Never Let Go (4 page)

Steadier on her feet now and all-too-aware of the proximity of Justin’s scantily clad body, Mallory tried to inch away from him, but his hands around her waist held firm. Those hands, so supple and powerful, made her feel incredibly delicate. When his thumbs absentmindedly began a slow, up-and-down massage of her ribs, a jolt of electricity raced through her.

Whether by accident or design, her arms were wedged between her body and Justin’s chest. He was wearing one of those jogging shirts that consisted of little more than a scrap of cloth and some sort of open-weave fabric. Mallory had always had difficulty deciding what to do with her hands under the best of conditions. With Justin’s broad chest tempting her, she felt exactly the way Adam must have when Eve waved an apple under his nose.

Then she thought
about how he’d walked away before, after kissing her practically senseless. If the man thought he could come on to her any time he liked and then vanish at the first sign of an honest emotion, he could just think again!

“Well, nice to see you,” she said blithely, taking a determined step backward. “I suppose we’ll run into each other at the hospital sooner or later. See you around.”

She had taken exactly two strides in her pink sneakers, when a shadow loomed over her. Justin fell into step beside her, which wasn’t the easiest thing in the world for him to do, considering the difference in the length of their legs. He probably could have crawled faster than she jogged.

“Mallory, about the other night.”

She felt her throat go dry, and it had nothing to do with being parched from the heat. In fact, it was a lovely, cool day. “Yes,” she said tightly.

“It shouldn’t have happened.”

“Probably not,” she said agreeably, though her heart seemed to thud to a miserable halt at his declaration. “But it did.”

“That doesn’t mean it can happen again.”

She stopped so quickly he almost tripped over her. Putting her hands on her hips, she glared at him furiously. “Exactly what are you trying to say, Dr. Whitmore? Do you object to the kiss itself, the location or the fact that it was me?”

“There can’t be anything between us,” he said stoutly, avoiding the specifics of her question.

“And exactly why not, doctor? Is a mere Ph.D. not good enough for you?”

“Damn it, that’s not it at all. We’re just not right for each other.” Justin glowered back at her, his body tense with a feeling of frustration and an unfamiliar longing that went counter to every hypocritical word he was uttering. He was trying to tell a woman who made the blood surge through his veins that there was nothing between them, when both of them knew perfectly well that there was. The fact that his jogging shorts were growing increasingly uncomfortable was proof enough of that.

But, he reminded
himself, he had long since outgrown the days when you bedded a woman just because your body told you to. The irony for him, of course, was the fact that he didn’t dare sleep with a woman who threatened his independence either. It made for a damn lonely existence, which was probably why he’d been doomed from the minute he’d run across this little hellcat. She was not about to let him take the easy way out.

Even now, she was saying, “Would you care to elaborate on that? If it’s not my degree that’s bothering you, is our difference in height the problem? Or maybe it’s our backgrounds? Do you come from old money? Would your family look down on someone who works for a living?”

Suddenly Justin couldn’t bear to hear another sarcastic word. Before he could think about what he was doing, his lips were on hers. She was still muttering accusations, which only made the kiss that much more provocative. She was also wriggling to get away from him, her body slippery and fluid as a snake’s when she writhed in his arms.

“Damn it, hold still,” he murmured harshly, holding her tight against him. His breath was coming in ragged gasps, but he was far more concerned about what a sudden departure would tell the world about the state of his libido.

“I will not hold still.”

“Then I’ll have to make
you,” he said ominously, slipping an arm across her bottom and tilting her into the cradle of his hips. Mallory stilled instantly, and he heard a tiny sigh whisper through her lips.

His voice went soft and became tinged with amusement. “That’s better.” Actually it was sheer torture. At this rate, he wouldn’t be able to release her for hours.

They stood that way for what seemed an eternity, every muscle in his body tensed with rampaging desire. His conscience was at war with the rest of him, but eventually it won, and his body began to relax. He wasn’t the least bit sure he was pleased about it. A lesser man might have given in, taken Mallory home and made love to her until both their passions were sated. Even as he loosened his hold on her, the idea seemed very attractive.

With a sigh, though, he let her go. “It seems I keep doing this, even when I swear I won’t touch you again.”

Surprisingly, the look he saw in her eyes now was amusement, rather than anger. In fact she looked exactly like a woman who was willing to concede the battle because she knew she was winning the war.

“Perhaps you should try some counseling to figure out why,” she suggested.

He laughed. “I don’t need counseling for that. Any old anatomy text would have all the answers.”

“Ah, but would it tell you why you’re resisting?”

“Perhaps not, but the reasons aren’t all that important.”

“That’s where you’re all wrong, doctor. I think they are.”

“Don’t push it, Mallory,” he said, and a certain tone in his voice must have gotten
through to her, because she didn’t.

“How about getting something to drink?” she suggested instead. “I passed a stand a little way back.”

Justin hesitated, then gave in. What possible harm could there be in simply having a soda with the woman?

They found the vendor, then took their cold drinks to a sunny patch of grass. They sprawled out side by side, staring up at the sky. Puffs of clouds played tag across the vivid blue.

“Do you run often?” Justin asked at last, just to break the silence. There was something far too companionable about not speaking. It made him yearn for things that couldn’t be. It made him believe in possibilities.

“I aim for three or four times a week.”

“Have you ever done a marathon?”

“Nope. I settle for my three miles. It makes me feel quite noble without seeming like a chore. What about you?”

“I’m afraid my running schedule is pretty irregular. I never know when I’m going to be away from the hospital long enough to do it. I’d hate to be called in for surgery when I’m out here, dripping wet and out of breath.”

“You’re not on call today?”

“Nope. Actually, it’s the end of an enforced vacation. Dr. Hendricks told me to get my butt out of the hospital for four days whether I liked it or not.”

“And did you?”

“Did I what?”

“Did you like it?”

Not before now, Justin
wanted to say. Until this afternoon, he’d been going stir-crazy with too much time on his hands to think, too much empty space to crowd in on him. As much as he’d needed the sleep, as much as he knew he’d needed to relax, he had itched to get back in the operating room. Those long, stimulating hours of surgery, when every one of his senses seemed alert and responsive, were what he lived for. The time off had been an intrusion into his well-structured way of life.

“I survived it,” he said stoically. “I didn’t like it.”

“Sounds as though you need to learn how to enjoy yourself.”

“I do enjoy myself. I love my work.”

“But all work and no play…”

“Don’t finish that or I’ll take back every nice thing I’ve ever thought about you.”

Mallory propped herself on her elbow and gazed into his eyes, her expression quite serious. The look on her face teased him like a feather’s touch. “I didn’t think you ever thought nice things about me.”

“All roads lead back to Rome,” he muttered under his breath, furious with himself for giving her another opening.

Mallory just watched him and waited.

Those eyes of hers could make a saint do unpardonable things, he told himself. “Okay, I occasionally have thought nice things about you.”

“Such as?”

“Lady, didn’t anyone ever tell you it isn’t nice to beg for compliments?”

“I’m not begging. I’m asking, sort of in the interest of research. Since so many of my qualities irritate you, I thought it might be nice if I could figure out what doesn’t.”

She looked incredibly
pleased with herself for dreaming up that retort, and Justin couldn’t help laughing.

“Okay. Okay. I applaud your clever tactics. I also respect your dedication. You appear to be kind and gentle and intelligent.”

“Appear to be?”

“I don’t know you all that well. I’d hate to make any claims I couldn’t substantiate.”

“We could work on that,” she said softly, and Justin’s heart flipped over at the wistful sound he detected in her voice. He hardened himself to it.

“No. We can’t,” he said flatly. He tipped up his soft drink and drained the can. “I’ve got to get going.”

“Are you going back on duty tonight?”

“No. I have a date.”

“Oh, I see.” Averting her eyes, Mallory got to her feet. She threw her own half-filled can away, and then, with a determined lift of her head, she gave him a dazzling smile. The only thing spoiling the effect was the slight quiver of her chin. “Enjoy the rest of your weekend.”

This time it was Mallory who ran away.

As he watched her go, Justin could have thrashed himself for lying to her, for hurting her, but he told himself he’d had to do it. He had to show her once and for all that it simply wouldn’t work for them. He would never allow himself to fall in love and harm another human being the way he had been hurt. He’d thought once that perhaps it was possible to alter patterns, but then he’d learned otherwise. Things taught in childhood never left you, no matter how hard you tried to change.

“F
ool! Idiot!” Mallory repeated the
words in time with her steps as she ran back to her car. “You asked for it, you jerk. The man told you he wasn’t interested. How many ways do you want him to spell it out before you get the idea? He’s obviously involved with another woman.”

If anyone else had described the scene she’d just acted out with Justin, she’d have suggested they take the hint before they got hurt. Instead, she found herself trying to puzzle out why the man had lied to her.

He had lied. She knew it. She wasn’t wildly experienced—there had been only a few dates with other men since Alan’s death, virtually none before their marriage—but she knew kisses like those she’d shared with Justin didn’t just happen unless there was a whole spectrum of emotions behind them. Justin was absolutely determined, though, to deny it. Maybe he was just fighting it out of loyalty to the other woman. That was certainly an admirable trait. She ought to feel terrific that he was so honorable.

She felt lousy.

She didn’t buy that theory
for a minute, anyway. There had to be some other explanation, but she was darned if she could think of one.

Whatever Justin’s motivation, though, he either had to stop the denials or the kisses. She found herself praying she could get him to make the same choice she would, given the chance.

But what if she were only deluding herself, what if he were seriously involved, even engaged? She moaned as her imagination took flight again.

On the way home, she decided to make a quick detour by Rachel’s. She simply couldn’t bear the prospect of going back to her empty apartment where she’d spend the rest of the day analyzing Justin Whitmore or, worse, envisioning him in the arms of another woman. At the very least Rachel would give her a stern lecture on facing reality. Much better was the possibility that Rachel might go apartment-hunting with her.

A part of Mallory had been resisting getting a better place, knowing that it would mean a commitment to her new life. It was time, though, to either find somewhere she could really call her own or to pack it in and go back home. Suddenly she realized that Arizona was feeling less and less like home. She liked it here. She’d fallen in love with San Francisco. She liked the challenges of her work, the friends she was making, especially Rachel, who was levelheaded, funny and caring.

A new apartment would make the picture complete, a home that would be bright with sunshine and maybe even have a fireplace. As an errant image of Justin in front of that fire flitted through her mind, she decided she probably ought to look for a place that needed a lot of work. It would keep her occupied and keep such wasted thoughts at bay.

She found Rachel in her
backyard, pushing her three-year-old daughter, Deanne, on a swing, while Johnny, who was a year younger, tried to bury himself in a sandbox.

“Oh, thank God,” Rachel murmured the instant she spotted Mallory rounding the corner of the house. “Another adult. My prayers have been answered.”

“Bad day at the Jackson household?” Mallory inquired, taking over at the swing amid squeals of delight and pleas to go higher. Rachel sank down on a lawn chair and fanned herself with a paperback book she obviously hadn’t had time to open.

“That, my dear, is an understatement. The washer broke down in the middle of doing a load of sheets. The repairman promised to be here within my lifetime at a cost equal to Hal’s life insurance policy. The little one who is giggling so gleefully for you threw a temper tantrum when I refused to feed her hot dogs for breakfast. Cornflakes now cover the half of the kitchen that is not awash with overflowing soapsuds. Her father has threatened to send her to live with her grandparents until she’s ready for college. He’s hoping she’ll be civilized by then.”

Mallory couldn’t help grinning at Rachel’s recitation. “And your beachboy over there in the sandbox? What has Johnny done today to add to the chaos?”

“Other than getting up at 5:00 a.m. and shaking his crib until I came to join him, not a thing. If the kid doesn’t take a nap soon, though, I will not be responsible for my actions.”

“Where’s Hal? Did he run away from home?”

“I wouldn’t blame him if he
had, but no. He’s actually out doing the grocery shopping. He promised to take over when he got back so that I could relax, prop my feet up and try to recall what life was like before these two entered it and brought me so much joy.” There was a dry note in her voice, but her love for the children shone in her eyes. It made Mallory feel lonelier than ever.

“How would you feel about apartment-hunting with me, instead?”

Rachel’s dark eyes gleamed. “You mean walk away from all of this? Maybe even stop for an uninterrupted dinner? Intelligent conversation?”

“I can’t promise the latter, but we could give it a shot.”

Rachel was on her feet before Mallory could complete the sentence. “If you’ll watch the kids for a few minutes, I’ll go and change right now, so I’ll be ready the instant Hal walks in the door. If I’m already waiting in your car, he won’t be able to back out of his promise.”

Mallory chuckled at the edge of desperation in her friend’s enthusiasm. Even though Rachel’s life was crazy, Mallory felt a trace of envy. Rachel had all the things she’d expected to have with Alan—love, a home, children. She snapped herself back from what was destined to be a raging case of self-pity. “Go on,” she said quickly. “I’ll be fine here.”

As soon as Rachel had left, Deanne tired of swinging. “Down,” she demanded imperiously. Mallory lifted her off the seat and placed her on the ground. The youngster popped a thumb into her own mouth, and regarded Mallory with wide brown eyes, as if trying to decide how much devilment this particular grown-up would tolerate.

While Deanne was
working that out, Johnny wrapped his sandy arms around Mallory’s legs and clung to her, wailing to be picked up.

“I think I’m beginning to see Rachel’s problem,” Mallory muttered as she hoisted Johnny up and grabbed Deanne by the hand.

“Okay, kids,” she said brightly, “let’s go inside.”

Deanne planted her feet firmly where she stood and refused to budge. “Won’t go.”

“Don’t you want to play a game with us?” Mallory improvised. Deanne’s eyes brightened, then turned skeptical.

“Game?”

“Yep. Johnny and I are going to play a game. If you want to, you can play, too.”

Deanne seemed to consider the offer from every angle. “Okay,” she said at last.

Mallory took the two of them into the kitchen, which was every bit the mess Rachel had described. She put Johnny to work scooping bubbles into a pail. Thankfully, he seemed to consider it an extension of playing in the sandbox. Deanne, however, was not so easily fooled.

“I’ll bet I can get more cornflakes into a dish than you can,” Mallory taunted. Deanne eyed her warily. It was time for the big guns: outright bribery. “If you win, Mommy and I will bring you back ice cream.”

Deanne began daintily picking cornflakes off the walls. With the kids occupied for the moment, if not actually helping much, Mallory searched for a mop and began cleaning up. The physical exertion felt good. It also kept her from thinking too much. She was still at it when Hal came in, his arms filled with groceries.

“Hi, there,” he said cheerfully, brushing
a kiss across her cheek. “Are you the new maid?”

“Not me. I’m just here to borrow your wife. She’s going apartment-hunting with me.”

“You mean I’m actually going to be left alone with these two terrors of hers?” He feigned a horrified expression.

One dark brow arched quizzically. “
Hers?
They’re your children, too. Besides, I hear you promised.”

“If you hadn’t shown up, Rachel might have forgotten.”

“I doubt it. She looked pretty determined to escape. If I hadn’t stopped by, she might be heading for L.A., maybe even Hawaii. You should be grateful to me. I’ll see that she comes home again.”

Rachel appeared in the doorway just then. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Mallory. If I call home later and all of this isn’t under control, I may stay away for days.”

Hal swept his wife into his arms and kissed her soundly. “Could you stay away from that?” he teased.

“Would you consider meeting me at a motel?” she retorted.

“Not on your life. The beds are always too short. It’s here or nothing.”

Rachel’s face was a study of indecision. She hesitated so long that Hal finally poked her. “Hey, you’re making me feel insecure.”

“You’ve never felt insecure a day in your life, Hal Jackson. Maybe I should let you worry just a little. It might make you appreciate me more.”

Hal turned to Mallory and
warned, “You make sure she comes home tonight or I’ll bring the kids over and leave them with you.”

“She’ll be home,” Mallory promised so quickly that they all laughed.

“Come on,” Rachel urged. “Before he changes his mind.”

They drove to Mallory’s apartment, so she could shower and change. When she emerged from the bedroom, Rachel had printed a list of ads for condominiums from the internet. “Any preference as to which side of the Golden Gate you’re on?”

“Nope. Not as long as I can see the water.”

“Then let’s start on this side and finish in Sausalito. There’s a restaurant over there I’ve been wanting to try, but Hal and I haven’t managed a night out without the kids for weeks. I refuse to take them any place that actually has china and silverware. I can’t afford to pay for damages.”

“Then we’ll live it up tonight. I’ll even spring for a bottle of wine.”

With the prospect of a quiet, elegant dinner ahead of her, Rachel’s interest in the apartment search seemed to wane. She gave directions as they drove from building to building, but in between all she talked about was whether she’d order seafood or veal.

“Enough about food already,” Mallory finally said with a laugh. “I missed lunch. If you keep this up, we’ll be sitting down for dinner before five.”

“That’s fine with me.”

“Rachel, I am going to
find an apartment this afternoon or no dinner.”

“Then drive faster.”

An hour later Mallory found the perfect place. It had gleaming wood floors, a cheerful kitchen with cupboards galore, a fireplace, plenty of closets and, best of all, it had a huge bay window with a padded seat facing the water. It met every one of her requirements, with charm to spare. It was also more expensive than she felt she could afford.

“Mallory, you love the place. You have to buy it,” Rachel said. “Bring tuna fish sandwiches for lunch if you have to. Don’t stint when it comes to a place to live.”

“Why are you so anxious to spend my money?”

“Once you’ve actually bought a place and started to put down some roots, you won’t be so likely to leave. Good friends are hard to come by.”

The sincerity in Rachel’s words reminded Mallory of her earlier thoughts. She had found a friend and now a home. If only…She brought herself up short before the image of Justin could form clearly in her mind. She gave Rachel a hug and turned to the real estate agent. “Take my offer to the seller. If he accepts and I can get the financing, I’ll take the apartment.”

She was in high spirits when she and Rachel finally walked into the restaurant and were led to a table with a wonderful view across the Bay. When the wine had been poured, Rachel lifted her glass.

“To your new home.”

Mallory joined in the toast. “Thanks for nudging me into it. I’m already beginning to arrange furniture in my mind.”

Over dinner they talked about decorating possibilities, then wandered on to other topics. Rachel was filling her in on hospital gossip, when Mallory looked across the room and spotted Justin at the bar. Her heart seemed to stop, then pound more loudly than ever. With something that seemed suspiciously like jealousy nagging at her, she scanned the bar to look for his date.

“What on earth is the
matter?” Rachel asked. “You look as though you’ve seen a ghost.”

“Dr. Whitmore,” Mallory said in a choked voice.

Rachel twisted in her chair to locate him. “I see,” she said. Then looking at Mallory more closely, she moaned. “Oh, dear God in heaven, you didn’t listen to me, did you?”

“What do you mean?”

“You went and fell for the man, even though I warned you not to.”

There was no point in denying it. She’d always worn her heart on her sleeve for any perceptive person to read. “I didn’t do it on purpose,” Mallory grumbled.

“Well, as long as you’re planning to rush in where angels fear to tread, why don’t you go on over and say hello?”

“I can’t. He has a date.”

“There isn’t a woman at that bar,” Rachel said, then gasped. “You aren’t suggesting…” Her voice trailed off.

“No, no.”

“Then what is this nonsense about a date?”

“I ran into him earlier. He told me he had one tonight.”

“Maybe she cancelled.”

“Or maybe he never had one,” Mallory said. She set her wineglass down so hard that the Chardonnay splattered all over the tablecloth. “Damn it, I knew it. He was lying to me.”

“Why would he do that?”

“I don’t know, but I intend to find out.”

Tossing her napkin on the
table, Mallory slipped out of her chair and marched across the restaurant. Justin glanced up from his drink just in time to see her coming. She was wearing a sexy little dress that clung to her curves. Her dark hair curled softly and provocatively around her face. He studied that face and swallowed nervously. She didn’t look pleased to see him. In fact, she looked very much like a lady intent on mayhem. He was torn between trying to make peace and going on the defensive.

“So,” she said amiably enough, sliding onto the bar stool beside him. He suspected the friendliness was deceptive, and he prepared to dodge the first blow. At least it was verbal.

“Where’s your date?”

Guilt and well-deserved embarrassment rushed through Justin. “She couldn’t make it,” he muttered tightly, clenching his glass until his knuckles turned white.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” she said. There was not one whit of sincerity in her voice.

He gazed directly into her eyes. She didn’t bat an eyelash. “Are you really?” he said. “You don’t sound like it.”