Читать книгу 12 Gifts for Christmas - Джулия Кеннер, Джулия Кеннер - Страница 21

ALLY tried to ease away from the grip he had on her arm, but he refused to let her go yet.

“Des … please listen. We may have just met, but you and I shared a life-and-death experience, which puts our relationship on a different level. I believe in being honest and assume you do, too. Wouldn’t you have preferred to learn the truth about your fiancée at the beginning, instead of the eleventh hour?”

He grimaced. “Ah, I see. So you’ve decided to kill whatever relationship might develop between us right now. But why? What truth are you so afraid of?”

“I have my reasons. I’m sorry.” She removed her arm and got up, putting the chair back against the wall, ready to leave.

His brows furrowed. “No, you’re not.”

“Please don’t be angry with me.”

“That’s the last emotion I’m feeling.”

“Then I’m glad.”

“You’re not making sense. Help me understand.”

She breathed deeply. Get out of here, Ally. “I’d rather not talk about this, especially after your harrowing ordeal.”

“Come over here. Por favor.”

Even though her mind was screaming at her to run, she wasn’t immune to his throbbing entreaty. She hesitantly walked over to the side rail. “Is there something else I can do for you? Open your suitcase and get things out, maybe?”

“No. The nurse will do it.” Once more he reached for the hand closest to him. Turning it over, he kissed the palm then looked up at her. “I forgot to thank you for saving my life.”

The touch of Des’s lips against the skin of her hand sent a sizzle through Ally’s body, setting her on fire. Earlier his thumb had made lazy circles over the pulse at her wrist, shooting an erotic warmth through her body, causing sensations she was afraid to acknowledge.

“No woman of my acquaintance could or would have done what you did for me. If there’s anything I can do for you, all you have to do is ask.”

She could ask that if he ever saw her mastectomy scars, he wouldn’t reject her and turn away, but that was a pipe dream.

Ally took a fortifying breath. “It’s because of me that you had the accident. The only favor I ask is that you get well soon. That means no winter sports for a little while.”

He kissed her fingertips before letting her go. “If I’m going to deny myself, then I’m going to need someone to help me get through the withdrawal period.”

Ally broke down laughing. She couldn’t help it. “I believe you’d go into withdrawal.”

He shot her devilish glance. “There are certain indoor sports I enjoy even more than climbing.”

That came as no surprise. Once upon a time she’d shared the same sentiment, but those days were over. He wouldn’t want her when he saw the truth for himself. “I do, too, as a matter of fact. How good are you at Scrabble? I bought the children the junior version to help them with their English.”

“They won’t mind if we christen it first?”

“Not if we all play,” she said on a burst of inspiration. It was the only thing she could think of to keep him at bay. “You can be on their side. You’ll need the handicap,” she said, adding the dare to spice things up. In reality his English was so good, she probably wouldn’t be able to beat him.

“You’re on,” he said with a speculative gleam in those black eyes.

Before either of them could say anything else, the nurse came in.

Ally’s eyes darted to Des. “I’ll go now, but I’ll be over in the morning to get you.”

“No good-night kiss?”

Her body tautened. “You already got one kiss this evening. Let’s not tempt fate. Next time you might find yourself kissing the Ugly Duckling.”

Des’s face suddenly looked like a thundercloud. That was good.

“Buenas noches, Señor.”

“Rest when you’re sleepy. Eat what appeals to you and you will be fine in a few days, Señor Pastrana.”

Des thanked the doctor as they left the clinic. Per the doctor’s orders, Des let Ally carry his suitcase for him and drive him home. His adrenaline had surged when she’d entered his hospital room at eleven o’clock, dressed in jeans and a bright red pullover.

The hair he longed to run his fingers through had been tied at the nape with a narrow red ribbon. Tiny red-and-green Christmas ornaments dangled from each end. It would be so easy to tug on one of them, allowing the silklike strands to swing loose… .

Her comment about the Ugly Duckling had bothered him all night. He understood the metaphor from the old fairy tale well enough, but there was nothing ugly about Ally, inside or out. He knew that to the depth of his soul. She was a stunning woman who had little conception of her impact on a man. Her lack of awareness was part of what made her so desirable. Her beauty radiated outward to that creamy skin he longed to caress.

But clearly she didn’t think the same about herself. Before the day was out he intended to uncover the secret she’d alluded to, tossing it down like a gauntlet. The list of possible secrets was starting to drive him crazy. It was a challenge, and he’d never passed up a challenge. It wasn’t in his nature.

Yet for some reason Des had the premonition that this would be the most important one he would ever face. The feeling shook him.

After she parked the truck outside his room at the inn, she hurried to the door and unlocked it for him.

Now that the nausea had gone and his forehead wasn’t as sore, he felt surprisingly good and would have enjoyed a short walk in the frigid air with her. But he decided that for once he would follow doctor’s orders. Plus it would get him a lot further with Ally, who still felt some ridiculous residual guilt for having gone climbing with him.

He was the one who felt guilty. If the truth were known, he’d taken one look at her in the dining room and something shocking had happened to him.

For so long he’d avoided women, not wanting any entanglements, but after Miguel had unintentionally laid the groundwork, Des realized he wanted to get to know the beautiful American woman who was so beloved by Maricela and Nuncio. You couldn’t fool children. They saw through to the heart of a person.

He paused at the door of his room. Things had changed since he’d last been in his monk’s cell. A fire blazed in the hearth, and there was a two-foot-high Christmas tree decorated with lights and ornaments placed on the dresser to greet him. The scent of pine was one of those wonderful smells, intoxicating and comforting.

“I hope you don’t mind the additions,” Ally said in a quiet voice as she brought in his suitcase. “It’s too dark in here without any windows and today is Christmas Eve.”

Touched by her generosity of spirit that showed in everything she did, he looked around. On the small wooden table—

one of the original pieces he’d kept—she’d added some snacks and drinks and a few Spanish sports magazines. She’d thought of everything.

She saw where his eyes had wandered. “Those are meant to help with the withdrawal.”

He couldn’t hold off any longer and he reached for her, gripping her arms to bring her close. Her eyes were like warm brandy, but they were conflicted. He could see fear in them, but he also found the emotion he was looking for. Desire.