Midnight Heat (Black Phoenix Book 2) (4 page)

“If you’re sensitive to noise or light, have symptoms such as headaches, nausea, or dizziness, you shouldn’t be driving.”

He didn’t comment, just stood there, eyes hidden behind the dark lenses.

“I can’t believe Isabeau let you drive her rental. Brave woman,” she stated, then leaned to the right to look past him. As she spotted the vehicle parked in her driveway, she couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter.

“You did not just snort at me.”

“It’s a minivan.”

“Believe me, I noticed.”

Not just a minivan, a baby blue minivan. Another unladylike snort escaped.

“Isabeau claims it was all they had.”

“I’ll bet it just kills you to drive that,” she managed as uncontrollable laughter began to bubble up and out of her.

“I think she did it on purpose to get back at me for totaling her car and scaring her.”

“From stud to soccer mom in zero-point-four.” Damn, she liked Isabeau already. “Can you feel the testosterone leaching out of your body with every mile?”

Judging by the tight set of his jaw, he didn’t find it nearly as funny as she did. Rebecca lost the battle. She doubled over with laughter, straightening just in time to see a dark frown crease his forehead as he folded his arms over his chest.

“Are you done yet?”

“I’m sorry,” she said, trying to go serious and not quite making it.

“Are you?”

She managed to stop laughing but couldn’t wipe the smile off her face. “Not so much, no.” Although she hadn’t thought it possible, his scowl deepened. “What’s the matter, crabby today?”

He let out a low, deep breath. “Apparently,” he admitted, surprising her with his honesty.

Rebecca sobered. Tension radiated off him, pulling every part of his body tight. “How are you feeling?”

He fell silent and lifted a hand as if he meant to reach out and touch something—her perhaps.

She held her breath.

His hand fell to his side.

She sighed. “Well?”

“Well what?”

“How do you feel?”

“I feel great.”

“The truth, Dominic, give me the courtesy of it, will you?”

“I feel like shit. Your laughing at me doesn’t help.”

His level of pain could be gauged by the way he held himself, and his careful indrawn breaths. The doctor in her wanted to reach out and comfort. The woman in her wanted to reach out for a completely different reason. She’d never had such an irresistible urge to touch anyone the way she wanted to touch him. It had been there right from the beginning, their first meeting, and was still just as strong now.

She fisted her hands to keep from acting on the impulse.

“Can I come in?”

Definitely not. Even injured and surly, he still emanated so damn much testosterone he made her teeth sweat. Her heart did a little flutter whether she wanted it to or not. “That’s not a good idea.”

“Have dinner with me.” There was the arrogance that had been missing a few moments before. His tone wasn’t commanding, but left no doubt in her mind that for him there was only one answer.

Too bad she couldn’t give it. “I already ate.”

“Tomorrow?”

“No.”

His brow furrowed. “Why the bleedin’ hell not? Are you involved with someone?”

“I’m not seeing anyone, no.”

At her admission, he stepped closer, invading her space. Heat emanated off him, and although he did not touch her, she felt surrounded by him. “Take a drive with me?”

The low, soft timbre of his voice thrilled her, washed over her skin like a caress, and she fought a tremor. The heat of his body warmed her through her clothes. Wanting to step closer, to press against him and inhale his all too familiar scent, Rebecca stepped away. Physically distancing herself from him. She only wished emotional distance was as easily achieved. “Drive where?”

“Does it matter?”

Not really, since there was no way on earth she was getting in a car with him tonight. Not when just the sight of him had her hormones standing at attention, one whiff of him, her body thrumming. Not after spending the entire day thinking about him.

Remembering.

Aching.

Did he still hurt over the loss of what could have been? Did he still dream of her, of them? Had he ever?

Dominic blew out a breath and shook his head, his frustration clear. “It’s just a damn drive, Becca.”

It was so much more. Acceptance would be the first crack in the barrier she’d built around her heart after he’d walked out. With only the smallest encouragement, he would stop by on a regular basis, invite her to spend time with him. Which would, even if she kept her wits about her and turned him down, lead to more heartache. Just seeing him again made her yearn. Spending time with him was not an option.

She didn’t know why he was back in California. The why didn’t matter. What mattered was that he would be gone again soon. Dominic Price wasn’t the type to hang around. And she wasn’t stupid enough to believe she could change him. “Dominic.”

He let the silence hang between them a minute, then slowly straightened, and turned away. “Forget it.”

She watched him for a few paces, his steps slow, a bit too carefully placed, as if the simple act of walking caused him pain. The memory of him immobilized, his face covered in blood flashed into her mind. Hot on its heels was the confusion and pain that had colored his gaze as he’d stared up at her from the ER gurney. Her stomach hollowed. “Dom, wait.”

He stopped at the end of her walkway, and faced her. In the dim light she could just make out the tight set of his jaw.

“You shouldn’t be driving.”

“If anything happens, I take full responsibility for ignoring your advice. Your medical license is safe with me.”

He turned back to the van, which pissed her off more than his comment. “Dammit!” She stepped off the front step, caught up, and placed herself in front of him.

An eyebrow arched over the top of his sunglasses. “What do you plan to do, drive me?”

“Yes.”

“How will you get back home?”

She hadn’t thought that far in advance. All she knew was that the very last place he should be this soon after his accident, was behind the wheel of a car.

“See you around, Becca.” He left her standing there, staring at his retreating back as he circled the minivan and opened the driver’s door.

Damn idiot.
“I’m following you to make sure you get there.”

“Do whatever you feel you have to do,” he replied, his tone giving away how tired and pissed off he was. “I don’t care.”

Rebecca stalked back inside and grabbed her purse. Then she did exactly as she told him she would do: she followed him, all the way back to Auburn. Until he pulled into the driveway of a large two-story contemporary home nestled in the foothills, and parked in front of a three-car garage.

She remained in her car as he cut through the landscaping and made his way to the front door, used a key to let himself inside, and closed the door without a backward glance. Then she turned her car around and headed back to her empty condo, doing her best to deny that it was anything more than concern for his well-being that had driven her to follow him.

* * *

Laughter echoed from the opposite side of the door, surprising Rebecca as she rang the doorbell. A quick double check of the house numbers assured her she was at the right place. She’d been raised in this house so the chances of getting it wrong were slim, but in all the years she’d lived here, or in any of the years since, she’d never known laughter to be a part of it.

The door swung open, revealing her mother. Her dark auburn hair was natural—the bi-monthly trips to the salon used to keep the gray under control, not to change her natural color. The smile on her face was…while not unnatural, it was definitely something Rebecca didn’t see often enough.

“Rebecca, sweetheart, it’s so good to see you.”

“It’s good to see you, Mom.”

“Come on in.” She moved aside and made room.

“I can’t stay long. I have another shift at the hospital.” In fact, she’d just come off one shift and had planned on catching a few hours of sleep before the next one began. “Dad said it was important?”

Her mother’s brow wrinkled. “When are you going to find a nice man to take care of you so you don’t have to work so hard?”

“She doesn’t need a man to take care of her, Camille.”

“Thank you, Dad—”

“She needs to continue her schooling. If you specialized, Rebecca, you wouldn’t need to put in so many hours.”

Please, not tonight
. Though why she thought tonight would be different from any other visit was a mystery.

Her mother led her into the kitchen, seemingly oblivious to the tension that always permeated the room whenever Rebecca and her father were together. “How is she ever going to give us grandbabies if she’s working all the time?”

“Grandbabies require a husband, Camille.”

“Exactly and how is she to find one with her hours?”

Why did they always speak of her as if she wasn’t standing right next to them? Perhaps the better question was; what was with the sudden talk of grandchildren? “What’s going on?”

“The hospital is full of suitable candidates; all she needs to do is open her eyes. Who knows, there might be one standing right in front of her this whole time.”
Oh, shit, she knew where this was headed.
“A surgeon, like her father.”

“Tell me you didn’t.”

“Didn’t what, dear?” her mother asked.

The doorbell solidified Rebecca’s suspicions. Her throat went tight as a combination of anger and disappointment surged. She turned to her father. “Really? That’s what was so important?”

He didn’t even blink. “Get the door, would you, Rebecca?”

She headed for the front door and pulled it open. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“I’m sorry?” the man on the step asked.

“Nathan.” Her father spoke from just behind her. “So glad you could make it.”

Rebecca stared at the man with the sandy brown hair and hazel eyes who looked like he’d just stepped off the pages of
Gentleman’s Quarterly
. Dr. Nathan Connelly, chief trauma surgeon at her hospital and her father’s obvious choice to sire his grandchildren.

She’d been set up.

“Rebecca, how are you?” Nathan placed a hand on her shoulder and bent at the waist. “It’s good to see you outside of the hospital.”

She tipped her head so his lips brushed her cheek. “Fine. Thank you.”

“Do come in, Nathan,” her father continued. “We were just sitting down to supper.”

Her mother came out of the kitchen and embraced their guest. “Nathan, welcome.”

“We were talking about Rebecca returning to school. Becoming a surgeon like she’s always wanted.”

It wasn’t her dream to become a surgeon, but his dream for her. One he was never shy about vocalizing.

Nathan turned away from her father. A smile blossomed. “You’re going back to school?”

“No, I’m not.”

A frown tugged at her father’s mouth. “You’ve had your fun, Rebecca Jane. It’s time to get serious about your life.”

“My fun?”

“In emergency medicine. It’s time to do more, become more.”

Now probably wasn’t the time to tell him she was thinking about quitting medicine altogether. “Why don’t you tell Nathan the truth, Dad?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“No?” Rebecca looked back to Nathan. “We weren’t talking about schooling, we were talking about grandbabies. Specifically, who was going to father them.”

“Rebecca Jane,” her father warned.

The whole evening was a setup, starting with the talk of grandchildren. Was there any aspect of her life her father didn’t feel the need to interfere with?

“Congratulations, Nathan. By your invite, I’m guessing you are Dad’s choice for the job.”

Her father’s jaw tightened. A vein in his temple bulged. “Where are your manners, young lady?”

God, she was tired of this. Tired of never being good enough, never measuring up to what he expected of her. “Mother, I’m sorry, I…can’t do this tonight.”

Her mother’s hands were clenched together so tightly her knuckles were white. “Rebecca—”

“I really need to get some rest before my next shift at the hospital.”

Her mother closed her eyes, shook her head, then opened them again. Her father’s frown deepened.

Nathan gently grasped her elbow. “I’ll walk you out.” Neither spoke until they reached her car, where she stopped and pressed her fingers against her burning eyes. “I’m sorry, Rebecca,” he said, breaking the silence. “I assumed you knew I would be here tonight.”

“It’s not you, Nathan. It’s just…”

She’d never been good enough. Nothing she’d done had ever been good enough for Richard Dahlman. Eighteen years under the same roof, thirty-four as his daughter, and never once could she recall a single word of praise or a gesture that showed he was pleased with her. Pleased with his daughter.

No, he always just pushed harder. Pushed her for more, to go further.

Rebecca opened her eyes and blinked to clear her vision. “He never lets up.”

“He loves you.”

He loved the fact that she was smart enough to excel at anything she’d ever attempted. He loved that she was the good daughter, who toed the line, ignoring her personal wants and desires in order to make him happy. Whether he loved
her
– the woman who suddenly felt suffocated by her life – she just wasn’t certain. “He has my whole life planned out. I’ve known his plan for me since before I could talk.”

“There was a time you didn’t mind that I was a part of your father’s plan.”

There was a time he would have been exactly what she’d wanted. But that was before Dominic Price had come along. Before she was given a glimpse of happiness; a life that wasn’t blood and bodily fluids 24/7. Something she hadn’t even realized she wanted until he snatched it away from her when he left.

Rebecca had spent the last three years trying to forget. If not forget him, at least move past him. She’d even dated the man to her right.

And what a disaster that had been. Awkward and a bit…embarrassing. Oh, maybe not for Nathan, who wanted to give them another go. But the spark she knew could exist between two people, the heat and the fire; it wasn’t there between them, no matter how he wished otherwise. She and Nathan—they made better friends than lovers.