CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE TRILOGY

by Patrice Wilton

  He’d looked into her eyes, filled with affection and gratitude, and he’d damn near kissed her. Luckily his conscience had stepped in, reminding him that he was there to do the right thing, not seduce his sister-in-law. He didn’t want to be that kind of guy anymore. He wanted to be a friend to Leila, but it wasn’t going to be easy since he’d never had a woman-friend before. And on top of that, she was incredibly hot. But even if she got his loins heated up, he could behave properly. He’d just have to remind himself that she’d loved his brother and been Nick’s wife, and was the mother of Nick’s child. She wasn’t some bimbo that he could have fun with and walk away from.

  From here on in, he was going to treat Leila with nothing but respect. With that thought in mind, he closed his eyes, breathing deep slow breaths, relaxing every inch of his tired, stiff body, the way he had taught himself while in prison. It had taken him months to learn to sleep in that hell-hole, and now when he willed it, he could sleep anywhere.

  Within minutes, he was dead asleep and the next thing he knew, he heard a soft knocking at his door and Callie telling him that it was six-thirty.

  He thanked her and told her he’d been down in twenty minutes or so.

  He sat up slowly, stretching as he did so. The ceiling wasn’t very high and he could almost brush it with his fingers. The walls were a lemon color with a floral print border, and the quilt on the double bed matched the border. At the foot of the bed was an armoire with two long drawers in its bottom and a small TV set in the center. A narrow closet completed the room.

  He took his shaving kit and a set of new clothes from his bag and went into the bathroom he’d be sharing with Callie.

  Untidy was an understatement. Toothpaste spotted the sink, towels weren’t folded but slung over the rack, and a used tissue lay on the floor beside the wastebasket. He straightened the towels and used a washcloth to clean the sink and counter. There were strands of hair everywhere, on the floor, next to her brush, in the sink and shower. He wondered if some medication was causing hair loss, or did all young women shed like dogs? He knew Jamie always left hair in her brush and it got in his sink too. Probably just a female thing.

  He breathed deeply through his mouth, trying to get a grip. He could keep obsessive-compulsive tendencies under control for a week or so. But his disorder was another good reason never to marry. No one would have to put up with his idiosyncrasies.

  ***

  Leila had sent her mother home. She knew she was disappointed, but she had explained this was Callie’s night. Her daughter should be the one in the spotlight, and she didn’t want her mother or anyone interfering.

  She, on the other hand, was happy to play second fiddle to Callie. The less interaction she had with Ryan, the better. At least until she got her hormones under firm control. What was the matter with her? True, she hadn’t had sex in five years, but why should her desires reawaken now? Was it because Ryan reminded her of Nick? Or was it simply because she was so incredibly grateful Ryan was saving her daughter's life? Whatever it was, it had to go away.

  The family relationship alone put him off limits, and she didn’t need to further complicate this transplant business with a sexual attraction between her and the donor.

  She heard him coming down the stairs and licked her suddenly dry lips. She ran a hand through her hair and straightened up when she saw him.

  She smiled and he smiled back.

  “Sleep well?” she asked.

  “Out like a light. Is Callie ready?”

  “She’s organizing herself for the morning, but she’ll be down in a minute.”

  They stood looking at each other, and neither seemed to know what to say. This unexpected awkwardness made her feel foolish. They weren’t exactly youngsters, and there was no reason why they shouldn’t discuss things openly.

  “Ryan, I just want you to know how grateful we all are. I hope my feelings for you are clear. I loved Nick with all my heart, and I love you as his brother. You are, and always will be, very welcome in this home, and will have a special place in my heart.”

  “Right. I’m clear,” he said, and she couldn’t tell from his expression if he was miffed or relieved. “I feel the same. Glad you brought it up.”

  “You are?” She licked her bottom lip. “Uh…everything is cool, then?”

  “Cool. Sure. I might have to remind you once and awhile, that’s all.”

  “Remind me about what?” What was he saying? That she was the instigator? That he had no sexual interest in her, whatsoever? Ha! She didn’t believe that for a second.

  “About—“ He stopped mid-sentence when he spotted Callie in the hallway. “Here she is. Ready to go, sweetheart?”

  Callie nodded. “Thanks for saving us from another of Grandma’s casseroles. If I had one more this week, I’d puke.”

  “Callie, that’s not a very nice thing to say. Grandma knows I don’t have time to cook a proper meal each night. We should be grateful for all she does for us.”

  “I am, Mom. But trust me, I’m all stewed out.”

  Ryan laughed. “Dang it. I was hoping we could find some good kangaroo stew someplace in town. How about a pizza instead?”

  “Pizza works for me," Callie said.

  “That’s fine with me,” Leila said, “but we did have it a few nights ago.” This was a special night and she wanted to introduce Ryan to one of her favorite restaurants. “Do you like Chinese or Thai? We have two great restaurants in town. It’s the best Thai I’ve ever eaten.”

  “Sold," he said.

  The restaurant was busy as usual, but because it was already half past seven and this was not a late night establishment, they were seated quickly.

  Ryan deferred to Leila and let her order. She told the harried waiter they would start with beef satays in peanut sauce, followed by red curry chicken, pad Thai, and shrimp in a Panang sauce. She knew the size of the platters; that would be more than enough to eat.

  Once the drinks and the food arrived, they all concentrated on enjoying the wonderful tastes and flavors of the various dishes. Towards the end of the meal, Ryan finally broached the subject that was on all of their minds. He asked Callie if she was ready for the ordeal that lay ahead.

  “I’m as ready as I’ll ever be. I had a transplant a couple of years ago, so I know what to expect.” She blinked rapidly, as if tears had filled her eyes. “I started feeling better pretty quick that time, but then it just didn’t work out and…” She shrugged. “So maybe this will be better, you know?”

  “I wish I’d known sooner. Maybe I could have saved you a lot of grief.”

  Callie straightened her shoulders, holding onto her young dignity. “It’s okay. But what about you? Do you know what you’re getting into? I won’t blame you if you decide to back out.”

  Ryan reached across the table to hold her hand. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re my family, Callie, a part of me. Maybe the best part. I’m not just doing this for you or for your dad. I’m also doing this for me.”

  Leila was touched by Ryan’s need to help Callie, and understood it probably even better than he did. Although she’d only known him for a short time, she realized he had a low opinion of himself and by doing this, he was attempting to validate his self-worth.

  She smiled at him. “It’s an extremely generous and kind act, and we will always be in your debt.”

  “I don’t want you in my debt.” He turned back to Callie. “As payment, I want a card from you every Christmas and pictures of you growing up.”

  She shook her head. “You’re not getting away that easily. Sure, we’ll send you pictures, but I want to see Australia for myself. When I’m well enough to travel, I’d like to visit you like you said.”

  “Deal.”

  ***

  Later that night, after Callie was in bed, Leila was too keyed up to sleep. She slipped downstairs, treading carefully past Ryan’s door so as not to wake him, and went into her office.

  She flicked on the computer, and while wai
ting for it to start, she picked up the picture of Nick that she kept on her desk. She traced his face lovingly, smiling at him, hoping he was close by and knew what was going on. He would be so proud of his brother, and happy that they’d finally met.

  “I thought I heard you come downstairs.”

  Startled, she looked up and saw Ryan standing in the doorway. In the dim light, she couldn't read the expression on his face. But her heart did a happy little pitter-patter.

  “Yes. I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Neither could I. Probably too jet-lagged.” He walked into the room, close enough to her desk that he could see the picture she was still holding. He nodded toward it. “You must miss him very much.”

  “I do. Every day." She set the photo back down. "They say it gets easier with the passage of time, but I haven’t found that to be true. Maybe because with Callie sick, I need him so much more than I did before.”

  Ryan leaned against the desk. “That’s understandable.” His gaze was still on his brother’s picture. “How long were you two together?”

  “We dated for a little more than a year before we got married, and we had just celebrated our eighth anniversary. Callie was only seven when he died.”

  “It’s tough, I know. He was a good guy.”

  “We thought so.” She gave him a weak smile. “I thought his death was the hardest thing I’d ever have to live through, but I was wrong.”

  He pushed off from the desk and moved toward the door. “Could I take Callie to her dialysis in the morning?” he asked. “You wouldn’t have to drop her on your way to work, and since I’m only going to be here for a short time, I'd like to spend as much time with her as possible. Do you think she would mind?”

  “I don’t think she'd mind at all. She'd probably love it.” She tried to curb her enthusiasm, but it was so damn difficult when every time she looked at him, she wanted to hug him. “And you don’t need to stay with her. She normally does her school work during those four hours."

  “I wasn’t all that good in school, but I’ll hang around and see if I can help.” He coughed as if to clear his throat, but his voice sounded gravelly when he spoke. “She’s a brave kid, isn’t she?” He shifted from one foot to the other, looking uncomfortable.

  “Yes, but sometimes I hate her almost fatalistic attitude, as though she’s willing to accept whatever happens. She is a fighter, and she has to be.” Leila stood up, reluctant to let him leave. There were so many things she wanted to talk to him about, and so little time. “I'm going to have some wine. Would you like some?"

  “Sure.” He gave her a bad-boy grin. “Glad your mother isn’t around. She didn’t want me drinking a beer.”

  He followed her into the kitchen, where she poured two glasses of Chardonnay. “Mom is highly overly-protective and can be a bit trying at times. Pay her no mind.”

  “I won’t. I’m used to mothers not liking me.”

  “I’m sure you are.” She laughed and handed him a glass. “Ryan, I hope I didn’t offend you earlier, when I said what was on my mind.” What had he been about to say when Callie showed up? She wanted to know. What did he really feel?

  “No worries.” His gaze slid over her face and stopped at her mouth. “And I hope I didn't offend you when I kissed you on my boat that one night. I shouldn’t have done it. You’re my brother’s wife, and I respect that."

  “Widow, not wife.”

  “Same difference.”

  She shook her head. “No, it’s not. He’s gone and I have to get over it.” She sighed, looking down at her wineglass. “Mom thinks I should remarry, if only so Callie can have a father, but I’m not ready to replace him yet." She glanced back up at him. "One day, maybe.”

  His eyes met hers and held, for the briefest of moments. “You won’t be looking long, and some guy is going to be a lucky bastard.”

  She smiled, shaking her head again, but was nevertheless pleased by his flattery. “Once Callie is healthy and happy again, I’ll think about my own needs.”

  “What do you do about those needs now?” he asked. His voice, with its faint, endearing Australian accent, was husky, compelling.

  Her entire body flushed as she remembered her erotic response to his kiss. “I ignore them," she said curtly, annoyed at herself for bringing it up. Hoping to change the subject, she touched the rim of her glass to his. “Cheers, Ryan. You don’t mind if I hero worship you a little, do you? You won’t press the advantage, I hope?”

  He dropped a chaste kiss on her forehead. “Are we going to have this conversation every night?”

  Flustered, embarrassed that she had apparently been seeing sexual intent where there was none, Leila stepped back from him and forced a smile. “No, of course not. It’s over, done with. Never to be brought up again.”

  His eyes looked amused. “You’re sure? Because I get it, I honestly do. You’re not attracted to me, and I’m not attracted to you. You’re my hot looking sister-in-law, and that’s that.”

  “You think I’m hot?” she blurted out.

  “Attractive. Is that a better word?”

  She liked hot better. But she didn’t tell him that. Nodding in the affirmative, she whispered, “Yes.”

  “Good, because I want you to be comfortable around me.”

  She was comfortable around him. That was part of the problem. She felt unnaturally close to him, as though they’d known each other forever. Like kindred spirits or something. Although, if she were completely honest, she’d have to admit there were times when she felt not so comfortable. Moments, when a sexual energy seemed to fill the air between them and her body would tingle with desire. Which made sharing a glass of wine with him in the dead of night probably not one of her brighter moves.

  Ignoring that thought, she led him into the living room, and he sat in one of the chairs near the fireplace.

  “It’s going to be a stressful time for all of us," he continued, "and I sure don’t want to add heat to the fire.”

  She sat down opposite him. “I agree.” She crossed her legs and folded her hands in her lap, then realized she was sitting too primly and allowed her shoulders to relax. She was not going to do anything that might scare him off. “You probably know that I teach every day. Of course I’ll take time off for the surgery and the days immediately following. Mom is a great help, but having you here will also be a break for her.”

  “I don’t think she likes me.” He raised one eyebrow. “Why do I always have that effect on mothers?”

  She laughed. “I can only imagine.” She could easily picture all the mothers warning their daughters to stay clear of a man like Ryan. He looked like a heart-breaker and probably was.

  She sat forward, suddenly serious. “Ryan, I do have to ask you something. I know that you don’t want your parents to know you’re here, but I’m going to have a hard time keeping them away from Callie, in the hospital and once she's back home. They love her, too, and are as concerned about her well-being as we are. I have to tell them she’s getting a transplant, and they will naturally want to be there. I can’t ask them to stay away.”

  “That shouldn’t be a problem.” His jaw hardened and she detected a tick along his cheekbone. “I’m sure I won’t be in the same recovery room as Callie, so my parents won’t know I’m there. If they insist on meeting the 'unknown donor,' you can think up some excuse to ward them off.” He swallowed a mouthful of wine. “I expect you to keep my secret.”

  “Yes, of course.” She had so many questions about his past, but she knew better than to ask. “I understand.”

  “No, you don’t, but let’s leave it at that and call it a night.” He stood up. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Ryan, I--”

  “You don’t know anything about my parents and me, Leila, and I want to keep it that way. Make sure they don’t know it’s me. That’s all I’m asking.”

  “I will do my very best.”

  “Not good enough. Let me reinforce this.” His voice deepened again, bu
t this time it had nothing to do with sex and everything to do with pain and anger. “They are not to know.”

  He left the room. She listened as he climbed the stairs, not moving, her hands unsteady as she held her glass of wine. She was shaken by the turn of the conversation and knew she’d have to tread carefully, for she dearly wanted him as a friend and not an enemy.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The following morning Leila woke to the smell of coffee. She quickly remembered that she had a special guest in her house, and that guest was already up and about. The scent of her favorite brew made her mouth water and she longed for a cup, but now with a man in the house she couldn’t wander down to the kitchen in her bathrobe, unwashed and uncombed.

  Dang it. She really wanted to grab a cup before her shower, but she didn’t want him to see her with hair sticking everywhere and her face plain as parchment paper. She slipped out of bed and into the bathroom. As she waited for the water in the shower to warm up, she studied herself in the mirror. What did he see when he looked at her? She was not unattractive, but she was no spring chicken either. Certainly not like the young women he dated, if Jamie, the second mate on his boat, had been any indication. She had at least ten or twelve years on Jamie, and the past few years had taken their toll. Worry lines had carved deep creases across her brow and Grand-Canyon size gouges ran from her nose to the corners of her mouth.

  Well, that’s what happens when life kicks you in the butt.

  The water was the right temperature, and she dropped her nightgown on the floor and stepped in. As she lathered her skin with a Honeysuckle Melon body wash, she became unusually aware of her various body parts.

  Her breasts felt fuller than usual, her nipples more sensitive. She looked at herself as she washed, wondering what Ryan would think of her body. Would he find her breasts not firm enough, her hips too wide, her legs too thin? Why was she even thinking about this? Why wasn’t she washing as quickly as possible, so she could join him and Callie and have her first cup of coffee?