Animal Instincts [The Andersons 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (11 page)

“Right. Plans of our house with what looks like an annex built at the rear? An annex which includes a further six bedrooms and five bathrooms. Well, I’m waiting,” he said when Ramona remained silent.

“It’s really none of your business.”

“I live here, Ramona. It is my business.”

She sighed and relented. “Sammy had the idea to turn the house into a type of summer camp for disadvantaged kids. You know, a place where they can have fun, make new friends, forget about whatever crap is happening back home. They could help look after the animals. Maybe if they were interested in becoming a vet, I could set up a scholarship fund or something.”

Rex laid the plans back on the bed, his brows drawing together thoughtfully. He was silent for a few moments as he digested her words. The idea tugged at the once-abused boy within him. “Is this why you wanted me to sell my half of the house to you?” He sighed when she nodded. “Why didn’t you tell me, Ramona? It’s a brilliant idea. But I think you and Samantha could go one better. You’ve got the land here. Build another house, a separate house. Maybe even adapt it for disabled children, as well.”

“Why didn’t we think of that?”

He shrugged. “Sometimes all it takes is the input from an interested third party. I’ll be happy to contribute in any way I can.”

She smiled then. “Thanks, Rex, but… Well, I hope you don’t mind, but this is our idea, mine and Sammy’s. We don’t want anybody else to get involved. I only pulled the plans out again ’cause I thought it would take Sammy’s mind off remembering Mark’s hands around her throat…”

Her voice cracked and a tear escaped. She quickly dashed it away. “I’m usually stronger than this. But we’re so close, I can feel everything. I knew last night something terrible had happened. She was terrified, and I felt it…”

“Ramona,” Rex murmured when another tear fell, “come here.” Holding his arms out, she came willingly and he settled her onto his lap, guiding her head to his shoulder. “It’s okay. Let it out. Let it all out.”

The dam of tears broke. For a long time, Rex held Ramona as she cried, and he blanked his mind to how snugly she fitted into the cradle of his thighs. She needed comfort, not a come-on. When she finally lifted her head, the front of his shirt was soaked.

Ramona sniffed and accepted the handkerchief he’d fished out of his pocket. “Sorry about the shirt,” she said, wiping her face dry and blowing her nose.

“Ah, don’t worry about it. It needed laundering anyway.” Their eyes met and locked. Two things happened. One, he began to drown. Two, his once blank mind registered her well-rounded ass in his lap.

It was time for some light relief, for both of them.

He said the first thing that entered his head. “What’s your favorite movie? Mine’s
King Kong
.” Those striking green eyes of hers widened with surprise, whether through his topic of conversation or his choice of movie, Rex couldn’t tell. “The original 1933 version, that is.”

Much to his relief, Ramona shifted off his lap and sat cross-legged further up the bed, her attention fixed on the bedspread as her fingers doodled around the flowery patterns. She then looked up. “1933? That must be black and white.”

“It is. All the best movies are in black and white.
The Day The Earth Stood Still. Invasion of the Body Snatchers. A Night to Remember
. It’s based on Walter Lord’s book about the sinking of the Titanic,” he explained at her puzzled expression. “Which I know is about as far away from science fiction as you can get, but another brilliant black and white movie all the same.” His mouth hitched at her “you’re-yanking-my-chain” look. “What can I say? My former college roommate was a Titanic buff. I took notice.”

“Even so, Rex, you’ve gotta admit color and special effects—CGIs—have a place in making brilliant movies, too. James Cameron’s
Titanic
. Or what about the Peter Jackson remake of
King Kong
?”

“Ah. I’m afraid remakes don’t do it for me. Particularly that one.”

“Why not?”

“Well,” he explained, injecting a seriousness to his tone, “the story builds on that the girl realizes the ape saves her life, and her gratitude reflects in her feeling less frightened of him. Which is wrong. She should fear him. I mean, he’s a fifty-foot ape.” His lips twitched and his poker face slipped. “Can you imagine how big his bananas are?”

Ramona giggled. Rex stiffened. Then she leaned closer, her breath on his face warm and distracting. He cleared his throat and moved from the bed before the urge to lay her back against the pillows and finish what they’d started earlier that morning became too strong to control.

“Er, it’s getting late.” He paused in the doorway when a thought occurred to him. “Would you like me to give you a lift to your parents’?”

“No, it’s okay. I’ll take my truck. But thanks for offering.”

“Anytime. I’ll see you sometime tomorrow. And, Ramona, I meant what I said before. If I can help with Samantha—anything at all—then just ask and I’ll do it.”

“Rex?”

He turned back around. She held his snotty handkerchief out to him. He pulled a face. “Keep it. I’ve got plenty.”

“Rex, is that offer of help you made last night still standing?”

Rex folded the corner of the page to mark his place, placed the book down, and stared at Ramona as she plopped into the chair across the kitchen table from him. He took in the under eye shadows and the pinched mouth. He didn’t need to ask to know that her night had been hell.

Something in his heart thawed, the part which he’d thought would remain forever frozen. She was hurting, and he wanted to be the man to make this woman happy. “Of course. What do you want me to do? Hang Raven by his balls from the nearest tree? Oh, I forgot, he hasn’t got any balls.”

It was faint, but it was there, and it was a smile. “Can you help Ross with moving Sammy’s things back home? Sammy has an appointment at the Medical Center, you know, just on the corner as you turn into Beaverhead Street? I’d like to go with her. Mom and Dad have gone to Butte, I think to the police station. And Matt’s on duty.”

“Sure.” He drank the remainder of his coffee and pushed to his feet. “I’ll go now.”

“Oh, there’s no hurry. Ross is still in bed.” She yawned loudly. “Wish I was. Didn’t get too much sleep. Sammy kept having nightmares about that bastard.”

Rex hunched down beside Ramona and gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. “I don’t know what to say to make it better. Really I don’t. So I’m going to say nothing. Well, apart from would you like a coffee and some breakfast? I think I’ve enough culinary skills to rustle up scrambled eggs on toast.” This time, the smile was broader and there was a spark of life in those striking green eyes of hers.

“That would be nice. I’ll just go grab a shower.”

While the water in the kettle boiled and the bread in the toaster toasted, Rex scrambled eggs and listened to the running water above his head. He soon tuned out. The graphic images he conjured up were a culinary disaster in the making. And being a vegetarian, Ramona would not want burnt sausage to go with her equally burnt eggs. Come to think of it, neither would he. He was rather attached to his “sausage,” thanks very much.

He turned when he heard soft footsteps behind him. She had swapped her velour jog suit for a pair of denim shorts and a white T-shirt with “I
♥
NY” printed down the middle. He handed her the plate and tried not to stare at the way her breasts jiggled as she plopped down at the table to eat. Was she wearing a bra? No, he couldn’t—wouldn’t—think about that.

She wolfed down a few bites then said, “Hopefully, what with it being Saturday, we won’t get too many emergency calls, but what—”

“Don’t you worry about that,” he interrupted, taking a real interest in her Nikes as he placed a mug of coffee in front of her. It was safer than looking at her breasts. “I’ll deal with any we get. You just look after Samantha.”

“Rex?” She placed the knife and fork down and tugged on his shirt sleeve. “Talk to me.”

“About what?”

“Anything. If only for a few minutes, I just wanna feel normal again.”

Rex snagged the nearest chair and pulled it around to sit beside her. He ignored the rush of heat that ripped through him as he inhaled her freshly showered scented skin. It was some kind of fruit, but he couldn’t discern what. Unless, of course, he took his time sniffing every naked inch of her, every curve, every dip, every recess, which, under the circumstances, was highly inappropriate. Of course, he could ask what shower gel she’d used, but even that didn’t seem right. “Hmm, let’s see. Oh, Watson is going to call his new foal ‘Sundance.’ No, forget I said that.” His short laugh was humorless. “You want me to talk about something that’ll help you forget, not remember.”

Ramona gave a thin smile. “No, it’s okay.” She picked up her knife and fork again and took another mouthful of toast and egg, chewing slowly and thoughtfully. “‘Sundance’? I like it.”

“Yeah, I think it’s fitting, what with its sandy-colored coat. When Watson first asked me at the party whether I wanted to buy him, I said no. But now I must admit I’m tempted. He’s a handsome-looking foal.”

“Yeah, Watson maybe a pain in the ass, but he sure knows how to breed.”

Rex felt certain the remark wasn’t said as a joke, but he laughed all the same, which, in turn, made Ramona giggle. And for the first time that morning, his suspicion that she was braless was the last thing on his mind.

* * * *

An hour later, Rex parked his brand-new SUV behind another outside an address on Second Street where Ramona once resided with Samantha and Matt. He had wanted a Mustang, preferably identical to the one he’d crashed, but a couple of noteworthy factors had made him change his mind.

One. They were not entirely appropriate for the terrain as some clients had mere dirt tracks leading to their properties, and repairing a busted fuel or brake line, or anything else for that matter, wasn’t exactly how he’d envisaged spending his free time.

Two. He’d heard the area was prone to harsh winters with months of heavy snowfall, blizzards, and biting winds. So getting stuck in a snowdrift, freezing his ass off, didn’t exactly fill him with joy, either.

The red-bricked house itself was much the same as every other house in the street. But it was the garden that stood out. The small, circular, lush, green lawn was perfectly clipped, as were the two conical-shaped box trees on either side of the front door. In every color imaginable, the explosion of bedded and potted petunias, pansies, marigolds, and other summer flowering annuals, and without a weed in sight, signaled somebody in the household was an expert gardener.

Somehow Rex didn’t think it was Matt. He wielded a badge and a gun, not a packet of seeds and a trowel. Nor did he think it was Ramona. He’d never once seen her watering the plants at the practice, let alone in the garden. That left shy, kind-hearted Samantha, who preferred old-fashioned romance to science fiction and vampires.

Rex cursed that Raven had no balls and slid the key that Ramona had given him into the lock, but the door swung open and he found himself almost toe-to-toe with a much younger version of Ross Anderson Senior, but with a full head of blue-black hair, and almost a carbon copy of Matt Anderson.

He introduced himself. “Rex Latimer. I’m Ramona’s partner. Business partner,” he clarified, though he didn’t know why he needed to point that out. It wasn’t as if he was going to say, “Oh, she also stirs my cock, so I wouldn’t mind being her partner in the bedroom, as well.”

“Ross.” He rocked back on his heels and grinned as he appraised Rex. “So you’re the smug SOB.”

“Excuse me?”

“Smug SOB. That’s what Mona called you. But don’t get pissed. I think it’s meant as a compliment.”

“Some compliment,” Rex grumbled, following Ross into the house. On the floor in the living room were a variety of cardboard boxes, some empty, others half-filled with books. He picked up the nearest one—a book on pruning.

“Sammy’s the green-fingered member of the family,” Ross explained. “I had no idea she had this many books, though. I haven’t even made a dent.”

Rex followed the thumb, which Ross jerked toward the alcoves either side of the stone fireplace. Both were crammed full of gardening books, punctuated with romance novels. He gave a low whistle. “Surely she doesn’t need all of them. I mean, is the move back to your parents’ temporary or permanent?”

“I’ve no idea. Did Mona tell you what happened?”

“Not much. Just that Samantha was raped. I didn’t press for details.”

“Actually, Matt and I got to Raven before he got that far.”

Rex flicked his eyes over Ross, noticing the slight bruising to the knuckles of his right hand. Interesting. He remembered both of Ramona’s brothers were police officers, and for some reason, Ross struck him as upstanding, even more so than Matt. Though dedicated, he felt Matt was a bit of a hothead. Still, he wasn’t exactly in the right position to pass judgment. After all, they were talking about Raven here. “Like your brother, Matt, are you also a police officer?”

Ross nodded. “Detective. NYPD. 19
^th
Precinct. Why?”

“Just curious.” Rex went to the left hand alcove and began perusing the book titles. “I’m going to make an executive decision and say that Samantha’s move is temporary. I’ll just choose a couple more books.”