She fought a smile as she realized that unless he had made a rushed phone call from the hospital, there had been no time for him to invite in a swarm of people to tidy up and ready the house for her arrival. His invitation had been too impulsive. She would be seeing exactly how Ricky lived, for better or for worse. The thought of tossed-aside shirts and damp towels on the bathroom floor, an atmosphere more male than any she had ever experienced, gave her an inexplicable little quiver of anticipation.
As Ricky turned onto a street in an older section of Coral Gables, Allie eagerly studied the neighborhood for clues about his personality. Small, modest homes sat cheek by jowl with brand-new mansions. She knew the area had strict rules for everything from setbacks to the color of paint that could be used, which somehow made the mix of old and new work.
She was relieved when Ricky pulled into the driveway of a stucco house with a tile roof and a lush front lawn, covered with a thick, green carpet of grass. Towering palms and dense shrubbery lined the walkway from the garage to the house. Bright-purple bougainvillea climbed up the sunlit walls of the garage. Other than a few stray branches and a littering of leaves, it didn’t even look as if it had been touched by the hurricane. The landscaping seemed to have been in place for years, unlike her pitiful attempts to turn her yard into something more verdant than the small plots of green sod and one pin oak sapling the developer had considered sufficient for each property.
“It’s lovely,” she told Ricky, captivated by the effect.
When he would have led her inside, she stalled, peppering him with questions about the names of the various plants. To his credit, he not only knew, but responded with patience and increasing amusement.
“Allie, don’t you think we could do this another time, perhaps when you’re not in pain?” he finally asked. “I’ll write it all down for you.”
For a few minutes in her excitement she had actually forgotten about the pain and about the awkwardness of the circumstances. Now it all came flooding back.
“Sorry,” she said, avoiding his gaze. “It’s just that I love to garden and everything down here is so new to me. I’m still trying to figure out what works in this climate. Did you do this yourself?”
She had to make herself look at his mouth, so she could understand his response. Gazing at those sensual lips was not exactly a hardship, but she was beginning to realize that it was dangerous. The more she focused on his mouth, the more she wondered what it would feel like against her own.
Suddenly she realized she’d done it again, gotten lost in her own wicked thoughts, and had paid no attention to the words he was uttering.
“What?” she asked, an embarrassed flush climbing into her cheeks. “Could you say that again?”
“Am I talking too fast?”
“No, I just got distracted for a moment.”
His eyes twinkled with knowing laughter. “Really? By what?”
She frowned at the teasing. “Never mind.” She looked away.
He tucked a finger under her chin and turned her to face him. “I said that I did some of it. Fortunately, if you pick the right plants, the tropical climate takes care of the rest. Except for mowing the grass, I don’t spend a lot of time worrying about upkeep.”
“I imagine you don’t have a lot of free time.”
“No, and sometimes I can be gone for a couple of weeks at a stretch with virtually no notice.”
“When there’s an earthquake,” she guessed.
“Or a flood. Any kind of natural disaster, really.”
“I don’t know how you do that. All that devastation and human suffering. It must be such sad work.”
“Sometimes it is,” he agreed. “But there are moments when we find a survivor against all the odds. That’s what we have to focus on, the unexpected miracles.”
He put his hand in the middle of her back and guided her up the walk. He unlocked the front door and opened it, then steadied her when a German shepherd bounded toward her. At a command from Ricky, the dog promptly sat, tail wagging as he stared up at her. Allie regarded the big dog warily.
Ricky caught her attention. “Allie, this is Shadow. He helped us to find you after the storm. Shadow, this is Allie. You remember her. Can you shake her hand?”
The dog raised his paw. Allie took it, then hunkered down to scratch the dog’s ears. “Thank you, Shadow. I owe you.”
“Offer him a doggie treat every now and then, and he’ll be your pal forever,” Ricky said. “I’ll show you where I keep them. Just remember not to overdo it. He doesn’t need one every time he looks pitiful and begs. It works on my nieces and nephews, so he tries pretty regularly.”
Allie chuckled. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Ready for a tour of the house?” Ricky asked. “It’ll take about two minutes. Then, if you’d like to lie down for a while and rest, I’ll try to come up with something for dinner.”
“I’ve rested more than enough,” Allie said. “I can help with dinner.”
“Not tonight,” he contradicted. “I promised the doctor you’d stay off that ankle as much as possible for the next couple of days.”
Her gaze clashed with his. “You shouldn’t make promises you can’t keep.”
“Oh, I think I could find some way to keep you in bed if I absolutely had to,” he said.
His eyes smoldered in a way that made Allie swallow hard and look away. Surely he didn’t mean…She met his gaze again. Oh, but he did. She could recognize the desire even without hearing the likely sensual undertone of his voice.
“About that tour,” she said, all too aware that her voice probably sounded breathless.
He grinned. “Right this way.”
From the moment they stepped into his living room, she knew that Ricky—and no one else—was responsible for the decor. The overstuffed sofa looked comfortable and very masculine. The leather recliner that faced the television sat next to a small table that was littered with newspapers.
The walls had been painted a bright yellow with white woodwork. One large, unframed oil painting hung on the wall behind the sofa, a scene of the Everglades at sunset with a vibrant poinciana tree in the foreground. The streaky orange shades of the sunset and the red blossoms of the tree were so vivid they seemed unreal, but Allie knew the artist had gotten it exactly right, because she had seen the setting herself. She stood in front of the painting, as awed by it as she had been by the real thing.
“It’s magnificent.”
“Thank you.”
His vaguely embarrassed expression caught her attention more than the polite response. “You painted it?” she asked, astounded.
“Yes,” he admitted with a diffident shrug.
“Ricky, it’s amazing. Have you done others?”
“One or two. Nothing much.”
“Why on earth not?”
“It’s just dabbling,” he protested.
Her gaze narrowed as she studied him. “I imagine someone told you that real men don’t paint.”
His lips quirked ever so slightly. “My father did express some concern about it.”
“Then your father is an idiot.”
He placed a hand over his heart in exaggerated shock. “Don’t let my mother hear you say that.”
“I’ll say it to her or to him,” she said fiercely.
“Allie, it’s okay. It’s not as if I grew up desperate to be an artist. I wasn’t prevented from pursuing it. I paint when I have the time or inclination.”
“You’re wasting an incredible talent.”
“I’m not. I love my career. I am exactly where I was meant to be with my life, doing something that really matters.” He rubbed a thumb across her cheek. “Thanks for being so ready to defend me, though.”
She restrained herself from arguing. Perhaps he was doing what he’d chosen to do with his life. After all, she barely knew him. She was in no position to judge his choices, to assume he was a firefighter because his father considered that more appropriate for a son than
being a painter.
Maybe she had been so quick to do battle on his behalf because fate had taken her own choice away from her. Still, losing her music to fate was one thing—losing it to a domineering parent would have been quite another. Had she been in Ricky’s position, she would have fought like anything to keep her music in her life.
As they completed the tour, she discovered a few more examples of his work in the other rooms of the house, all vibrant with color, all capturing scenes of the unspoiled Florida landscape. The paintings, even the small ones, dominated the rooms in which they were hung. Wisely, though, Allie kept from forcing another debate of the wisdom of his decision to relegate painting to the status of a hobby.
The guest room he showed her to was spotless and uncluttered. There was a small dresser and a comfortable bed with a dark-blue spread that picked up the exact shade of the tumultuous ocean in the painting that hung above the headboard.
“There should be room in the closet,” he said, opening the door to demonstrate.
Allie managed a tremulous smile. “For what?” It was hard to believe that all she owned were the robe, underwear, sneakers, jeans and T-shirt Jane had bought and taken to the hospital.
Ricky looked disconcerted, then apologetic. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I’ll put out a call to my sisters. They can bring you a few things or go shopping for you, whichever you’d like.”
She gestured toward the outfit she was wearing. “As long as you have a washer and dryer, I can make do with this for a day or so. Then I’ll go shopping.”
“Trust me, they all have clothes to spare, some no doubt with the price tags still on them. Maria and Elena are always battling their weight. They buy things too small, counting on them as an incentive to lose a few pounds. I’m sure they will be delighted to get them out of their closets, so the outfits no longer mock them for their failure.”
Allie chuckled, totally understanding their feminine logic. Ricky, however, was clearly mystified by it. “Will you explain to them that you only want to relieve them of the clothes that are too small?” she asked.
Ricky looked justly horrified by the suggestion. “Are you crazy? I value my life too much to even hint at such a thing. Let me call, Allie. You’ll feel better when you have some things of your own. A few days from now, next week, when you’re feeling stronger and have your insurance money in hand, you can shop to your heart’s content.”
Years of struggling for independence made her want to refuse, but common sense told her he was right. “Thank you, but please, don’t let them overdo it. One or two things will be plenty. The insurance adjuster promised to have an initial check for me by next week, so I won’t have to rely on my credit cards to shop.”
He nodded approvingly. “I’ll call now, but I’ll tell them not to come by until morning, when you’ve had a chance to settle in. Anything else you need—a favorite hand lotion, shampoo, cosmetics?”
“I have a few things from the hospital that will do for now.”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely,” she said, determined not to put him or his sisters to any more trouble than she already had. “By the way, when you speak to them, how will you explain me?”
“You mean the fact that there’s a beautiful woman living in my house who happens to be all but naked?”
“You can’t say that,” she protested, even as laughter bubbled up. She had a feeling he was scoundrel enough to make exactly that sort of outrageous remark.
“Of course I can,” he said. “Then again, that will bring them flying straight over, so I won’t. I’ll simply tell them the truth.”
“And what will they think?”
“That you must be an astonishing woman for me to break my rule.”
“What rule?” she asked with a frown.
His solemn gaze locked with hers. “Never to let a woman move in with me unless I intend to marry her.”
Allie had to struggle to keep him from seeing how shaken she was by his admission that he didn’t make a habit of inviting women into his home to stay. Why her? she wondered.
Because he pitied her, of course. Nothing else. How could it be, when he hardly knew her. Still, she couldn’t stop the feeling of disappointment that washed over her.
Ridiculous, she chided herself. This was a temporary haven. It had been offered as such, and what kind of idiot would she be to wish for anything more?
But she did, she admitted. She liked the lingering looks they’d shared, looks that sizzled with tension and promise. She liked the little shivers of anticipation that his unexpected touch sent through her. She liked the male scent of him, the hard feel of his muscles.
She simply liked Enrique Wilder, because for the first time in years, she felt completely and totally like a woman. Even if nothing more happened between them, even if all he offered from now on was a room and a roof over her head, he had given her an incredible gift. He had reminded her that she had lost her hearing years ago, not her life.
Until she’d met him, she had convinced herself that what she had was enough. That because her days were crammed full of activities, she was living. Now she knew better.
Because none of that had made her feel half as alive as one glance from her new roommate.
Chapter Five
“Could you repeat that?” Maria asked when Ricky called and gave his oldest sister a shortened version of Allie’s clothing predicament.
He should have known there was going to be trouble. “Which part of ‘She needs clothes’ didn’t you understand?” he asked impatiently.
“Forget the clothes. I’m still on the part where you asked this total stranger to move in with you.”
“Temporarily,” he reminded her.
“She must be gorgeous.”
He saw no point in denying the obvious, since his sister would see Allie for herself before another day was out. He thought of her pixie face, her untamed curls, the killer eyes. “She is, in an all-American way.”
“Not your usual leggy brunette?”
He hadn’t realized that his habits were so predictable that even his big sister knew his type. “No,” he admitted.
“But you are attracted to her?”
“That’s not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“She’s all alone with nowhere to go. I have room for her. It’s not a big deal, Maria. I’d do the same for anyone.”
“Did you happen to rescue anyone else the other day?”
Ricky saw exactly where she was heading with the question. “Yes,” he replied warily. “But it wasn’t the same. Most of those people had family.”
“And Allie doesn’t?”
His blood still boiled when he thought of her parents staying wherever the hell they were, rather than coming to be with her. “Not in Miami,” he said tightly.
“Uh-oh,” his sister muttered.
“Uh-oh what?”
“You’ve gone all protective, haven’t you? I can hear it in your voice.”
“What if I have? Somebody has to look out for her.”
“You don’t think you’re carrying this hero-to-the-rescue tendency of yours a little too far?”
“No, I don’t.”
“How old is this woman?”
“I don’t know. Twenty-nine, thirty, maybe.”
“Ah,” she said dryly. “An actual grown-up. And you don’t think she can look out for herself?”
Ricky ignored the implication that he usually dated women who were less than mature. Instead, he tried to imagine how Allie would react to any suggestion that she couldn’t manage on her own. He tempered his response accordingly. “Well, of course she could, but why should she have to, when I can pitch in for a little while?”
His sister muttered something in Spanish suggesting he was delusional, then added, “I’ll be there in an hour.”
“Not tonight,” he countered. “In the morning. She’s exhausted.”
“There you go again, being protective of
her.”
“Doctor’s orders,” he contradicted, grateful to have them to fall back on. He could produce a list of very specific instructions if he had to. “He wants her to rest.”
“Of course,” Maria said with a laugh. “I wonder exactly how much rest she’ll get in your bed.”
“Dammit, Maria, she is not in my bed. She’s in the guest room.”
“For how long, I wonder?”
Ricky bit back a curse. “Maybe you should just stay away,” he said. “I’ll call one of my more understanding sisters.”
“When it comes to speculating on your love life, niño, no one is more understanding than I am. I’ll be there first thing in the morning.”
“On good behavior,” he instructed.
“I won’t embarrass you,” she promised.
“And you’ll call the others?” he asked, not sure he was prepared to endure three more inquisitions, much less his mother’s cross-examination once she got wind of Allie’s presence. His mother would make this conversation with Maria seem like little more than idle chitchat.
“With pleasure,” Maria said.
Ricky could all but see the grin spreading across her face. “Don’t bring all of them in the morning,” he warned. “Just a few clothes.”
“Oh, Ricky, Ricky, Ricky,” she chastised. “Do you really think I’ll be able to keep any of them away?”
“Try,” he pleaded. “Allie’s not up to it.”
“Allie or you?” she taunted.
“Both of us, okay. Just you, Maria, and I will be forever in your debt.”
“Really?” she said, sounding suddenly more cooperative. “And in return for my help, you’ll keep the boys for a weekend? All of them?”
He sighed, knowing what an incentive that would be for her to keep his other sisters away from his house. “I will,” he agreed. “Two weekends if you can keep Mama away from here, as well.”
Maria laughed. “Now, that, little brother, is beyond even my powers of persuasion. I’ll have to settle for one weekend alone with my husband.”
A Love Beyond Words Page 5
