by Molly Evans
“Can you talk now?” she asked, and cupped her hand against his cheek. “I don’t mean to pry into your life, but something’s almost destroying you, and it might help to talk about it.”
Easing back some more, he considered her words. “Nothing can help this.” He’d never really tried, but the pain ran so deep, he couldn’t conceive of anything ever releasing it. It was part of him.
“Tell me.” She took his hand, led him out of the office and locked the door to the clinic. She made a pot of coffee and pulled out a packet of crackers and a jar of peanut butter from the cupboard. After things were ready, they sat on the floor of the waiting area.
“You really don’t know what you’re letting yourself in for,” he said, trying to make light of the situation, but he also recognized the wisdom of her words. Who knew? Maybe something could help. If anyone could make it happen, he knew it would be Vicky.
“Just start talking. I know you were awfully worried about Carlos and rightfully so, but after he started to improve, you didn’t.”
Miguel closed his eyes and let the emotions of that day wash over him. Images of his brother and Carlos meshed together and blended until they nearly became one. “The incident with Carlos was nearly a replay of the night my brother, Emilio, died.” Inside him a tremor started. His hand shook as he reached for a cracker.
“Miguel, I didn’t know.”
“I know.” He patted her shoulder and tried not to fall too far into those blue eyes of hers. “You couldn’t have. Carlos, of course, is Carlos, but he looks nearly identical to my brother.”
Vicky’s eyes widened. She knew the implications. “That brought it all back again, didn’t it? I’d guess that’s a case of PTSD you didn’t expect.”
“Yeah. It was like reliving it all over again, except that this time you were there, and Carlos survived.” He huffed out a sigh filled with regrets he could never change. “Emilio died on the sidewalk in my arms. I had to tell my family that he’d been shot by the gang I’d been trying to get him away from.” The irony of it hadn’t eluded him.
“Oh, my God, Miguel. You’ve kept this inside until now?”
“I took responsibility for what was my fault.” It was that simple to him. He was older, he was the responsible one.
“How could any of it be your fault? The gang pulled the trigger.”
“I might as well have. I was trying to persuade the gang leader, Juan, to leave Emilio alone, and he was about to shoot me. Emilio dived in and took the bullet that was meant for me.”
Tears filled her eyes as she watched him tell the story and she waited until he was finished speaking to ask questions. “How old were you when this happened?”
“Twenty-one. I was the oldest, responsible.” He held up his wrist and pointed out the silver bracelet he wore. “I’d just finished college, was home on break before medical school. This was a present for Emilio, but I never got to give it to him.”
“I’ve noticed it. It’s beautiful.”
“It reminds me every day of how I failed my family and my brother, that I was responsible for his death.” He’d never taken it off.
“Where is this Juan now?”
“In jail. For another murder.” He snorted in disgust. “At least they got him for that one.”
“I’d say he’s where he belongs, and so are you.” She placed her hand over his. “Nothing you’ve told me changes the fact that you are doing very good things for your community. And no part of Emilio’s death was your fault. You’ve got to know that.”
“If I hadn’t tried to get him out, he might be alive now.”
“Or he might not. He could have been killed in another incident. You’ll never know. But you have to let him go, Miguel. That’s the only way you’ll be free. You’ve been punishing yourself with this clinic, and now I know why. You think if you work yourself to death by saving others, it will pay for your crime, but it wasn’t yours to pay for.”
He looked at her and opened his mouth to deny everything, but he couldn’t. The words just wouldn’t come. Instead, he needed a change of pace. “Tell me what you have in mind for the fundraiser, and I’ll tell you what I think.”
“Change of topic won’t get you off the hook,” she said, but opened a folder filled with a lot of papers and numbers. “‘A Night for a Life’ is the tentative title I’ve given the event. If people spend one night bringing in money to the clinic, it will save a life.” She paused and looked at him. “If we do this right, the clinic will run itself. My brother can set up the nonprofit part of it, and you’ll have the freedom and the time to work at the hospital, too.”
Fascinated, he listened to her give the minipresentation. No fancy computer programs, just a simple retelling of her plan for funding the clinic, for helping him to achieve his dream of returning to the trauma unit and keeping the clinic alive, as well.
He’d been so wrong about Vicky Sterling-Thorne.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MIGUEL lay in bed sleepless, restless, his mind racing as midnight approached. Spring eased its way into summer with bright beautiful days and evenings that were designed for sleeping with the windows open to catch any stray breeze that happened by. This was the beauty of living in the high desert: warm days, balmy nights.
Another week had passed, seeing Carlos’s continued improvement. At least that was one worry off his mind. The days were full of patients and the evenings full of fundraising plans. Now that he was on board with the idea, he was really enjoying the process of putting together such an event. It was a far cry from the bake sales and car washes he’d envisioned. He and Vicky worked together, tirelessly caring for patients and planning for the event. In doing so, he was seeing her in a different light that was not as unflattering as he’d thought in the beginning. Now he had no regrets that he’d hired her.
He’d come to depend on her more than he’d ever thought he could and the ice surrounding his heart had begun to melt because of her. That was another thing he never thought he’d experience. She brought new life to the clinic and was slowly bringing new life to him.
The red numbers on the bedside clock showed it was midnight. Frustrated, he sat up and shook off the sheet. Before he knew it the phone was in his hand and he’d dialed Vicky’s number. If she didn’t answer in the first ring or two he’d hang up, but he just wanted to talk to her. Just had to hear her voice. Now.
“Hello?”
Miguel nearly dropped to his knees at the husky, sexy tone of her voice. “It’s Miguel. Did I wake you?” He could just imagine her all rumpled with sleep, soft and sexy, as she reached for the phone in the dark.
“Sort of. I was resting but not really asleep. You know that in-between state?”
“I know it.” He’d been in it.
“What’s up besides us?”
He smiled at that. One of the things he’d come to love about her was the subtle sense of humour she had. The patients responded to it, and he found himself responding, as well. “I…I don’t know. I just wanted to talk to you for a minute.”
“Restless, huh? Usually when I’m restless a walk helps settle me down.”
“A walk at midnight?” He’d never thought of that.
“Definitely. Why don’t you come over, and I’ll take you for a midnight stroll like you’ve never imagined.”
Intriguing. “I’ll get dressed.”
“Me, too.” She gave him her address and they hung up. Adrenaline and anticipation replaced the restlessness than ran through his veins. He didn’t know what kind of midnight walk she had in mind, but anything had to be better than the current situation he was in.
In short order he made the trip to her home in the north valley area of Albuquerque. Though not far away in distance, the area was far away, a throwback, in time. Huge trees and mature foliage hugged both sides of the road mixed with open fields for alfalfa and grazing horses. She lived in a caretaker’s cottage in the middle of the vineyard, she had said. Someday he’d like to see this area during
daylight. As beautiful as it was at night, he wanted to see it in the light of day. He made the turn onto a narrow lane, darkened by the dense cottonwood trees overhead. It almost put him in another land or era. No wonder she loved it here.
The porch light guided him and in minutes he saw her standing by the front door of a quaint cottage nearly enveloped with dark ivy and surrounded by rose bushes. He’d never seen her looking so casual, in a plain shirt, denim shorts and flimsy sandals. He’d never seen her looking so luscious, either. This was definitely where he wanted to be instead of rolling around in his bed.
“Made it okay?” she asked as he stepped out of the truck.
“No problem. Love that GPS.”
With a sideways smile and eyes full of mystery, she held out her hand. “Let’s walk.” She led the way into the incredibly dark night, as if she’d taken this path many times. With only a tiny flashlight in her hand that hardly lent illumination, he followed her. Out here there were no streetlights. They were surrounded by acres and acres of vineyard and brilliant galaxies overhead.
In silence they strolled as the sounds of the night rose up around them. Crickets chimed their rhythmic songs, cicadas buzzed in the trees overhead, a delightful breeze stroked his skin, and he began to relax. The stress of the past two weeks was beginning to fade with the feel of her soft hand in his.
He took a deep breath, catching the fragrances of the night. Fresh dirt, the sweet scent of honeysuckle and Spanish broom bushes that had to be nearby. He’d know those scents anywhere. Large, lush leaves of the grapevines brushed his arms and legs, the foliage reaching out from the strength of the main vines.
“This is very nice.”
“Nice? This is awesome.” She gave his hand a squeeze. “I love this walk. There are times I just can’t sleep and a stroll through the vines helps me to relax. You can’t see it now, but over there is the river.” She paused and pointed to the west. The unmistakable snort of a horse made him smile.
“I think we’re disturbing someone’s sleep.”
“They’ll get over it.” They kept walking.
He was glad she had his hand or he would have been lost for certain. As they rounded a bend in the path, the glint of moonlight off the river caught his eye. The thought of her half-naked and wet was enough to set his imagine on fire. Right now, with her in the middle of the night, he wanted to set his imagination free. He wanted to stop and savor the night and everything it had to offer.
“You ever swim down here?”
“Not in the river. Too unpredictable for me.” She tugged on his hand. “But there’s a pool at the main house. We can slip in for a quick dip.”
“If it’s a bad idea, I’ll understand.” But the thought of getting her alone and naked and wet was more than he could resist.
“It’s a great idea. My father’s not home right now, but he won’t mind, anyway.”
Clenching his jaw, as a wave of desire hit him, he stopped there. Having a tryst in the middle of the night was something he’d have done in his younger days, but now having one with his coworker wasn’t on the agenda. Things would never be the same between them, and he wasn’t willing to ruin his relationship with Vicky just for sex. He’d have to reel in his libido as long as he continued to work with her. Once he left the clinic, things might be different, but there was no guarantee in that. “As much as I’d like to, I don’t think we should.”
“Why not? It’s not like we’ll be naked or anything.”
“We won’t?” That stopped him. “Uh, why not?”
She giggled. “Because I’ll put on my swimsuit and you can borrow a pair of my brother’s trunks, that’s why. They’re clean.”
“Oh.” So much for libido and a wet, naked woman.
She laughed again. “You sound so disappointed.”
“I am.” But he laughed and the feeling swirling inside his chest was a good one. One he hadn’t let himself experience in way too long. “Maybe a cool swim is just what I need after all.”
“Right this way.”
Miguel changed first and eased into the pool. Submerging himself fully, he allowed the water to wash over him. This was a luxury he’d never imagined. He pushed off the bottom and swam as far as he could in one breath, then surfaced for air. Just as he came up, Vicky launched herself from the diving board. Though there were lights at the bottom of the pool, she hadn’t seen him, and he couldn’t get out of the way fast enough. He submerged beneath her and came up just inches away.
“Miguel! I didn’t see you. Are you okay?” She reached out and placed her hands on his shoulders as they trod water.
It didn’t matter what he told himself before and even if she wasn’t naked, she was certainly wet and luscious in a barely-there bikini, and he wanted her. With one arm he snagged her around the waist and brought her fully against him, dragging her to the side of the pool. Now that the restraints had been loosened, he allowed himself to look down at her, to take in all that she was and enjoy his gaze wander over her. “I’m just fine.” With her clinging to him, he approached the side of the pool where he could put his feet on the bottom.
Before he even knew what he was doing, he kissed her. Nothing was going to stop him from feeling every inch of her against him. He pressed her tight and the backs of his hands protected her delicate skin from rubbing against the side.
Slowly and deeply he took her, his lips, his mouth, his tongue, every breath he took seeming to become part of her. There was magic in the night and magic going on between them. The low groan in her throat made his desire flare higher and his arousal was both pleasurable and painful. He wanted her and as she raised her legs to wrap them around his hips, there was no doubt that she wanted him, too.
Lifting one hand, he slipped a thumb beneath the flimsy bikini top that clung to her skin and cupped her breast. The weight of her, the tight nipple in his hand felt so right. He wanted all of her filling his hands, filling his senses, and he tugged on the string that held the top together. In seconds it floated away to the bottom of the pool, like a leaf to the bottom of the river.
Dragging his mouth away from hers, he licked his way down her neck and over one collarbone. Scooping a nipple into his mouth, he suckled hard, stroking the tight flesh with his tongue, wanting to send her as far into the abyss as he already was.
Vicky had never felt as alive, as filled with desire as she was at this moment. The water licked her skin, adding to the delicious sensation of Miguel teasing her nipple. Her senses were on overload and there was only one way to fix it. Pulling his head up, she spread kisses over his neck, his face, his eyes, and settled on his mouth for a long slow drink. Groaning, he pressed her against the edge of the pool again and his arousal burned into her. She wanted him as she’d never wanted any man in her life. She’d never been a great judge of men, but in Miguel there was a hidden heart of gold. Somehow she knew it.
“Let’s go to the cottage.” She stroked her hand down his face and let it rest on his chest. “We need to get out of these wet clothes.”
He dug his fingers into her hips, everything about him intense and aroused. Even in the dim lighting from around the pool she saw the desire burning in his eyes. She wanted him, too. There was nothing to hold either of them back. Any nagging doubts had faded away.
“I want that very much, but if we make love it will change everything between us.” He took in a deep breath and held her gaze. “Not just some things. Everything.”
“I think things have already changed between us. We’ve been circling this moment since we met.” Feeling bolder than she ever had, she brought his hand back to her breast, loving the feel of his skin sliding against hers, needing to feel the vitality he infused into her with his touch. This was the way things were supposed to be between a man and a woman. This was the way it was supposed to feel, and she didn’t want to let it go. “I want things to change between us, Miguel.” She stroked his face again, loving the textures of him against her. “I want to make love to you.”
Groaning, he hugged her close, then pressed her against the side again. He trembled in her arms. As she moved, he winced then pulled back.
“What is it?”
Cupping her face, he pressed a kiss to her mouth and eased her toward the steps. “I think the cement is chipped. Just scraped my hand on the side, but it’s nothing.”
Vicky pulled back. “Let me see. Doctors are the worst patients, you know.”
“Seriously, it’s just a scratch.” He turned his hand over to show her, and she gasped at the blood streaming from several small wounds. “This isn’t nothing.” She looked back at the pool and saw the broken and chipped spot that she had avoided every time she swam lately. “Dammit. Daddy was supposed to have had that fixed by now.” She grabbed a towel and wrapped it around her. Her breath came out in panting gasps as she stood trembling beside him. “Why don’t we go get that fixed?” She held out her hand to him.
He took it and they returned to the cottage. With the towel knotted in the front, Vicky tended to the abrasions that were really nothing, but he enjoyed the touch of her and the way she fussed over him.
With the gentle touch that he had seen her use countless times on patients in the clinic, she tended to the small cuts as if they were the most urgent of injuries. That made him smile inside and the warmth of love pulsed out with each beat of his heart.
Unexpected moisture filled his eyes and the warmth began to burn in his lungs. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t have a night of passion with Vicky and walk away from her. But he couldn’t give her what she needed and what she deserved either.
Curling his hands into fists, he pulled away from her. He had to end it now, no matter how much it hurt him.
Vicky stared up at him, her eyes brimming with tears. “Miguel?” Her breath came in short gasps. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
The pain squeezed his throat shut. Though he opened his mouth, he couldn’t speak. He’d never experienced such anguish tearing him apart. “I…have to.”
