“I can see that, but it’s an emergency. Some woman is on the phone and she’s crying hysterically. Something about your papa. Sounds important, but I do not understand a word she is saying.”
Rafe could see the tension in Kelly’s face. The humor and desire had gone out of her expression as though she’d been struck by a gale-force wind. To him she said, “I can’t believe this. I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s going on, but I have to check.”
Then to Adrien she yelled, “Tell her I’ll be right there.”
“Of course, let’s go. It’s an emergency. Tell me what I can do to help.” Rafe forced his leg to cooperate, while trying to shield her nudity from the guy on the beach. Rafe barely relaxed his vigilance until the shadowy figure sprinted off toward the main building.
“This might take a while if it’s who I think it is,” she said apologetically. She found his shirt, which he’d left just beyond the water’s reach, and slipped it on. That was a sight, with her beautiful, tanned legs poking out the bottom of the white cotton.
“No problem. I should head back to my bungalow.” Rafe shoved on his jeans, which wasn’t easy since his leg was aching. Tiny, hot needles of pain burned deep in the muscles. “I’ll see you tomorrow for the—what is that class called?”
“Pilates.” She smiled but it didn’t quite make it as far as her eyes.
Rafe leaned forward and kissed her forehead. “I’m being serious, let me know if you need help.”
“Thanks,” she said as she gave him a quick hug and sprinted away.
In contrast, he limped toward his room and grimaced.
At this rate, cold showers might become a part of his regular routine.
* * *
“MOM, STOP CRYING. Everything is fine. You know Dad will pop back up at the house tomorrow. He always comes home to you.” Of all the nights for her father to take off on one of his little adventures—if he were here, she’d—
“This time is different,” her mother insisted. “He didn’t even leave a note. And Sissy Carpenter saw him talking to that new tennis coach, Samantha. You know how much your father loves tennis.”
Her dad loved anything he could do that would get him out of the house when his wife was in residence. Once a dedicated neurosurgeon and preoccupied for a lot of Kelly’s life, he’d since retired a few months ago. He still consulted on special cases from time to time, but he didn’t see new patients any longer.
Her mom, a former supermodel, decided she was in no way retiring. She threw herself into the details of her clothing label, perfume and makeup lines and kept herself busy with all kinds of commitments. Her father was done with the limelight. All he wanted to do was play tennis and the occasional game of golf. But her mom nagged him to accompany her to one thing after another.
As if to keep his wife in check, he would take off at a moment’s notice. He’d leave on the auspices of an important case, and Kelly and Mimi were stuck picking up the pieces.
Their mother’s fits were legendary. Most of the time she was the life of the party, but it had taken several years for them to discover she suffered from depression. Drugs helped, but not when she added alcohol to the mix. Unfortunately, it sounded as if her mother had found the key to the liquor cabinet again.
Through her floor-to-ceiling window she watched Rafe limp to his room. Stupid wave had done more damage than she’d thought. Kelly had been through enough physical therapy to know how long real healing took.
Her mother droned on about the tennis coach.
Kelly sighed. “Mom, you know he wouldn’t cheat on you. You said you did come home three days early to surprise him. He probably figured you wouldn’t even know he was gone. He’s off playing golf with his buddies. Drinking one too many martinis and passing out at nine, just like he does at home.”
This drove her mother nuts since she was a night owl who still liked to go out to clubs and late dinners. Even though she was more than fifty, her mom didn’t look a day over thirty.
Kelly reminded herself that her dad might be a jerk sometimes, but he loved his wife. He never failed to tell her how beautiful she was and how important she was to him. And he constantly lavished gifts on her as if she were a harem princess. The two of them existed in a dysfunctional fairy tale, but it worked for them. Most of the time.
“But to not even tell me,” her mother wailed again.
This had to stop.
“Mom? I met a guy—a great one.”
The phone went silent.
“You never tell us about the men you date. It took us a year and a half to find out about Germaine.”
“Greg, mother.” That was one of the ways Mom hinted she didn’t like someone. She always got the name wrong. Not once had she or Mimi dated a guy that their mother called by the correct name.
“This one is different. He’s a marine, and so strong and honest. I didn’t think they made men like him anymore.”
“Oh, sugar!” The Southern drawl always came out after a few vodka cranberries. “He sounds like heaven. I always did love me a man in uniform. Where did you meet?”
That was a tricky one. “Here. He’s a guest staying at the resort.”
“Oh, how romantic,” she crooned, her overwrought mood completely diverted.
“It was romantic, Mother, until your call interrupted what was turning out to be a really great date,” she grumbled.
“Sugar, I’m sorry. You know how it is. Your daddy, I don’t think he understands how much his leaving hurts my feelings. I really resent him for that.”
So did Kelly, in a way. Though he had a flair for the dramatic when it came to Mom, he’d always been reassuring and kind to his daughters. A calming force. The good cop when it came to sorting things out. But Mom was right. He also had a habit of missing recitals and pageants and always showering them with extravagant gifts to make it up to them.
“Hmm, I think it’s time you changed it up,” suggested Kelly. “You need to go somewhere with a bunch of your friends. Take a mini vacation and don’t tell Dad. When he gets back, he’s going to freak when he doesn’t find you at home waiting to fawn all over him again. Sometimes a chick has got to do what she has got to do when it comes to relationships.”
There was a long pause. “I always thought Mimi was the game player when it came to men. I never expected to hear something like that from you.”
True. Normally, Kelly wasn’t the type of woman who went in for games. She preferred to tell it like it was. Her parents’ marriage had taught her the importance of communicating and sharing the truth when it came to expectations and desires.
Okay, so she hadn’t been exactly honest in the way she invited Rafe to the resort, but she’d been nothing but honest with him since then. Except that part about Rafe’s voice mail message for Mimi. She hadn’t expected the universe to be so generous with the timing of that entertainment report. But when Rafe kissed her—whatever risks she’d taken, they were worth it.
“But you might be on to something,” her mother said. “You get back to your date. I have a vacation to plan,” her mother said cheerily. “Love you, honey, sorry about interrupting your fun.”
“Love you, too.”
She checked the time; the call had lasted only twenty minutes. Rafe was probably in his room.
Kelly changed out of his slightly damp T-shirt and put it in the hamper to be laundered. Poking through her medicine cabinet, she found the special healing balm her physio had given to her when she’d pulled her hamstring.
Rafe’s letters hadn’t done justice to the extent of his injuries. The scars on his thigh, back and hip signified a grislier time than he’d let on. And even with the initial injuries healed, the scar tissue, possible nerve damage and muscle atrophy could set his full recovery back for years. While she prayed it wasn’t true, she acknowledged there was th
e possibility he might have a slight limp for the rest of his life.
Hips were funny that way. If everything didn’t heal exactly as it needed to, it was difficult to repair the damage. Her friend Roni had been one of the best surfers on the pro circuit until her board popped up and came down on her hipbone, smashing it to pieces.
It could have happened to any of the surfers. As it turned out it wasn’t Roni’s day. Her friend was tough; although her limp was pronounced, she continued to surf. Not competitively, but she had her own surfing school in Newport Beach. Not far from where Kelly’s parents lived.
Grabbing a basket from her closet, she collected a sheet and some extra towels. It might not be the romantic end to their date that she’d hoped for, but she could loosen those muscles so he could get at least a decent night’s sleep.
7
RAFE FELL ONTO his bed a second time as the pain shot through his hip. Meds. He had to find a way to get to the bathroom for them. He tried to sit up, but a wave of discomfort made his stomach churn.
You’re a marine, man. You’ve hurt far worse after a stupid bar fight.
But that wasn’t true. This was different. This hurt came from deep within, and the tension didn’t seem to be lessening any.
Sweat beaded on his forehead and he used his arms to push himself up. He rolled over and put all of his weight on his left leg.
“Crap,” he bit out as he crashed onto the covers. Forcing himself upright again, he tried to find his balance.
“Hey, what are you doing? Stay where you are,” Kelly ordered, entering the bungalow via his open sliding glass doors.
“I’m fine,” he grunted. No way in hell did she need to see him flopping around like a rabid dog.
Her eyebrows shot up. “Yes, you’re fine, Mr. Macho. How cool. Now, let me help you get comfortable.” She did and soon he was propped up on several fat pillows.
“Men,” she said as she fixed the bedding and efficiently positioned his leg on more pillows.
“This isn’t necessary,” he insisted before sucking in a breath.
“Of course not,” she replied as she handed him an empty ice bucket. “That’s why your skin is green and your face is sweating—because everything is fine. Where are your painkillers?”
“Don’t need them.”
“Rafe! You’re a big tough marine. You fight in wars the rest of us are barely courageous enough to watch on television. Stop being hardheaded and tell me where your medication is. I know they didn’t send you home without any. And why didn’t you say your injuries were this bad?”
“Bossy.” It was the only word he could get out. Damn the woman. She ran around in her cutoff shorts and sexy top as if she weren’t the most beautiful creature on earth. He grabbed a pillow and threw it over his crotch.
“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she said. She didn’t miss a beat. “I can’t believe you’re thinking about sex when your body is seizing up in pain. I can see the muscles contracting. It’s got to be horrendous what you’re going through. If I could carry you to the hot tub I would, but we’ll have to make do. Where are your pills?”
He liked her feisty and hot-tempered. She came across as so laid-back about everything else.
“Bathroom. In my shaving—” Before he could say the word kit she was back with the drugs and a glass of water. After reading the directions, she handed him two pills, one a muscle relaxer, the other for pain.
“I swallow these and I’m out for the night,” he warned. Didn’t she see he needed relief of another kind?
She shook her head as if she’d lost all patience with him. “I am not having sex with you tonight, Marine. You’re in too much pain. Maybe that’s what you’re into, but not me.” She paused as if she were considering something. “Hmm, fine. Every girl likes a little spanking now and then, and tying someone up can always be fun.”
Wicked, desirable...
“You’re killing me,” he groaned. His erection was as painful as his leg.
She bit back a smile and winked at him.
“If you’re a good boy and do what I say, nurse Kelly might see to your other needs. But first, you swallow the pills.”
There was hope. So at this point he’d do anything to see her sitting on top of him. To hell with the taking it slow.
“I see that look in your eyes, Marine,” she said as he took the pills. “I’m going to leave your pillow in place, so you feel as though your manhood is protected. But I’m rubbing this lotion, really more a liniment, on both legs. It will help those muscles relax faster than you could ever expect.”
Rafe almost said something rude about a part of his body she could massage that would bring instant relief but stopped himself. He was a gentleman and she was right. He wouldn’t be up to par tonight, no matter how much he might wish it so. And when he did make love to her, he promised himself, it would be something she would never forget.
“I’ll start with the front of your legs, but we need to get these boxers off so I can get this salve into your hip.”
He’d thrown on the underwear after peeling off his wet jeans.
She reached for the waistband, but he held up a hand.
“I can do it.” He waved her away.
The pain was far from gone, but the meds worked quickly enough that he could roll down his boxers and shove them off without assistance. Taking care of him was sweet, but Rafe didn’t want a nursemaid.
“Talented. Now turn to the left.” She placed a couple of towels on the flat sheet.
He thought she was going to be far more impressed with him undressing himself, particularly given the aroused state of his cock and the amount of total pain he was in. He wanted to impress her. And getting laid up by a teeny-tiny wave definitely wasn’t that impressive. A foggy dimness filled his brain.
No. He wanted to—
His eyes drooped and he forced them open. He didn’t want to miss a moment of her touching him, as painful as that might be for him. He had learned earlier just how strong her gentle hands could be. “Two massages in one day,” he said drowsily. “I’m really starting to like this place. And I really like you and not just because you’re so beautiful it makes my heart ache sometimes with wanting to touch you.”
She sucked in a breath.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
What did I say?
He couldn’t remember. Confusion blurred his mind.
Thankfully, her magic hands kept easing the tension in his leg.
“I like you, too,” she said. “That’s why I have to be honest about something.”
“You can tell me anything, baby.” As his eyes drifted closed, he tried to focus on her words.
8
SITTING UP ON her bed in the early morning hours, Kelly listened to the ocean. Yawning, she slipped her bikini and flip-flops on and went to look outside. The sheer white curtains that kept people on the beach from watching her sleep were billowing. She saw the waves were at least five feet high.
A bolt of excitement ran through her like a runaway freight train. It’d been weeks since there’d been some decent waves.
Running upstairs, she knocked on Adrien’s door. “Surf’s up,” she announced.
The chef mumbled something, but by the time she went to grab her board outside, he was right beside her.
“Tempête,” he said in French.
She nodded. “Until the storm blows in, let’s have some fun.”
Concentrating on the waves would keep her from thinking about Rafe, something she’d done for most of the night. In fact, she’d only slept about an hour and a half.
He’d said he liked her.
While this thrilled her, she knew that whatever was between them was temporary. Once she told him the truth he wouldn’t be too happy with her. In fa
ct, she had told him the truth, but his light snores indicated he hadn’t heard a word of it.
“Damn.” As she shifted the wrong way on the board, it flipped. Tumbling through the water, she tried to get her bearings, which was difficult since she couldn’t tell up from down. The board hit the side of her head and she screamed in pain, inhaling seawater.
Smart.
When she finally broke through the waves she quickly sucked in some air before another wave could slam into her.
The pain was confusing her, but she pushed herself to swim for shore. A few seconds later, strong hands gripped her upper arms.
“Are you okay?” Rafe’s voice penetrated the ache in her head.
“I’m good,” she answered, and he guided her up onto dry land. When her feet hit the sand, she sat down and rubbed at her temple.
Rafe knelt in front of her and stared into her eyes.
“Is there a doctor I can call?” he asked as he wrapped a towel around her shoulders.
“I’ll be fine. That’s the true definition of getting your bell rung,” Kelly joked. “Besides, when Adrien comes in he can always take me to the hospital, but I doubt that’ll be necessary.”
“The cook?” Rafe asked in surprise.
“Chef,” she corrected. “He’s like my big brother. He quit his old life to surf full-time.”
“Huh.” Rafe smiled and said, “I guess you really never know about people.”
She shrugged. “That’s what I love about surfing. People from all walks of life enjoy the sport. Doctors, lawyers, artists and even chefs,” she said as Adrien walked up to them.
Her friend held her board and his. After sticking them in the sand, he knelt down.
“Vous avez pris une tête-bêche.”
“Not just a tumble, the board wacked the side of her head,” Rafe said.
Kelly and Adrien stared at Rafe, surprised that he understood French.
“Elle a la tête dure,” Adrien said.
She playfully shoved at her friend. “It’s not that hard.” They all laughed. “Though Dad did used to say my head was made of granite. A couple of acetaminophen and I’ll be good as new.”
Mission: Seduction Page 6
