Harlequin Superromance January 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: A Ranch for His Family\Cowgirl in High Heels\A Man to Believe In (66 page)

He captured her face with his hands and kicked the door closed with his foot. His mouth on hers, he steered away from the windows, hoisting her onto the kitchen counter. He held her against him, still kissing her, a moan rising in his throat. Despite her dress, she managed to wrap her legs around his waist, all control slipping because of the powerhouse descending on her. Peter tapped every ounce of her primal, sexual arousal with a mere look. When he touched her, kissed her, any inhibitions exploded into thin air and left her senses raw.

Suddenly going out seemed like a ridiculous idea.

Reality hit. Beth was home and would know they hadn't left. She broke the kiss.

“Peter...”

He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, his eyes betraying his desire. “Sorry. You look gorgeous. I couldn't help myself.”

She chuckled. “This is the nicest greeting I've ever had. Feel free to repeat it.”

He kissed the bandage at the base of her neck with the utmost tenderness. His voice low, he asked, “How are you this evening?”

She released a sigh, realizing she hadn't taken a long, deep, cleansing breath in a while. Peter's comfort in her personal space seemed so familiar, as if they'd known each other for a lifetime. The sensation niggled at her mind that this man made her feel safe. She pushed the thought away. Steady as she goes.

“Good. How was work?”

He raised a brow. “Nothing crucial. I missed you these past few days.”

“You look surprised I asked.”

“It's been a long time since someone has. Thank you.”

Could it be true? This attractive, wonderful man led a lonely life? “My goodness. You are easy to please.”

“Oh, no. You please me, Cassie. That's what makes it easy.” He helped her from the counter. “Let me look at you. That dress is perfect.”

She ran a hand down the form-fitting, cream-colored crochet-knit dress with sleeves a little too long over her wrists. She'd accented her look with a turquoise necklace, silver hoops and a pair of designer shoes that matched the dress. She'd dressed to kill but would never admit it.

“Oh, this old thing?”

The desire rising in his gaze floored her. “I could make love to you all night long.”

Her insides reacted immediately, that magnetic pull tightening. What was it about him? She'd never felt such a strong attraction to get physical with a man the way she did with Peter. A mischievous grin tugged at her mouth. “I know the feeling, Peter. They'd find our bones because we'd forget to eat.”

He laughed. “Oh, we're going to get along just fine.”

She stepped back to get a full look at him. A black, thin cabled sweater that curved the plane of his chest topped a pair of black, fitted jeans as only Peter could wear them. Seasoned cowboy boots that looked like they'd been made for him, slightly long, sun-lightened hair and intense, dark eyes gave him the air of a rock star. The bruising from his accident was gone. The suture scar practically invisible. Now a mere reminder of how they met. She swallowed the lump rising in her throat. “Wow. You sure are a beautiful sight. And to think, I know what you look like naked.”

“Keep talking like that and we won't make it past the kitchen table.”

Grinning, she opened the door. “I may have to hold you to that someday.”

* * *

P
ETER
REACHED
FOR
Cassie's hand as they headed into Dave's Grill. “Do you mind?”

Her chest tightened despite the fact she'd already decided to present Peter as a love interest to her friends. “I don't mind. We might cause a stir because you and I as an item is happening pretty fast.”

He kissed the back of her hand. “The good part is that it's happening.”

When he said simple things like that, her heart opened a little more. She watched his profile as they walked until he looked at her again, his smile like a sunrise after a too-long night. Peter spoke his mind, expressing his desire for her in simple, honest terms. He said out loud what most men would guard. His honesty felt as good as his arms wrapped around her—or the gentle and comforting strength of his hand holding hers. Wow. How was she going to handle her deepening feelings for him?

He opened the door for her, and one of the owners, Jackie, greeted Cassie with a hug and did little to hide her curiosity about Peter.

“Jackie, meet Peter. New to Montauk. New to the E.R.”

She offered him her hand. “Welcome to town, Peter.” Still grasping his hand, she stage-whispered to Cassie, “I'm suddenly feeling a medical emergency coming on.”

Cassie laughed. “He's a great addition to the team. He has a wonderful beside manner.”

Jackie's smile reached her eyes. “Oh, why am I not surprised?”

Peter grabbed Cassie's hand once more as if to establish his intent toward Cassie. “Luckily, you look like you're in perfect health, Jackie.”

She laughed. “Would you two like a table?”

“Maybe later. We're headed for the bar. We might eat there,” Cassie said.

Brian had already spotted them and waved them over to two seats along the bar. When they approached, he glanced pointedly at their held hands. He said, “Is it Friday already?”

Cassie reached over to kiss Brian on the cheek. The guys launched into exchanging surf stories while behind the bar, Brian prepared their drinks. Peter's thigh brushed hers, causing them both to look at each other. He reached for her hand. Brian had stepped away to serve another customer.

He brushed her ear with his lips. “You smell great. All I want to do is touch you.”

Cassie's heart skipped a beat. He just said what she was thinking but once again, he had uttered the words out loud.

She whispered, “And when you touch me, I have trouble thinking.”

He grinned. “That's very good.”

She sipped her drink, her gaze drifting from Peter to the docks through the open patio. Her attention was caught by a trawler heading in through the stone jetties protecting the harbor, the broad white hull and outriggers making her alert.

A flush of excitement filled her. She stood. “Look! Here comes the
Lady Beth!
”

CHAPTER TWELVE

P
ETER
WATCHED
C
ASSIE
as she greeted the trawler approaching the dock. She looked sexy as hell in that dress, her blond hair curling right down to the sweet dip in her spine where her waist narrowed. She'd stepped out of her shoes to negotiate the dock better. In her bare feet, he could imagine her as a princess greeting her clan coming back from sea. His insides twisted with pride that he'd found this woman. The more time he spent in her company, the more he craved to do whatever it took to keep her in his sights.

The crew waved with grins on their faces as if her greeting was a benediction. God knew he'd feel the same way after weeks at sea. They called to each other, asking about the catch in the comfortable, familiar manner of folks who had interacted with each other for decades. Gulls overhead swarmed, dove, squawked at the trawler's arrival in what must have been a familiar dance with the
Lady Beth,
since the men didn't even notice the noisy birds. The boat smelled of fish, and the birds were going to get their share. No doubt, the fishermen would comply.

Cassie's father expertly maneuvered the boat into the slip with the easy motions of a man with his hands on a woman he knew well and loved. Bobby Michaels's contentment with his fisherman's slice of life showed on his sunburned face and in the clear blue eyes that shot in Peter's direction more than once with a glance that said, you'd better be an honorable man or I'll break your kneecaps.

Peter wanted to laugh out loud, but instead felt a pang of envy. These folks were like their own insulated tribe. He'd like to be welcomed but had nothing to offer...yet. Proving himself was one challenge he'd be happy to meet.

Cassie caught the first dock line one of the guys tossed. Peter stood beside her, ready to take the second man's line. He had no idea what he'd do with it, but did his best to imitate the twists Cassie turned around the anvil-shaped cleat on the edge of the dock.

She inspected his work. “Almost. I'm impressed. Watch.”

She circled the line in a figure eight on each end of the cleat, turned the line under itself and pulled tight.

He grinned. “You'll make a boater out of me yet.”

A look blanched her face. “How about you stick to surfing. I'll run waves with you on my boogie board.”

He understood. The lost boyfriend. He wanted to pull her into his arms and promise that he wasn't going anywhere, but with her father on deck, it didn't seem like a good idea.

“Cassie, look at this beauty!”

One of the hands held up an albacore tuna. “We had a good haul.”

Clad in a fraying Yankees baseball cap, a Montauk lighthouse T-shirt, jeans and stained work boots, Bobby Michaels stepped off the boat every bit a man at peace with his kingdom.

“Dad!” Cassie hurled herself into his arms. “Welcome home.”

Bobby glanced at Peter over Cassie's shoulder. “Glad to be home, honey. What did I miss while I was gone?”

Much to Peter's surprise, Cassie reached for his hand. “Dad, I want you to meet Peter Chapman. He's our newest nurse at the E.R. Peter Chapman, this is my father, Bobby Michaels.”

Bobby's expression grew guarded. “You hold hands with all new nurses?”

Peter extended his hand. “I won't hold yours, but I'd be happy to shake hands with you.”

The older man laughed. “Well, glad to hear that. Peter, is it?”

“Yes, sir.” He glanced at the crew emptying fish from iceboxes. “Looks like you did well out there.”

Bobby looked satisfied. “You never know how it'll go on a run. We did okay.”

Cassie sniffed her father's shirt. “You smell like your catch.”

“Best perfume ever.” His gaze fell on Cassie's bandage. He frowned. “What's that on your neck?”

She shot a glance at Peter. He felt tension blast from her body, but she waved a noncommittal hand. “Nothing important. I'll tell you about it later. Does Mom know you're in?”

“No. I told her I'd be in tomorrow.”

Peter said, “We'll drive you back if you'd like.”

Bobby gestured to the restaurant. “Looks like you were at Dave's.”

Peter didn't miss Cassie's pleased look that he'd made the suggestion. She waved a hand. “Finished up here. We'll grab a pizza and eat at home.”

* * *

B
ETH
WAS
STEPPING
out the kitchen door when they pulled into the driveway. As Bobby got out of Peter's truck, her face lit up.

“Bobby!”

He opened his arms wide. “Baby! I couldn't wait another day.”

She stepped into his arms. They kissed soundly and hugged long and hard. Bobby rocked her slowly, back and forth. Beth had her eyes closed, a smile on her face as if this were a ritual between a wife with a husband who returned from a long and dangerous job.

Peter reached for Cassie's hand. “Your parents are very cool.”

She nodded. “Dad likes you.”

He raised a brow. “Oh, yeah? How do you know?”

She lifted the pizza box in her lap. “He would have insisted we stay at the restaurant if he didn't like the looks of you. Afterward, he'd catch up with me to give me an earful.”

He mouthed an “oh.”

She smiled back. “Yeah. You can relax now. Let's get this pizza inside.”

The four of them sat around the kitchen table with the pizza, a salad that Cassie had thrown together, iced teas and beers all around. Beth was radiant sitting next to her husband.

Bobby had taken a fast shower. Salt and sea down the drain, his dark, slightly graying hair still damp, he looked relaxed in a Cuban smoking shirt and jeans. Around a bite of pizza, Bobby said to Beth, “I'll go with you to Judy and Micky's. Don't want to stop your plans.”

Beth smiled. “Doesn't matter. Didn't think you'd want to stray far your first night home.”

“Next door is not far. Let's go over. A few rounds of whist would be fun. Micky needs a good trouncing.”

“Okay. After we eat.”

Bobby turned his sights on Peter. “So, what brings you all the way from California?”

Peter expected to be drilled, and decided he'd be direct with his answers. “My responsibilities changed. I graduated from nursing school and had nothing keeping me in Los Angeles. I saw this job and decided to check out Long Island's farthest point.”

Without blinking an eye, Bobby asked, “Any family?”

He wasn't proud of his heritage, but he was proud of his brother and his own achievements. “My parents divorced when I was young. Not much contact with my dad. My mother is mentally ill and was institutionalized before I left. I have a brother in San Francisco. He's great.”

Bobby tossed the finished pizza crust into the box on the table and helped himself to another slice. “Sounds like you had an interesting upbringing.”

Peter swallowed some beer. “Actually, it was hellish. But, hey, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. My brother and I did okay despite the odds.”

Cassie was watching him, concern darkening her eyes. He had no trouble changing the subject. “Bobby, did you know I wrecked my truck driving into town my first morning here?”

Bobby didn't miss the grins on Beth's and Cassie's faces. “I take it there's a story behind this.”

Beth said, “From what I gather, Cassie was the first Montauk resident who Peter saw when driving into town. She was riding her bike. Peter became distracted by our daughter and almost hit two deer.”

Peter laughed. “It's not fair that you guys sent your secret weapon out when I hadn't slept in twenty-four hours.”

Bobby pointed to Peter's forehead. “The stitches?”

“Yes.”

Cassie added, “Hitting the tree knocked Peter out. I had the pleasure of greeting him when he regained consciousness in the E.R.”

Bobby chuckled. “Oh, I'll bet you did.” He gestured between the two of them. “So all this holding hands is because you feel guilty for causing Peter to crash?”

Peter grinned when he saw the color rise in Cassie's face. “Speaking for myself, I certainly hope not.”

Cassie shrugged. “Sorry, Dad. I was checking him out as hard as he was looking at me. I'm calling it kismet.”

Bobby sipped his beer. “Okay. What are you calling that bandage on your neck?”

Cassie grew quiet. Beth sat back in her chair. Peter kept his mouth shut.

Bobby looked at both of them. “It's a biopsy. Isn't it?”

Cassie nodded. “Yes. Doc took it.”

“What's wrong?”

“I had my physical last week. My white blood cell count is too high.” Cassie gestured to the bandage. “This lymph node has been swollen for a while.”

Bobby put his beer down on the table and stared at Cassie as if he'd already lost her.

She held up a hand. “Dad, we don't know yet.”

He shook his head. “Yeah, we do. The same thing happened with Judy.”

“I don't have any lumps in my breasts. My pap smear was normal last month.”

Bobby scrubbed his face with a hand. “So, what do you think it is?”

Beth touched his arm. “Better safe than sorry?”

“We'll go with that.” He stood. “Come on, honey. Why don't we head over to Micky's?”

* * *

T
HE
PRESSURE
OF
tears filled Cassie's eyes after her parents left the house. “Oh, God. It's happening again.”

Peter pulled her out of her chair and into his arms. “Cassie, don't. Your father didn't handle the news well. He'll get with the program.”

She wrapped her arms around herself despite Peter's arms around her. Her insides were freezing. “You don't understand.”

“I probably don't. But if you were my daughter, I certainly wouldn't have walked out on you like that.”

“He's scared. He did this when Mom and Aunt Judy were sick.”

“And your mom and your aunt are alive to tell their stories. Believe me, he'll calm down. He's probably just tired.”

“I want to go home.”

He made a lame joke. “I can take you. It's not far.”

They walked to her cottage holding hands in silence. The night air was warm. The stars overhead swirled in a mass of constellations. This could be an incredibly romantic night but from the set of Cassie's jaw, romance was the furthest thought from her mind. It didn't matter. Peter could touch her heart in other ways.

She led him into the cottage, closing the door behind them. In the dark, she wrapped her arms around his waist and laid her cheek on his chest.

He wrapped his arms around her. “What a week you've had, Cassie. Between the stress of the biopsy and the excitement with your dad coming home, you must be beat.”

“Hold me for a minute before you leave?”

His heart ached at the unhappy sound of her voice. “What makes you think I'm going?”

She grew quiet in his arms.

Peter caressed her head, her honey curls smoothing beneath the palm of his hand. “I'm not leaving you alone.”

“Peter, I—”

He touched a finger to her lips. “Shush. I won't ravage your exquisite body. Not tonight, anyway. I just want to be with you.”

She shook her head. “I think it's best if you go.”

He took her hand. “Come on. I take it your bedroom is this way?”

“Peter!”

“Trust me, Cassie.”

He led her by the moonlight to the hallway behind the living room. A single bedroom washed in silvery light from the windows took up the entire back of the cottage. When he stepped into the room, Cassie's perfume invaded his senses as if her essence permeated this small sanctuary. He felt along the wall for a light switch. A stained-glass lamp on the nightstand flared to life and cast hues of green, blue, orange and violet against the wall and ceiling. He sat her on the edge of her bed. “Where is your bathroom?”

She pointed to a door in the corner of the room. “Over there.”

He kissed her forehead. “Wait here.”

Intending to start a warm shower, he changed his mind when he saw the antique claw-foot tub big enough for two in the surprisingly large bathroom. This would work as long as he was careful not to get her bandage wet. Heck, if he did, he'd change it. That's what nurses did.

Adding bath salts from the glass urn standing on a small table, he began filling the tub with hot water. The air filled with the scents of eucalyptus and lavender. Good antidotes for relaxation. He pulled two thick white towels and a washcloth from the antique cabinet next to the sink and placed them on top, lit candles on a three-tiered stand and dimmed the overhead lights to a dusky hue. Checking the water temperature to make sure it was perfect, he returned to Cassie.

She was frowning. “What are you doing?”

“Preparing your bath.”

“I took a shower earlier. I don't need a bath.”

Even tired, her petulance was sexy. “You'd be surprised how badly you do. I'm making the water nice and hot to relax those tense muscles. Now, just humor me. Okay?”

Cassie sighed. “I'm too beat to argue with you.”

He grinned. “Good.”

He slid his hands behind her neck.

Her faces inches from his, she said, “Now what?”

“I'm removing your necklace.”

Her skin felt warm, soft. Tiny goose bumps rose beneath his fingers as he searched for the clasp. He felt satisfaction at the way her body responded to his touch. Releasing the catch, he slid the necklace off. He eased the silver hoops from her ears, careful to put both on the nightstand.

“That necklace looks beautiful on you.”

She smiled. “One of my favorites. Made by a jeweler from the Shinnecock tribe.”

Running a palm down her calf, he unfastened one sandal. Then the other. He placed them together on the floor. Taking both her hands he guided her to her feet, turning her back to him. “No zipper?”