Mountain Song (15 page)

“Just for the sake of
argument,” Bea repeated calmly.

“Well, what makes you
think he would...want me?”

“Ha!”

Claudia waited for her
grandmother to elaborate. “Well?” she finally asked, lifting her head a little
to look.

Bea was shaking with
silent laughter, but catching Claudia’s eye she sobered up. Or tried to, at
least.

“What!”

“It’s just—”
With a final quick giggle, she rubbed her cheeks and pulled a long face, and
then regained her composure.

“It’s just that you
two are about the simplest smart people I’ve ever met.”

“But Bea,” Claudia
wailed. “I don’t see how you can laugh about this. He doesn’t love me.”

There. It was out. For
the first time in her life, Claudia had put into words the terrible truth that
had driven her from Andy.

Bea frowned, then
narrowed her eyes. “Did he tell you that?”

“That he doesn’t love
me?”

“Yes, of course.”

“Well, not exactly. But
he never said he did, either.”

“Well,” Bea said
gravely. “You are making the mistake of confusing two entirely unrelated
matters.”

“This is the
one-bedroom unit,” Betsy Curran said, opening the door and stepping aside. Claudia
allowed Andy to steer her inside the room, then turned slowly around.

“Well, I have to say,
it certainly is bright,” she said grudgingly.

In truth, it was more
than bright. It was beautiful. Compact in size, it was nonetheless
well-designed. A large bay window in the dining area overlooked the tops of
trees and the manicured courtyard below. Gleaming cabinets and modern
appliances were visible through the pass through to the kitchen, and there were
thick carpets underfoot.

“You were lucky to be
able to see this on such short notice,” Betsy continued. “We don’t usually have
any of these units available, but we’re just freshening this one up for a new
resident.” She consulted her clipboard. “A Mr. Eldon Wrightwood. Due tomorrow.”

“I certainly do
appreciate this,” Andy said, stepping aside to let Claudia walk around the
apartment.

“Oh, I wouldn’t miss
the opportunity to finally meet the famous Dr. Woods.”

Hearing the note of
flirtation in Betsy’s voice, Claudia snapped her head around. Sure enough,
Betsy’s body was curved unmistakably towards Andy, and she let the clipboard
she hugged to her chest slip downward, stretching her blouse snugly over her
breasts.

“I’m sorry I’ve never
followed up in person,” he replied. Though he was courteous, if he was picking
up on Betsy’s signals, he wasn’t showing it; his eyes followed Claudia around
the room.

“We do appreciate your
referrals so
very
much.”

“And I’ve had
excellent feedback.”

“Well, we are one of
the top-rated facilities in the state. Innovative...” Tina’s voice dropped
several notches. “Award-winning...” Claudia could swear she licked her lips.

“Very impressive,” she
broke in, her tone a little more aggressive than she intended. “But what sort
of medical care is available in this building?”

As Betsy described the
various options for nursing and other kinds of care, Claudia listened with only
fleeting attention. She was already sold on the place. She’d been amazed at the
beauty of the setting, the well-designed residential buildings, the quality of
the nearby medical facilities. They passed groups of seniors all about the
extensive campus, enjoying the sunny day. Some played tennis nearby; others
sipped tea under colorful umbrellas. A pair of ladies passed by in wheelchairs,
chatting amiably.

Nobody looked
miserable.

On the contrary, she
had to grudgingly admit, Fruitvale Senior Community looked even better than its
brochures. She could even picture her grandmother’s treasured Native American
weavings on that wall, Uncle Bud’s carved breakfront over there...

“I wonder if you’d
excuse me and—and Dr. Woods,” she finally broke in. “I’d like to discuss
a few details with him.”

“Of course,” the
lovely Betsy said. “Take all the time you want. Just close the door when you’re
done, and if you have any more questions, please stop by my office.”

“I’ll be sure to do
that,” Claudia said through clenched teeth.

“Do call, Dr. Woods,”
Betsy purred, “if I can be of further service.”

“I have to hand it to
you,” Claudia sighed when the door clicked shut. “I didn’t think a place like
this existed.”

“So you’ll consider
it?”

“Well, as Bea reminded
me this morning, it’s not my decision to make. But...if she likes it here as
much as I think she will, then I’d certainly support her decision.”

“Good. And your
father?”

“We only spoke for a
few minutes this morning, before I left for the hospital. He was on his way
into a meeting. Frankly, I think he’s still plenty worried about tomorrow’s
surgery. He’s not thinking any further than that right now.”

“He’ll be coming soon?”

“As soon as he can. Definitely
some time this week. I assured him I’d stay with Bea through the surgery.”

“I know she’ll
appreciate that. She should be alert and fairly comfortable by tomorrow
afternoon.”

Andy didn’t know what
else to say. Bea was a trooper, with a strong mind and generally good health. He’d
put money on a quick recovery. The surgery itself should be straightforward,
though he was concerned about the extent of the deterioration. Well, only time
would tell how much function she would regain.

Meanwhile the
important thing was that her future seemed to be falling into place.

Hell.

He wanted to slam a
fist through one of the nicely appointed walls. The important thing
right now
was that he wanted with every
twitching nerve in his body to take Claudia into his arms, carry her across the
room and love her right in the slanting sun of the big bay window.

She wanted
declarations? He’d give her declarations. Only...they never seemed to get out
of the bottleneck of his voice box. His heart was practically ready to fly
apart with pent-up emotions but every time he tried to put them into words...

Nada. Big fat nothing.

Right now, for
instance. “Uh, Claudia,” he said. “I’m...really glad you came out. To look
after Bea.”

She cut him a quick
glance, almost suspicious. “Well, in case I haven’t said it, thanks. I know you’ve
done a lot for her. In fact, I hate to think of where she’d be without you.”

“You two are lucky,”
Andy said gruffly.

“Oh? Why?”

“You’ve got this
crazy, up-and-down kind of relationship. You’re always butting heads, but
anyone could see the two of you are—well, that you love each other very
much.”

Claudia didn’t miss
the catch in his voice. He was right, of course. She
was
lucky to have Bea—and a father who adored her, sisters
and nieces and nephews. And Paul.

Andy had none of that.

“I’m sorry,” she
finally said softly. “About your father. I know you must miss him.”

“Yeah.”

“His death...it was
unexpected?”

Andy stared out the
window. “He died one morning while I was a thousand miles away, probably
reading some stupid medical journal. Massive heart attack, never had a chance.”

“Andy, you can’t—”

“Blame myself?” Andy
shrugged, a tight, bitter gesture. “No. I don’t. I try not to, anyway. Dad
worked two shifts his whole working life. Saved every penny. Hell, his idea of
a splurge was springing for a box of Wheaties instead of generic oatmeal. And
you know where that money went.”

It was a statement,
not a question. Claudia did know. “He
wanted
you to use it. It was his dream.”

“I know it.” Andy
turned to face her, and the iron strength was back in his clear eyes, the vulnerability
erased. “I’ve known it since I was just a kid. And I’ve promised myself one
thing, my entire life: that I was never going to let my old man down.”

Claudia ached with a
need to touch the man who stood before her, a man who’d given everything to fulfill
his father’s dream. A man who, she was afraid, would never be able to quite
satisfy himself that the debt had been repaid.

And unless Andy could
somehow get past the debt, he would never be able to let down his guard, not
even just a little, to let another soul slip inside.

He stood only inches
away, and yet the distance between her and Andy suddenly seemed so great that a
surge of loneliness clutched at Claudia’s heart. She couldn’t help it—a
choked sob caught in her throat.

Immediately the
hardness left Andy’s face, replaced with concern. “Claudia?” He reached for her
shoulders, held her at arms’ length, studied her. “I shouldn’t have rattled on
about my father. I...have no right to add to your burden. I know these few days
have been hard for you.”

Claudia shook her
head, not trusting her voice.

“It’s going to be all
right,” Andy said, pulling her awkwardly to him. His embrace was stiff,
tentative as he patted her pack, pressed her to him so her face was cradled
against the warm skin of his neck. Clearly it was a new thing for him to
console someone, and somehow that made it all the sweeter. “It’s hard now, I
know, but I really believe Bea’s going to recover and even thrive.”

“It’s not—”
Claudia began, but as her voice cracked Andy held her to him even more closely,
and the strong hands on her back stilled, the comfort in his touch suddenly
dangerously tinged with something else, something hot and forbidden and
entirely irresistible.

Claudia forgot what
she was going to say, forgot about Bea and Andy’s father and even forgot about
the comfort she wanted to offer this man who seemed doomed to forever battle
his own demons.

But maybe it was the
demons that called to her after all, because as Claudia melted into Andy’s
arms, she was seared with a ravenous urgency. She closed her eyes and shut out
the cheerful, bright room, shut out everything but the feeling of Andy’s strong
jaw against her skin, of his arms circling her.

And then, barely even
aware that she led this dangerous dance, Claudia pressed her hips against him,
felt the solid mass of his thighs through khaki and linen. She flicked out a
tongue to taste the vulnerable underside of his jaw, his throat, inhaling the
smell of him. Dizzy from it. Drunk on it.

He moaned in response,
and she felt his arms around her go rigid once again and then he was pushing
her away, holding her shoulders away from him while somehow their touch
remained unbroken below. She could feel him harden against her even as he
choked out her name. “Claudia. What the hell is this?”

 
Reluctantly she opened her eyes, gazed up
at him. Saw torment painted across his features.

“I...need you,” she
said simply. It was all she could manage. There was more to it than that,
something outside the edges of her consciousness. Something about caution and
fear and history and it was all drowned out by her reckless, screaming need. “I
need you to make love to me.”

His eyes darkened
further, and the corners of his mouth, the soft lips she was aching to claim,
tugged down. “Damn it, stop toying with me. You can’t turn this off and on. Last
night—”

Oh, yes. Last night
she’d stopped, she’d walked away from him. Why was that? She couldn’t remember.
The reason was gone, swirling into oblivion with everything else, leaving
behind only need and desire.

She wouldn’t stop now.

She didn’t know if she’d
voiced her promise, or if Andy read it in the electricity she was sure was
emanating from her, but it must have been enough.

Because he pulled her
to him, so swiftly she gasped, and claimed her mouth in a searing kiss. He
probed her depths, and she answered his rhythm, wanting to taste him just as
deeply. A moan escaped her and he drank it in as he guided her one, then two
steps, to the wall, and pressed her against it.

Claudia leaned against
the hard, cool, surface as Andy slid his hands down her body, then up again,
slowly. His mouth left hers and explored. A nip at her earlobe caused her to
jump, and then he traced slow circles with the tip of his tongue in the shell
of her ear.

A sensation of liquid
heat rocketed along her nerves to the very center of her, and then below, to
the core of her need. She arched against him, meeting the gentle rocking of his
hips, urging him on.

If there was anything
remaining of a question, that seemed to be all he needed. Andy shoved up the
fabric of her skirt, and she spread her thighs apart to accommodate him,
moaning again as he took his place against her.

Andy made quick work
of the few buttons of her blouse, pushing the soft linen fabric out of the way,
pausing just a moment before tracing the line of her bra with his lips and
tongue. Then he released the clasp in a deft twist of his wrists, and her
breasts spilled into his hands, the nipples pure sensation when his lips
brushed them.