Animal Instincts [The Andersons 2] (Siren Publishing Classic) (12 page)

“You hurt Mona, and Matt and I will feed you your balls.”

The hardback romance novel he’d just selected from the shelf thumped to the floor. “Excuse me?” Rex asked, startled by the comment.

“You heard. Whatever Sammy experiences, Mona does, too. She’s hurting like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Don’t you think I don’t know that? If I wasn’t so damned sure you’d arrest me, I’d kick Raven’s ass well into the next century. And since I’m opposed to violence, that’s really saying something.” He planted both hands on his hips, his expression grim as he traded defiant scowls with Ross. “I like Ramona, and I would never hurt her.”

Actually “like” was too tame a word. With a growing certainty, Rex realized his feelings for Ramona ran deeper than that, and had done for a while. The moment he’d tripped and fallen into her striking green eyes a month ago to be exact.

Furthermore, the day before, in the treatment room, on the table, the out-of-control sex, even if it did last all of five seconds, told him she’d wanted him as much as he’d wanted her. Of course, sleeping with Ramona didn’t mean marriage, but with the way his heart had thawed that morning, the image of a wife no longer put the fear of God into him. Pause for thought, maybe.

“Yes, I would arrest you, but then I’d let you off with a warning. You live with Mona. That’s punishment enough.”

Rex returned Ross’s grin, and the tension disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. “It’s not all that bad. Well, apart from the state she leaves the bathroom in. Honestly, the first time, I thought a bomb had been dropped.” His cell phone vibrated in his jeans pocket. He didn’t recognize the number calling when he flipped it open. “Hello?”

“Latimer, Watson here. I’ve got a problem with Storm, one of my mares. I was going to call Ramona, but—”

“You what?” Rex swallowed the curse. “Mr. Watson, I don’t know whether you know or not, but at this moment in time Ramona has more pressing matters to attend to.”

“Yes, I know. That’s why I didn’t call her. But you’ll come out and see to Storm, yes?”

Rex passed his free hand over his face. “Yes. I’ll be with you in five minutes.”

“Bud ‘Pain in the ass’ Watson, right?” Ross asked as Rex flipped his cell shut and pocketed it.

“In one. Look, I’m sorry, but I’ll have to go. Mr. Watson may be a pain in the ass, but he’s also a client.”

“You bring a medical bag or whatever you use with you?”

“Yes. I always carry it. Why?”

“You like fresh air? Walking?”

“Why?”

Again, Ross answered a question with a question. “Interested in taking a shortcut?”

Catching the sly glint, Rex had no doubt that Ross’s shortcut was going to be anything but short. He didn’t mind in the least.

* * * *

Seated in the Medical Center’s small waiting area, Samantha’s hand in hers, Ramona stared at the haphazard pile of magazines on the low table and wondered, not for the first time since their arrival, if anybody had noticed they were ten years old, then wondered why she was bothered. It wasn’t as if she was planning on reading any of them.

She switched her attention to Samantha. Despite the heat, she wore a thick turtleneck sweater and jeans that were tucked into calf-length boots. Totally covered. Totally inaccessible. Her face bore a blend of strain and serenity. She squeezed her hand. “What’re you thinking about?” she asked when Samantha’s mouth curled softly at the corners.

“I’m remembering how I felt last night before you came home.”

Ramona’s brows knitted into a frown. “How you felt?”

“Yeah. For twenty minutes or so, I felt safe. As if somebody had put their arms around me and told me everything was going to be all right.”

Before Ramona could question Samantha further, Dr. Susan Parks poked her head around the door of her office.

“Samantha Anderson? Sorry to keep you. If you’d like to come in.”

“Do you want me to come in with you?” Ramona asked Samantha.

“No. I’ll be all right.”

Ramona nodded and settled back in the seat. While waiting, she deliberately made a point of not picking up one of the ten-year-old magazines. Instead, her thoughts went to Rex, and in particular how he had held her the night before. It had been slushy and tender, but for a long, long moment, she had liked it. It had made her feel safe…

Safe? She was instantly reminded of Samantha’s comment. Rex had held her while she cried for approximately twenty minutes. Just like Ramona could feel Samantha’s feelings, Samantha could feel hers, too. In some telepathic way, she had transported the comfort which Rex had given her onto her sister.

She then grimaced. She was going to have to ask what happened next because at twenty-one minutes, she’d become aware of Rex’s hard-on and her thoughts had been far from comforting.

In fact, for the past month, she’d thought about nothing other than indulging in kinky sex with Rex. He may have blown her out at the party and she may have obtained a degree of payback by leaving Bud Watson to him, but the man, still a smug SOB, mind you, was quintessentially sex-on-legs. The number of times she’d imagined kissing that smug smile from his rugged and, which she’d noticed only occurred at weekends, unshaven face, almost equaled that of asking him to sell his share of the house to her.

If only Rex knew how secretly pleased she’d been when he’d refused to move out. She enjoyed living with him. The highlight of her day would be evening time after Samantha had gone home. She’d watch him while he relaxed in the armchair, his long legs stretched out, a science fiction novel in one hand and one of Mimi’s peanut butter cookies in the other. Sometimes he would catch her watching him, the look which passed between them before she quickly glanced away capable of singeing the pages.

Ramona then drew in a long breath as she remembered what happened the morning before. The looks between them might singe pages, but the book had well and truly erupted into a ball of flames when he’d kissed her. If he hadn’t made such a big deal about her being on the pill during the five-second sex on the treatment table, her whole body would have burst into flames, too.

She definitely wanted to jump Rex’s bones. Over and over and over again. The sooner, the better. And if she wasn’t mistaken, he wanted the same. They had to be discreet, though. She didn’t think it fair on her sister’s feelings, especially after what happened, for Samantha to know about the numerous sizzling sex-a-thons she had in mind. She would, however, tell Samantha about Rex’s comforting hug. After all, it had made them both feel better.

When Samantha emerged some thirty minutes later, Ramona detected an irritability to her sister. “What’s the matter?”

“I have two prescriptions. One for sleeping pills. The other for the morning after pill.”

Ramona quirked an eyebrow. The sleeping pills she could understand, but emergency contraceptive? Unlike her, she knew her sister wasn’t on the pill, but from what she’d been told, Ross and Matt had interrupted Raven before he even got close to the region that would warrant guarding against pregnancy. In actual fact, no man had. Unless, Dr. Parks thought some sort of divine intervention was at work. Her cheeks tinged pink. It was definitely not the time to remember the five-second sex the morning before.

“I don’t know how many times I told Dr. Parks I didn’t need it, but she wouldn’t listen.”

“You don’t have to take it.” Ramona linked her arm through Samantha’s and led her to her truck. Once behind the wheel, she said, “Um, Sammy, I’ve got to tell you something. Last night, I broke down in front of Rex. Totally covered his shirt in snot when he held me. I was in his arms for twenty minutes, Sammy, the same amount of time you felt safe.”

“Tell him, thank you.” Samantha’s mouth curved softly. “You want to keep hold of him, Mona. He’s nice. Kind. And he’ll never lie or cheat on you.”

“Whoa, hold on there. He only held me, Sammy. It’s not like we’ve kissed or anything.”
Liar, liar, pants on fire.

“No?”

Ramona ignored her sister’s knowing look. As she drove the short distance from the Medical Center to Second Street, she nonchalantly asked, “What happened at twenty-one minutes?”

“I don’t know. I felt so warm and safe, I fell asleep. Why?”

Ramona shrugged, keeping it light. “Rex told me his favorite movie is the black and white 1933 version of
King Kong
. Thought you’d be laughing over his crack about how big an ape’s bananas are.”

A peal of giggles escaped from Samantha. “Again, tell Rex, thank you.”

“Tell him yourself,” Ramona replied, pulling up behind Rex’s SUV. “I asked him to help Ross with moving your things.”

Just then, Ross came out of the house and loaded a box into the back of Samantha’s SUV that he’d borrowed. “Hi, you two. How’d you get on?” he asked Samantha, giving her a hug when she went to him.

“I’ve got some sleeping pills.”

“Is Rex inside?” Ramona asked, tamping down a sudden urge to jump Rex’s bones there and then.

“Nope. Watson called. Problem with one of his horses. I showed Rex the shortcut, or should I say long cut. If you run, you’ll catch him.”

Ramona stared at Ross and then Samantha. Both shared the same knowing smile. Her face began to flame even as she said, “I will never run after any man. And certainly not that smug SOB.”

She set a slow jogging pace instead.

* * * *

His right hand firmly entrenched up Storm’s nether regions, Rex watched the small figure jogging across the prairie then vaulting over the fence into the paddock. He sure was pleased to see Ramona because Watson, who stood holding the bridle and stroking Storm’s mane, had been driving him to distraction with his constant bellyaching over the length of time he had taken in arriving. So what if his five minutes had stretched into forty? So what if his mode of transport had consisted of two legs, not four wheels?

As Ramona approached, his heart squeezed at the sight of her sparkling green eyes and carefree expression. He withdrew his hand, removed the long rubber gloves with an audible “swack,” and then rubbed his hands with the antibacterial gel he took from the medical bag. “Mr. Watson, there is nothing wrong with Thunder.”

“Storm,” Ramona corrected Rex and smiled at Watson.

“Ramona, I didn’t expect to see you. I heard about what happened. If there’s anything I can do, then just ask. I’m only a phone call away.”

Rex brushed aside the absurd notion that Watson was hitting on Ramona. “There is nothing wrong with Thunder,” he again said.

“Storm,” Ramona reminded him.

“Are you sure?” Watson asked him.

Rex bristled at Watson’s condescending tone and attitude. “Mr. Watson, are you questioning my abilities as a vet?”

“No, no, no. Of course not.”

“Good. Like I said, there is nothing wrong with the mare. Unless you count the fact that she’s pregnant.”

Watson looked astonished. “What? How can that be?”

“Well,” he drawled, “I’m sure as a breeder, Mr. Watson, you’ll be aware of what tends to happen when a mare meets a stud.”

“Very funny, Mr. Latimer.” Watson strode in the direction of his ranch house, calling over his shoulder, “Send me the invoice.”

“It’s
Doctor
Latimer. And don’t worry, we will.” Rex winked at Ramona and patted Storm on her flank. “Thunder, you’re in serious trouble. I told you not to chase the boys.”

“It’s Storm,” Ramona again reminded him. “Look at her coat. It’s dark gray, like the color of storm clouds.”

“Personally, Ramona, I don’t care if her name’s Partly Cloudy With The Chance Of Showers.” That earned him a fit of giggles. “It’s good to hear you laugh.”

Her eyes narrowed. “You know her name’s Storm, don’t you?”

“Of course.”

His grin was smug. Ramona picked up the medical bag and whacked Rex with it. “C’mon, race you to the fence.” The rapidly diminishing light then made her look upward. Dark and foreboding clouds had bubbled up and were rapidly rolling over the azure sky.
“Uh-oh. Speaking of storms…”

The words had hardly left her mouth when a fat raindrop splashed on her nose. There was another splash then another, and then the heavens literally opened. With a squeal, and with Rex close behind her, Ramona dashed toward some nearby trees. Okay, not exactly a smart place to take shelter. However, it was either that or swap pleasantries with “Pain in the ass” Watson at his house, something that neither of them found appealing.

By the time they got to the trees, they were both drenched.
“Why couldn’t you have
driven here?
”
Ramona grumbled as she placed the medical bag down.

“
Ah, quit complain
’
,
”
he said, wringing the rain from his shirt.
“
You ought to go storm chasing. Then you
’
ll know what real rain is…
”
The words died in his throat when he turned to face her.

“
Storm chasing? Don
’
t tell me you
’
re one of these morons who gets a boner chasing tornados.
”