Rescue Me (a quirky romance novel about secrets, forgiveness and falling in love) (20 page)

"You did this because of me?"

"No. I did it for Heidi. I want to have a wig made for her."

He smiled and nodded.

"But there's more. You've done something to me, too. I was content before. I liked my life. What happened?"

"Maybe you weren't really content." He let his hand fall away, and she yearned for him to touch her again, as bad as it was.

She looked at the pictures again. "Maybe I was fooling myself, but I honestly don't think so. I wanted the marine rescue so bad, I thought I'd die if I didn't get it, but now..."

"You don't care anymore?"

She shrugged. "I don't know. It's not that I don't care. There's Pete--he's my partner, and Andrew, and the animals." She ran her hand over her head, feeling the strange, velvety softness of the short hair.

"What do you want?"

"I don't know what I want anymore."

"I remember what you said before--about doing what others want and then getting mad and hurting them. Is that what's happening here?"

"Before all this I knew what I wanted. I knew getting it was going to be hard. But everything is different now. The fight has gone out of me. What was important isn't anymore. I keep thinking if I don't want to fight for my dream, then I don't want it bad enough."

"I swear I didn't do anything intentionally."

"I guess you didn't have to." Their gazes met, and pulses of need and fear traveled between them at lightening speed. Hailey dropped her gaze when she felt her face heat. "What am I going to do?"

"You're going to return home and work through the business deal with your partner. What happened? You said something about it being difficult."

"I lost our largest contributor--thanks to delinquent taxes, and our land deal fell through when a relative contested a will."

"I'm sorry. If I could help, I would."

She saw the gears turning in his head as she lifted her eyes. It was that look--that one she'd seen several times. "Oh, no you don't!"

"Don't what?"

"I've seen you in action. You're not helping me."

He smiled. "That bad?"

"I won't go there. Besides, like I said, I'm not sure what I want anymore. I've never been the kind to waffle. This is ridiculous!"

He closed his hand over hers. "I think I can help."

"No."

"You haven't given me a compelling reason not to, and you know me--"

"I don't want your help. Please. Don't." She swallowed hard as she silently finished her plea. Because then I'd owe you. Because then I'd be tied to you. Because then I couldn't go back home and forget all about you--something I need to do so desperately. "Heidi hates me. She's here and she's sick and she needs me. If I go back to California and fight the battle to get the marine rescue started, I'll never have the opportunity to come back here to live if I want. I'll be..."

"Trapped?"

She nodded. That was it. She felt trapped. When had her dreams become a prison? When had her friends become her jailers? "What am I going to do? So many people are counting on me, and all I want is to simplify things. My life isn't my own."

"I can't tell you what to do, but being honest with Pete and Andrew might help."

She smiled. "Sounds so simple, doesn't it?"

"Simple doesn't mean easy."

She sighed. He understood her, like no one else. More importantly, he didn't condemn her. She studied his hand as it rested on hers. "You did this to me, you know that?"

"You said that already, but I swear I didn't do anything."

"You did, and for the life of me, I can't figure out how. I hate meddlers, but you wiggled your way into my heart and changed me."

He looked away, reaching for a book and flipping through the pages. "Tomorrow's a big day. Maybe you should let things rest until afterward. Then you can think things through with a clear head."

"Maybe." She looked at him, frustrated she couldn't climb into his arms, frustrated she couldn't snap her fingers and have all the answers lain out before her. And frustrated he was withdrawing with his pat answer. She intentionally changed directions, hoping that might ease the annoyance building within, and equally hopeful it would bridge the distance he'd wedged between them. "Who's the woman in the photographs?"

"She was a friend. A close friend."

He wasn't warming up, but she didn't want to back off. She stood and walked to the collection of pictures and picked up the one she'd held earlier. "You look closer than friends."

"We were close, but only friends."

"You keep speaking in past tense. Where is she now?"

"She's dead."

"Oh." Hailey turned to look at him. "What happened?"

"Suicide."

"I'm sorry. It must have been hard for you."

He nodded, but didn't speak.

She had to know more. "Why do you think she did it?"

"I know why she did it. She killed herself because of me."

Because of him? She set the picture back in place. "I'm sorry."

"You already said that. Besides, an apology isn't necessary. Her picture's all over the room. Of course you're going to ask."

"Why do you keep the pictures out? It's obvious they're painful for you to look at."

"For the same reason you keep that picture of you and Heidi in your wallet."

"You saw that?" She realized he'd seen it when he'd slipped the money into her purse last time she'd stayed with him.

"I keep them as reminders."

"Reminders of what?" she gently prodded.

"What not to do. I took our friendship at face value. I didn't realize she was in love with me, didn't want to believe it. I hurt her. One night, I went to her place after she'd left a strange message on my answering machine. I found her in the bathtub, and a note..." He blinked. "I won't do that again...well, didn't want to do that again."

"Heidi," she said, with understanding. The guilt she'd sensed wasn't because of a mystery girlfriend. He didn't want another death on his head.

"Heidi," he said with a nod.

"She's strong."

"She's sick."

"She won't kill herself."

"She doesn't have to," he said, his eyes downcast. "All she has to do is give up."

Hailey studied his profile, not knowing what to say. She could blame him for her sister's misunderstanding. He acted like a man in love--doing all he had for Heidi. If she were Heidi, she'd probably fall in love with him too. But blaming him wouldn't do anything, or would it? Maybe he needed to learn something from this experience. He hadn't hesitated dishing her more than one bitter pill.

But was she the right person to make that judgment? "I'm not trying to be mean, but maybe you encourage misunderstanding." She waited for a reaction.

Rainer met her gaze, stunned by her suggestion, and bewildered by it. He helped his friends. He was a nice guy--the kind of guy anyone would be lucky to call a friend. How could his actions be misunderstood? "What are you talking about?"

"Well," she said, looking away. "You're so intense."

"Intense? So what? Intense is better than shallow." What was she trying to do?

"Sure. I suppose you're right, but women..." She looked at him. "God, this is hard! Would you quit looking at me like that?"

"Like what? I'm just looking at you."

"No, you're looking like I've stolen your favorite toy."

"Oh, for crying out loud! Just say what you have to say and get it over with!" Not only was she dealing stingers--illogical stingers--but she was making him feel guilty for feeling pain as they struck.

"Women think a man who spends a lot of time with her--who insists on helping her--loves her."

"No they don't. Men solve problems, women vent. It's that Mars, Venus thing. I'm just playing my role."

"Too well."

"Look," he said with a sigh. "Heidi and I have been friends for years. We've always been honest with each other. We've helped each other with relationships--with the opposite sex. I've even set her up on a couple of blind dates."

"Has she done the same for you?"

He thought about it. Had she? "No."

"See?"

"That doesn't mean anything--other than she doesn't have a friend she deems worthy of me."

"Oh, aren't we modest?" Hailey rolled her eyes, those sparkling emerald eyes he yearned to lose himself within. He laughed. Even when she was saying things he didn't like, she was charming. If only...

"I appreciate what you're trying to do..." he started and then trailed off. He had no clue what she was trying to do. "I'll think about what you said."

"Sure you will. And I'll become a nun."

"I can imagine the hell you'd cause if you did that," he said, laughing. "No pun intended."

"Well, aren't we a sight. I can't make up my mind what I want in life--too afraid to think for myself--and you don't realize your insistent meddling is enough to send a woman out of her mind in love with you."

"If that were the case, every woman I've befriended would be in love with me, and I know for a fact that isn't true. For one, you're not."

"Are we friends?" she asked, looking flustered. She ran her hand over her military-short haircut.

It was sexy. He couldn't believe it, since he normally liked long hair. For some reason, the short hair suited her.

"I'd say we're friends," he said. "And you're clearly not in love with me. So your theory is all wet."

"Yeah." She looked like she was trying to swallow a boulder.

"What is it?"

"Nothing." She stood. "It's getting late, and I need to get some rest. Tomorrow's gonna be a busy--"

He reached out and caught her arm. "You're not running out of here. Face up to it--whatever it is. If you run, you'll only make things worse."

"Believe me. Staying here, in this room, is going to make things much worse."

"Why? What are you afraid of?" He caught her other shoulder and held her fast. "What are you running from?"

"Isn't it obvious?"

He searched her eyes and saw pain and more. He couldn't identify all the emotions he saw, but he did sense one thing that surprised him--desire. Knowing he should let her go, now, but unable to do so, he lowered his head. Just a small touch. His mouth to hers. He only needed that much. Then he could let her go.

His mind went completely blank as their mouths met. All that mattered was they way her mouth fit with his. Her lips were smooth and soft, tasting, taunting him. Her tongue teased his as he opened to her, and a groan rose up his throat. His pants tightened over his arousal.

What she did to him! He loved the feel of her body pressing closer, her curves against his angles, setting his blood afire. His head swam. His senses shut down, his vision the first to go as an explosion of needs overtook him. By God, he couldn't stop--wouldn't stop.

He swept her into his arms and, their mouths still tasting and exploring, he carried her to the bed and gently laid her down. Under heavy eyelids he gazed down as she lay below him. The sight of her, flushed, her mouth slightly swollen from their kiss, sent wave after wave of need to his center. His desire grew more demanding as he leaned closer and trailed kisses and licks down her neck.

She ground herself into his leg, which had slipped between hers, and he thought he would explode.

"Make love to me," she whispered.

He wanted to. He needed to find the woman under it all--beneath the sarcasm and I'm-okay act. The real Hailey Jensen.

He reached to her shirt and slipped it up to expose a flat stomach. She sat up, yanking her top over her head. He drunk in the sight of her breasts, firm and high, neither too large nor too small, and centered with luscious pink peaks. His mouth watered, his body ached for her.

He tasted the carnation pink flesh, his tongue teasing each one until they grew taut in his mouth. "You taste so sweet. Like the finest wine."

"I just want to feel, to be alive. Make love to me," she pleaded, the urgency in her voice clear, even in his hazy state. When she pushed him aside and deftly removed the rest of her clothes, he could scarcely wait to bury himself within her. He tried to ease her to her back, but she shook her head, and instead pushed him down.

His eyelids fell heavily, snuffing out the world, as kisses ran down his abdomen. Her hands slipped into the waistband of his pants. Zip. Snap. Swoosh. They were gone. A moment later, so were his boxers. He lay exposed to her, ready, waiting, relishing the way she'd taken control of his body. He'd never had a lover do that.

When the warmth of her mouth closed over him, it took every ounce of his strength to fight the urge to explode.

He sat up and gently pushed her back. "No you don't. I'm taking my time. You keep doing that, and I won't be able to."

She looked pleased as she let him push her down upon the bed and coax her legs apart. The smell of her, the taste of her. It was almost more than he could take. He wondered if he would ever get enough. He teased, lapped and savored every inch of her body with tongue and teeth, until her leg muscles grew rigid under his hands and her breath came in quick pants.