Читать книгу Second-Time Lucky - Laurie Paige - Страница 10

Jeff reacted without thinking. He went to Caileen, sat beside her on the sofa and put an arm around her shoulders while she sobbed.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I’m just…overwhelmed right now.”

“That’s okay.” He tried to think of a word that might apply to her problems, whatever they were. “Life seems unfair at times, but things have a way of working out.” There, that sounded vaguely wise. And, he hoped, comforting.

“For better or for worse?” she questioned with more than an edge of bitterness.

The phrase from the traditional marriage vows gave him a clue. “Have you recently broken off with someone?”

“No!”

She was so adamant he believed her at once. He couldn’t think of anything else to say, so he shut up. When she rested partly against him and partly against the sofa back, he found he liked the weight of her body on his.

When she turned toward him, he could feel the pressure of her breast against his side, and the warmth of her leg against his. She laid her right arm across his lap while she slid the other between his back and the sofa.

His libido sprang to hot, hard and instant attention.

He tried to suck in his stomach so she wouldn’t feel the pulsating ridge if she moved her arm just a fraction of an inch. Unfortunately he could only withdraw so far.

She sighed and leaned more into him. He knew the moment she became aware of his predicament.

Neither moved for a stunned moment, then she tilted her head against his shoulder, her eyes searching his as if bent on finding some great truth he was determined to hide.

He observed her, too. Her lips looked soft, full and inviting. They trembled with each breath. Her nose was pink on the tip, her eyes were red-rimmed and shimmering with unshed tears, and the moisture-laden lashes attractively outlined her eyes.

The color of her irises reminded him of the aqua green depths of the sea around the Caribbean islands he’d once explored while taking a special course in strategic sea tactics as a Ranger.

Her skin was smooth as he traced the tracks of the tears and dried them gently with his fingers. He ran one finger along her lips, which were soft to the touch and also vulnerable with the sorrow she evidently felt.

“What’s bothering you?” he asked, his voice going deep and husky as the internal hunger increased.

“Zia.”

“Kids and parents often have differences.”

She nodded against his shoulder and sighed again. Her breath softly penetrated his shirt, bringing a flush to his skin and yearning throughout his body. He wanted to search that full, mobile mouth with his own, to find the sweetness he instinctively knew was there, waiting for him to taste.

Everything about her shouted woman to his starved senses. He shook his head slightly. Damn, but he must be on the verge of stark raving lunacy.

“Uh, Mrs. Peters…Caileen,” he began, then stopped, not knowing where to go from there.

She tilted her head back again to gaze at him.

The movement cut right through the tether he’d managed to rope around his personal needs over the past months. He grabbed at the fraying ends of his control, but it was no use. Without thinking further, he bent his head and kissed her…and kissed her…and kissed her…

The touch of their lips, the pressure of their bodies against each other and the sheer pleasure in the embrace hit him on several levels at once. Excitement buzzed through his head, making his mind hazy, yet an odd sense of contentment settled like a blanket around his shoulders, shutting out the wintry chill of loneliness he hadn’t known he had.

As he’d suspected—she was a tempting woman.

Caileen wasn’t sure why she wasn’t pulling back in shock and indignation at their mutual passion.

The feelings flooding through her combined bliss with anticipation, warmth with contentment and an excitement she hadn’t experienced in a long time, nothing even close to shock and indignation.

“Ages,” she murmured when his lips moved from her mouth to her ear, then down her jaw and to her throat. “It’s been ages since I’ve felt this.”

“Me, too,” he admitted in a low growly tone that sent ripples along every nerve.

He stroked her back with gentle, soothing caresses, his touch at once tender and passionate and masterful. His eyes were dark and sexy and inviting. She wanted to dive right into those exciting depths and never come up.

“This is so odd,” she told him. “It isn’t like me at all.” She sounded very uncertain. It occurred to her that maybe this moment was more closely linked to her true self than any other occurrence during the past few years.

Cupping her face in his hands, he peered into her eyes. “What are you like?” he asked.

“I’m very serious,” she explained. “I consider every aspect of a situation. I—I don’t go off the deep end like this. I’m not sure what we’re doing…”

His chuckle was wry, as if he laughed at all human foibles, not just theirs. “Comforting each other, I think.”

Put that way, it didn’t sound so awful. Everyone could use a little compassion at times.

She inhaled sharply when his lips sought hers again. She felt his tongue sweep over her lips and opened her mouth so they could explore each other more thoroughly.

It was the nicest sensation, a soft, moist coming together that seemed just right for this moment in time…a time out of time, really.

When she raised her arm to stroke his chest through the smooth cotton of his shirt, he shifted them so that he leaned into the corner of the sofa and she rested across his lap. The change in position gave them more intimate access to each other. She liked that.

As they kissed, she explored the breadth of his shoulders and the strength of his biceps. When she caressed along his torso, his muscles tensed so that she felt the ripple effect of his toned abs.

“You’re strong,” she said when they came up for breath, as if she’d just discovered this enchanting fact.

“It’s my work,” he murmured, placing tiny kisses all over her face. “And the sculptures. They’re heavy.”

“They’re lovely.” She kissed the heavily beating pulse in his throat. “I saw the statue of the maiden and the swan you made for the fountain in town. It was beautiful.”

“Leda and the Swan, from Greek mythology. Did you know the swan was Zeus in disguise?”

“No.”

“He changed form so he could seduce her.”

Caileen drew back enough to gaze into his eyes. “Is that what you’re doing to me?”

He shook his head, his gaze lambent, his smile oddly gentle. “I wouldn’t try to trick a woman.”

“Ah, an honest man.”

“I hope so.” His manner was rueful.

His voice dropped an octave, becoming deep and riveting with a rich sexual nuance. With something like shock, and yet she wasn’t altogether surprised, she responded to him with a need so strong she wondered why she hadn’t been aware of it in the past.

Because she hadn’t met this man before now?

A shaky sigh escaped her as she gave herself to the passion and the moment, knowing this was insane, knowing tomorrow would bring regret—knowing and not caring.

Jeff forced himself from the honey of her mouth and gazed into her eyes. The irises were huge, indicative of the passion that raged between them. He knew his were the same.

He also knew she wasn’t ready to follow the desire to its logical conclusion. He wasn’t sure he was, either. To get involved with the person who had ultimate control over his life with the children was just plain stupid.

Reluctantly he let the blood cool between them until they could both think clearly once more. When she sat up, her manner reflected the confusion and dismay she felt at their indiscretion.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I’m so very sorry…”

He forced a smile. “I think that’s where we were when this all started.”

She nodded, her eyes wide and serious, as if she were in shock that she could have acted so wantonly. For some reason, that made him angry.

“Don’t worry about it,” he advised. “Even the coolest head can become overheated in the right circumstances.”

“I’m not supposed to lose control,” she said. “I’m supposed to take charge.”

He rose, figuring he’d outstayed his welcome by a wide margin. “Look, this wasn’t a very good start to what promises to be a long relationship. Call it an aberration of the moment. Anyway, let’s put it behind us. Okay?”

She had to think this over for a long time, it seemed to him. “Yes. You’re right,” she said. “It was my fault. I’ve been worried…. But that isn’t your problem.” She shook her head slightly as if getting her mind on track once more. “Let me get those books.”

He was almost angry again at her evident relief at getting back to business. She hurried over to a tall bookcase and removed three volumes. “Has Krista read any of the Anne of Green Gables books?”

“I don’t know.”

“Oh. Well, try these. I’ll write down some titles next week. You can take her to the library and get her a card so she can check them out on her own. That would be a good thing—”

She stopped abruptly. Her eyes went to the sofa behind him. He wondered if she was thinking their kisses had been a good thing. As far as he was concerned, they had been.

Damn good. And damn stupid on his part.

It was obvious by the way she wouldn’t quite meet his eyes that she felt the same. He heaved a weary sigh and bid her good night.

After taking the books and leaving the house, he drove home deep in thought. He couldn’t alienate the tempting social worker. She was far too important in the life of his newly acquired family.

He realized he’d never considered that she might have worries of her own. He could sympathize with her concern over her daughter. It was far easier to tell others how to manage their affairs than figure out how to handle your own problems.

The evening had slipped into dusk by the time he arrived at the house. The lights inside beckoned him.

Going to the door, he saw the kids were in the living room, all with books in their hands, their faces identical expressions of concentration.

A surge of warmth hit his heart as he went inside.

He had to be careful, he realized. He couldn’t do anything to jeopardize their right to live here, such as make a fool of himself over their counselor.

Caution was called for. He was good at strategy, he reminded himself sternly, and the best strategy was to keep his distance and maintain a grip on his libido.

Saturday morning, Caileen carried her coffee outside and sat under the vine-covered arbor. The sun was up, and the day was supposed to be warm. She basked in the peace and quiet. Her tenants—a young couple, both teachers—on the other side of the house usually slept late on the weekends, so she had the place to herself.

As soon as the neighbors were stirring, she would get the grass mowed and do some pruning of shrubs. She’d written up the reports she’d scheduled to do that morning, so she was caught up.

She’d also come to terms with her illogical behavior with Jeff. Worry. That’s what it was. The passion had been a release of her pent-up fears.

To err is human; to forgive, divine.

Around midnight she’d taken the old adage to heart and decided to forgive the loss of control that led to her inappropriate actions of the previous evening. Besides, going over and over the event hadn’t solved a thing.

Next, she’d determined to get some sleep. Amazingly, she’d fallen into bed and into a restful slumber. Although it was early, she felt as if she’d slept a solid eight hours and was ready for the new day.

An hour later, she pushed the reel-type mower through the grass and finished the backyard in record time. After mowing the tiny patch of lawn in front of the duplex, she worked the rest of the morning on pruning bushes and removing the mulch from flower beds so the sun could warm the ground and wake the plants from their winter’s rest.

At noon, she showered and put on fresh slacks and a long-sleeved T-shirt, then ate a sandwich, again choosing to sit on the back porch.

Around the neighborhood, families worked on flower beds, washed cars or chatted over the low fences between yards. Caileen inhaled the wonderful aroma of fresh-cut grass and that of baking bread. Her neighbor two doors down loved to cook and favored everyone with the delicious results.

Caileen glanced at her watch. It was after one. Ignoring the faint maternal prod of concern, she decided to go to the grocery store while she still had the car.

After checking supplies and making a list, she drove to the supermarket and did the weekly shopping. She wondered how Tony’s hamburgers and gelatin side dish had been received by Jeff and the other two.

In line at the checkout counter, she realized she was smiling as she thought of them. She touched her lips as if to be sure the smile was real. It was.

When it was her turn, she stacked the groceries on the moving belt and ran her credit card through the machine while Thelma, who’d worked there for the twelve years she’d lived in town, scanned the items. She was signing the credit slip when an ambulance rushed by, its siren warning others to clear a path. She and the clerk glanced up.

“I hope no one was injured in an accident.” Thelma frowned and shook her head. “My grandson got arrested for drag racing last weekend. My son is thinking about grounding him for life.”

“Teenagers can be reckless,” Caileen agreed.

“Ah, well, they grow out of it.”

Thelma finished bagging the groceries and loaded them onto the cart. Caileen left the store, her gaze going toward the street and the small hospital that served the community.

At the emergency portico, she saw the paramedics lift out a gurney and wheel it inside. The sunlight reflected from the plastic IV bag that dangled above the patient.

On the way home, she found herself dwelling on the scene and realized it was worry over her daughter that troubled her. After all, a trip to the hospital could be a joyous occasion—for instance, the birth of a child.

She remembered how frightened she’d been on the way to the hospital to have her baby. She’d been not quite twenty-one years old and alone. Brendon had gotten a job at a construction site that summer and was working long hours.

At home, she stored the food, her mind still on the past. As inexperienced parents, she and her husband had been terrified of the tiny child now in their keeping, but they’d both fallen in love with her.

Caileen finished her task, then paused and considered those long-ago days and two months of fatigue before Zia had slept the night through. Brendon had been good about helping then. When had things gone wrong for them?

When she’d wanted a stable home and a steady source of income. When she’d decided it was time for them—both of them—to grow up.

Maybe she’d expected too much.

Before she could dwell on this, the telephone rang. She grabbed the wall phone at the end of the counter. “Hello?”

Expecting her daughter’s voice, she was surprised when a masculine voice inquired, “Mrs. Peters?”

“Yes?”

“This is Sammy. Uh, Zia’s been hurt.”

“Hurt? How? Where is she?”

“At the hospital. You’d better come down. She asked for you before she, uh, passed out.”

Caileen wanted to ask a hundred questions, but she refrained. “I’ll be right there,” she promised and hung up.

Grabbing her purse, she dug out the keys while she ran to the car. On the road, she wouldn’t let herself go more than ten miles over the speed limit even though she wanted to floor the pedal. She parked at the curb near the emergency room and dashed inside.

“I’m Caileen Peters,” she told the woman behind the admitting desk. “My daughter, Zia, was brought in a short time ago?” Her voice trailed upward into a question.

“Mmm, Peters, yes. The surgeon is with her. I have some forms for you to sign.”

“What happened?” Caileen demanded, ignoring the forms as panic rose inside her. “Why is she in surgery?”

“A car accident,” the woman said sympathetically. “Your daughter is doing fine. Her blood pressure stabilized shortly after the ambulance crew put the IV in. The floor nurse will be with you in a minute. She’ll give you a full report.”

Caileen digested the information while a hundred questions whirled through her mind.

The woman held out a pen. “Fill out the form and sign at the bottom. Do you have insurance?”

“Yes, through the county. I’m with Family Services.”

Her hand trembling slightly, Caileen signed the papers. When she was finished, a nurse told her Zia was in surgery to repair a torn blood vessel. “But what happened?” she asked. “How did she get injured?”

“A piece of metal hit her in the neck, causing a jagged edge to nick an artery,” the nurse said gently. “Your daughter was lucky that no other damage was done. Here’s the waiting room. The surgeon will see you when he’s finished. Your daughter’s friend is here, too.”

Caileen went into the quiet, tastefully furnished room. The aroma of fresh coffee filled the air. “Sammy,” she said, spotting the handsome young man sitting in a kitchen chair at a table. “What happened?”

He avoided her eyes. “There was an accident.”

“In your pickup?”

He hesitated, then shook his head. “Two of the guys were, uh, sort of racing. They sideswiped each other and a piece of chrome flew off and hit Zia on the side of her neck.”

“Drag racing?” Caileen asked, recalling the grocery clerk’s remarks.

Sammy nodded. “A lot of people use the old back road, the one near the campground, to check out their engines. We were standing beside the road, watching.”

Caileen suppressed the anger his words caused. Now wasn’t the time to accuse him of putting her child in danger. Zia had gone of her own accord. “What happened after the injury?”

“She was bleeding a lot,” he said, gesturing helplessly. “I held a handkerchief against the wound while someone called the ambulance on a cell phone.”

Caileen stared at his hands as he clasped them and leaned forward, his forearms on his thighs. He had large hands, a man’s hands, but his expression was that of a boy who’d been caught in some mischief. He was twenty-one, an adult by law. She sighed and poured a cup of coffee, then took a seat opposite him.

Another person came into the room. She glanced up and her eyes met those of Jeff Aquilon. She stared at him.

He nodded, walked over to the counter and got a cup of coffee, then stopped by the table. “May I join you?” he asked.

“Yes. What are you doing here?” She realized how rude that sounded. “Is everything all right?”

“With my family, yes. The hospital called and asked if Jeremy and I could give blood. We’re both O negative.”

“Universal donors,” Sammy said.

“Zia is A negative,” Caileen said, trying to put all these facts together into a whole.

“I understand she was injured in a car accident,” Jeff said. His gaze settled on Sammy. “You should know better than to bring women along when you’re doing something stupid.”

Caileen was surprised when Sammy’s ears and face reddened. “We always have meets on the weekends. No one ever got injured before,” he said defensively.

“Yeah,” Jeff said in an unforgiving tone. “There’s always a first time, and then you learn.”

“You gave blood for Zia?” Caileen asked, interrupting the other two.

The dark eyes flicked to her. “Yes.”

“Your nephew is giving blood, too?”

“Yes.”

A rush of gratitude flowed through her. “Thank you,” she said. “That was kind of you. And your nephew.”

He shrugged. “We’re on a special call list with the hospital. Blood supplies are low due to lack of donors.” Again his hard gaze settled on the younger man. “You should persuade your friends to come down and give blood. That way, you can make up in part for the harm you’ve caused.”

Sammy swallowed, his throat working as though he’d bitten off a large bite and was having trouble getting it down. “I will,” he said hoarsely.

Caileen felt sorry for him. He looked as if he might burst into tears at any moment.

“And you can apologize to her mother.”

Caileen didn’t know what to say as Sammy apologized for putting her daughter in danger. “Thank you,” she finally murmured when Sammy stopped his faltering apology. “However, Zia is an adult. I suppose she chose to be there.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Jeff spoke before Sammy could. “Even an independent woman trusts her boyfriend to take care of her. Right?” He narrowed his eyes and stared at Sammy.

“Yes, sir.”

Caileen almost expected Sammy to stand at attention and salute. The tense little scene was interrupted by the arrival of Jeff’s nephew. He walked into the room with a bandage around his elbow.

“Sit here,” his uncle advised. “You want some juice? The nurse said there was plenty in the fridge.”

Jeremy took the chair. “Please.” He looked Sammy over. “You the guy who took her to the illegal drag race?”

That he didn’t think much of the other young man was clear. Sammy nodded, looking miserable. Caileen kept her mouth shut.

“Are you Zia’s mother?” he asked after thanking his uncle for a box of orange juice. He stuck a straw in it and took a long drink.

“Yes, I am,” Caileen answered. She studied Jeff and Jeremy, noting how alike they were with their dark, dark eyes, thick, brown-black hair and serious air. “You have a class with her at college, I understand.”

Jeremy smiled. It did wonders for his face, just the way Jeff’s smiles lit up his countenance, she noticed.

“Yeah. She’s one smart kid.”

Caileen smiled and agreed. It was amusing to hear this young man call her daughter a kid. From her info on the family, she knew Jeremy was three months younger than Zia.

However, he seemed older, Caileen acknowledged. He’d taken on the responsibility of protecting his younger cousins—step-cousins actually—last year and had cared for them with no outside help for months.

She glanced at Jeff, who silently observed the exchange. He was a person who didn’t duck his responsibility to his family, either. Like uncle, like nephew?

For a second, she wished her child would find someone like Jeremy to date. And for a second longer, she wished she’d found someone like Jeff when she was nineteen and idealistic…

The doctor came in just then. “Mrs. Peters?”

She stood. “Yes?”

A large warm hand found hers. She glanced at Jeff, who’d also risen and was standing beside her. She stared at the surgeon in dread.

“Zia is fine. She’s weak from the loss of blood, but she’s young and healthy. She’ll be ready to go home in the morning. I don’t expect any complications.”

Caileen nodded. She realized she was squeezing the life out of Jeff’s hand and let go, embarrassed at clinging to him as if she were one of those neurotic TV mothers.

The doctor glanced at Sammy. “There’s a policeman in the lobby wanting a statement from you.”

Going pale, Sammy rose and hurried down the corridor to the main lobby.

“Thanks to both of you for coming in,” the doctor continued, his eyes on Jeff and Jeremy.

“It was no trouble,” Jeff assured him.

“Yeah, but next time tell the nurse not to use that rusty needle,” Jeremy quipped, giving his bandaged arm a pained glance.