulled the sheet over herself and lay quietly beside him, wondering what to do or say. Had she done something wrong? Or was he bored with her already? There was a palpable tension in the air and though she longed to ask him what was wrong, it was clear that he didn’t want to talk. It bothered her increasingly until she thought she might scream if the silence wasn’t broken soon.
Finally, with a huge sigh, Kane removed his arm from over his eyes. He reached for her, seeming surprised at the sheet between them, and pulled her into his arms. Then he flipped the light covers up over them both. “Go to sleep,” he said gruffly.
Something still felt wrong, but he was holding her, cuddling her against him and she felt better almost against her will. She was tired after working her four days, and before she knew it, her eyelids drifted closed and she slept.
Kane lay in the darkness, and a feeling very close to desperation swept through him. The small woman in his arms was driving him insane. What was it about her that he suddenly couldn’t stop thinking about? He’d hustled her out of his mother’s early because he couldn’t wait to have her again, and when they’d walked through the door of his home, he’d fallen on her like a starving wolf on a fresh kill. This insatiable sexual appetite, this neediness, wasn’t something he’d ever experienced before. It wasn’t a comfortable feeling, and he didn’t like it. Didn’t like it at all. If they’d been at her house, he’d have gotten up and left afterward, reclaimed some of the personal space he seemed to have lost since last night when she’d caught him with his defenses down. At least, it was comforting to tell himself that’s what he would have done.
He looked down at her, asleep in the circle of his arms. Her hair spilled over him, chaining him in place, and the scent of her soap mingled with the musky, after-sex fragrance that was uniquely hers, and he could feel himself growing aroused again.
But he didn’t move, didn’t caress and claim her as he longed to do. They said denial was good for the soul and he might as well start improving his right now, because he damn well wasn’t going to be ruled by his hormones or the brain in his pants that frequently argued with the one in his head. Ever since he’d been very small, he’d had to be the strong one, the member of his family on whom the others had leaned.
Not the one who needed to lean.
Gabrielle had depended on him to care for her after school until their mother had got home from work. He’d found a part-time job as soon as he was old enough so that his mother wouldn’t have to worry about where his college education was coming from. Even after his mother had decided to move back here to San Antonio to be near Gabrielle, her husband, Wyatt, and their new daughter, she’d been hesitant to make the move without him. Not because she couldn’t take care of herself, but because it had become second nature for her to turn to Kane before making any major decisions. And so he’d looked into getting a residency here at County, and he’d joined her, building a home close enough to be nearby without being too obvious about it.
He’d never needed anyone to coddle him in his life. And just because he thought he could get all too used to being cared for and fussed over by Allison didn’t mean he was going to let that happen. He despised himself for the weakness he’d shown, whining to her about his family problems, and he was determined not to do it again.
The next morning, he did rounds and let her sleep in.
It was an odd feeling to walk out of his house knowing she was asleep in his bed, recalling the way her hair spilled over his pillow, her lips parted slightly in utter relaxation. He’d gone in to say goodbye before he’d left, just as a courtesy to let her know he was leaving. But when he’d sat down on the edge of the mattress, she’d reached up for him and the sheet fell away from her breasts. He found himself pressing her back against the pillows as he fondled her soft flesh, his mouth deepening the light kiss he’d intended to give her as he’d skimmed one hand down over her silky curves to cup her bottom.
It had been a toss-up there for a minute as to whether he would make love to her again or leave her, but then he remembered his resolve not to be ruled by his gonads so he’d disentangled himself and gotten the hell out of there before he made a fool of himself again.
It was an uneventful day at the hospital. He finished by early afternoon and returned to the house, where Allison was up and about by now. She made him a quick lunch, and then he took her to a jewelry store in the North Star Mall his cousin Vanessa had recommended several years ago when he’d bought his mother a necklace as a Christmas gift.
Allison was hesitant about choosing rings but after he picked out several and made her try them on, she finally chose a contemporary set, a solitaire with a matching wedding band that slid over it and locked it into place. It looked classy and elegant on her long fingers and as he looked at it, he imagined those fingers on his body, doing the things he’d so recently taught her. His body’s immediate response was predictable and annoying, and he vowed he wouldn’t give in to thoughts of sex one more time today.
She bought a simple gold wedding band for him as well, and then they drove to her apartment and began packing her things to move into his house. She was reluctant to let him work at first, but when he made her see he wasn’t going to go away, she told him to start in the living room while she packed her clothes.
Kane boxed her CDs and her stereo system, smiling at the rock ’n’ roll classics that predated her birth. Then he moved on to three shelves of books, again surprised at the kinds of things she’d chosen to keep. She appeared to love science fiction and had extensive collections of nearly a dozen different authors on the same shelves with nursing textbooks and a non-fiction historical section largely centered around the Civil War. Although he was beginning to realize that his bride-to-be was a much more complex person than he’d suspected, he still didn’t really have a clue about what made her tick.
Why did she work so hard to hide her light under the proverbial basket? Underneath her buttoned-down exterior was a woman who loved to let her hair fly free, who drove an eye-popping red, fun little car, who enjoyed rock music and fantastic stories. A woman who responded so passionately to his touch that he could hardly imagine she’d kept her sensuality hidden from him for four years.
He carefully wrapped a stunning collection of over two dozen miniature crystal cats done by a very well-known jeweler who specialized in crystal miniatures. When she walked through to the kitchen once for a drink, he held one up. “This is quite a collection. Have you had them long?”
Allison had her back to him. “Oh, yes.” She stretched on tiptoe to get down two glasses. “There’s one for each year of my life.”
“Gifts?”
She nodded, concentrating on filling the glasses with ice and water, then walking across to offer him one. “My father started it when he bought the first one on the day I was born. He gave me one each year on my birthday.”
She’d said her parents were divorced, and he’d had the impression that her father had disappear
ed from her life. But he must have been wrong. As she returned to her own packing in the bedroom, he continued carefully wrapping each of the cat figurines in a thick padding of tissue. Her father must have cared for her a great deal, to have kept up with a collection like that for all these years.
And then he found the photos. In a cardboard box in the bottom of a sideboard in the dining room, shoved back behind a beautiful set of antique wineglasses, was a shoe-box. He pulled it out to put it in a larger packing crate, lifting the lid idly to see what was in it.
Photos. Neatly stacked from front to back with little tabs every so often indicating the year. They went clear back to the year of her birth and he couldn’t resist pulling one out and sneaking a peek.
There she was, a chubby-cheeked infant sitting in an apple basket, eyes crinkled in happy laughter. She’d been a damned cute baby. Is that what their children would look like?
Another picture showed her in the arms of a smiling woman who had to be her mother. The resemblance was astonishing. Her mother had had the same wealth of hair that Allison possessed, the same sweet smile and pretty eyes. She looked carefree and alluring, and he decided that if Allison ever let herself relax enough, she’d look just like that. Flipping the picture over, he read the note written in a sloping feminine hand: Nesta with Allison, 1 year old.
Another picture showed her mother with a handsome cowboy in a light-colored hat, looking up at him with adoration in her eyes. The man looked into the camera with a confident smile, one arm slung loosely around the woman who hugged his waist, the other thumb hooked into his jeans pocket in a cocky pose. Something about the photo bothered Kane, though he couldn’t quite figure it out. The guy looked as if he came with an attitude, and he wondered if the cowboy was Allison’s father. He checked, but there was nothing written on the back of that one.
Others showed Allison as she grew older. First day of school, the one where she proudly showed a new gap in her teeth. One with an enormous white dog. Picture after picture of a beautiful child growing into a pretty young woman. Then the candid shots stopped abruptly. From the time she entered her teens, there were next to no pictures in the files, only the standard school shots and several yellowed newspaper clippings, evidence that she’d been on the honor roll at her high school.
Even then she’d worn her hair pulled tightly back. She stood in the second or third row, half-obscured by other students in most of the clippings. While other kids were looking straight into the camera with satisfied smiles, Allison’s head was bent and she appeared to be looking at the ground. Making herself invisible. What was he missing? She’d told him her parents had divorced when she was twelve, and he realized the photos stopped right around the same time.
What exactly had happened between her parents that had changed her from a happy, grinning little girl into this serious, self-effacing adult?
He was so absorbed in the pictures that he never heard her come into the room until she said, “Wow. You’ve gotten a lot done…”
The sentence trailed away as she saw what he was looking at, and she made an effort to smile. “Found my checkered past, did you?” But the smile didn’t reach her eyes and her voice was strained. She hurried over and began to shove photos randomly back into the box.
“Are these your parents?” He held up the photo of the man and woman he’d seen earlier.
“Yes.” She didn’t embellish it, didn’t even look at the picture.
“We have something in common, then,” he told her. “My father was a cowboy, too. Although he was a fancy rodeo man.”
“My father, Micah, was a hand on a large ranch near Abilene, where I grew up.” She put the lid on the box.
So she’d grown up near Abilene. It was more than he’d known before.
“Where is your father now?” he asked, eyes narrowing as he saw the way her hands were shaking.
She shrugged, not looking up at him. “He passed away eight months ago.”
Eight months ago. And her mother had died a few years ago…probably during the time he’d known her. And yet she’d never said a word about losing either one of them. He was even more determined to learn more about her past.
He took the box from her and replaced the lid, then matter-of-factly placed it with some of the other things he’d packed, trying to sound casual. “Didn’t you tell me they split up when you were about twelve?”
“I—yes, about twelve. It was a long time ago.” Her voice was trembling now and he wanted to grab her and cuddle her against him until the stiffness left her body and she let herself cry, but he sensed she’d reject such comfort right now.
“That must have been tough,” he said quietly. This was the key, he thought. The key that would unlock the puzzle of his too-quiet, too-cautious, too-careful Allison. But he didn’t want to upset her so badly that she backed away from him. From the skittish way she was acting, she might even cancel their marriage if he pushed her too hard. He didn’t know why he was so sure that her parents’ divorce had made her into the woman she’d become, but he was. And he fully intended to learn why.
But not today. Quickly, he sealed the packing crate and lifted it onto the stack of boxes already waiting by the front door.
Allison had been standing with her back to him. He walked over and put his arms around her, dropping his head to nuzzle at her neck. “Are you ready to take some of this stuff over to your new home?” He’d intended the caress to be comforting, but when she immediately sighed and let herself relax against him, the familiar sexual interest tugged at his senses.
She tilted her head, giving him better access to her soft flesh and he slipped his palms up to cover her breasts, enjoying the shuddering breath she took as he plucked at the rising buds of her nipples beneath the knit shirt she wore. “I—suppose so,” she said.
He waited for her to stop him, to tell him they had work to do, but when she pressed her tight little backside against him and her hands clasped his forearms, he groaned and slid one hand down her body, dragging up the skirt she wore by handfuls until he could feel her satiny belly beneath his hand. He plunged his hand under the edge of her lacy panties and boldly cupped her, finding to his delight that she was hot and wet for him already. His hips were grinding against her buttocks and he tugged until she came down with him to the carpet, spreading her legs for him as he fumbled to free himself from his pants and get the condom he’d finally gotten smart enough to put in his wallet. When he entered her, her back arched and she made the little purring sound in her throat that he was beginning to recognize. Then they were moving together, sweet explosive passion flaring higher and higher.
It wasn’t until much later that he remembered that he wasn’t going to think about sex anymore that day.
Four
The next days passed quickly. Once Kane had made his mother understand that they wanted a small, intimate fast ceremony, Allison was amazed—and a little appalled—at how quickly things came together. A date was set for a Sunday afternoon just a little more than a week away.
Over several lunches that Kane insisted on attending, Miranda consulted Allison about her tastes and ideas.
“But honestly,” Allison said several times, “whatever you think is best will be fine.”
“It’s your wedding, dear,” Miranda said. “I want you to be happy and comfortable with it.”
“Besides,” said Kane, “If you tell her to do whatever she thinks is best, we’re liable to wind up with orchestras and ice sculptures.”
He’d intended to make her smile and she did. But she’d meant what she’d said about Miranda’s planning. Marrying Kane would make her so happy that the ceremony and frills would be completely irrelevant. The only thing that would have thrown her was a crowd, and Kane had made it more than clear to his mother that the wedding was to be a private ceremony with only a few family attending.
Still, she was both thrilled and amazed when Miranda announced that she’d managed to reserve The Little Church of La Villita for the weddin
g. Actually, Allison suspected Miranda had bribed someone. Being married at La Villita was one of the few dreams that she’d actually dared to mention, more as a passing jest, really, and yet it was coming true. The ceremony would be held downtown near the river in the little church in the old historic district, something of which many San Antonio brides dreamed but few ever saw fulfilled.
She finished moving her things into Kane’s home, and they hired movers to transport her furniture, most of which they intended to use until they got around to serious decorating efforts. The furniture had been her mother’s and though it wasn’t new, it was pretty and well cared for and wouldn’t look out of place.
She worked another four-day week and was shocked when the other nurses and staff threw her a bridal shower on her last day of work before the wedding. Although Kane hadn’t been invited to the all-girls event, he walked into the lounge as cake was being passed around.
“Hey,” he said as someone cut him a hefty slice of cake. “My timing’s great.”
“Lordy, girl,” said the respiratory specialist sitting on Allison’s left side. The woman fanned herself as Kane smiled at one of the nurses. “If you need help handling all that man, feel free to give me a call.”
Allison had to laugh. “I’ll keep it in mind,” she said dryly.
“Look, Dr. Fortune,” called one of the licensed practical nurses, the liveliest girl on the floor. She held up a sheer black chemise with dangling garters and lacy matching stockings. “We got you a gift, too!”
Kane grinned, turning to spear Allison with an intimate gaze. “And it’ll be a pleasure unwrapping it.”
There was a small, loaded silence. Allison could feel the heat of embarrassment turning her face the color of a vivid sundown. Someone murmured, “My, oh my, oh my! Where was he when I was husband-hunting?” and the moment passed in a round of laughter.
A Most Desirable M.D. Page 6
