Promises (6 page)

He took another taste of his soup.
 
“So, what do you do out here all alone?
 
I assume it’s just you and Monstro over there.”

“Yes, it’s just the two of us, and his name is Rocky.”
 
She patted the large head that landed in her lap at the mention of her guardian’s name.
 
“I’m an artisan.
 
I do wood carvings.
 
Walking sticks, pipes, that sort of thing.
 
I sell them through the mail and to catalog companies.”
 
All true.
 
Her new life was fairly complete.
 
Jill Proffit simply didn’t have a past.

“Don’t you get lonely?”

Scratching behind Rocky’s ear, she said, “Not really.
 
I like my privacy.
 
But I do go into town from time to time for supplies and things.”
   

“How long have you been living here?”

“A while.”
 
Were they just chatting or was he digging for information?
 
Something told her it was most definitely a sneaky interrogation.
 

Once an agent, always an agent.
 
She couldn’t really blame him.
 
After all, he’d recently been shot and didn’t know anything about her.
 
Or so he believed.

“Tell me about Mark Schuster.
 
What does he do for a living?”
 
He grinned broadly.
 
“I mean, what do I do for a living?”

“He, I mean, you are a journalist for Art Today magazine.”

“Am I any good?”

“Fair.”
 
She grinned at the false look of indignation on his face.
 
“You’re on vacation and decided to stop by for a visit.”

“So we parted amicably.
 
Well, at least I’m noble.”

She laughed, enjoying the feel of it as the sound bubbled up from her chest.
 
There hadn’t been much to laugh about for so very long.
 
“I wouldn’t go that far.
 
We were friends who tried dating a little and decided not to get serious.”

“Ah, no fooling around.
 
So there’s no hope for reminiscing about old times, I take it?”
 
His mouth turned up at the corners in a teasing grin.
 

She was grateful for the low light as a rush of heat surged into her cheeks.
 
“No.
 
There’s absolutely no chance of reminiscing since there’s nothing to reminisce about.”
 

His grin changed into a deliciously sensuous smile.
 
“My loss,” he said softly.
 

All the air evaporated from Bobbi’s lungs as their gazes locked.
 

A rumble of thunder rolled in from the distance, breaking the tense silence that fell between them.
 

Travis cleared his throat and glanced at the window.
 
“Sounds like we’re not done with the wet stuff.”

“No.
 
We’re under a severe storm advisory.
 
They’re fairly regular this time of year.”
 

Bobbi turned to the window and watched the leaves spinning in the wind.
 
It had picked up quite a bit since she’d brought in the last load of firewood.
 
Maybe with a little luck, something she seemed to be in short supply of lately, the storm would turn back out to sea.
   

The wind whistled around the cabin, and she grimaced.
 
Bad weather or no, she would be sleeping upstairs in the guestroom.
 
Alone.
 
During the storm.
 
Travis didn’t need her to watch over him any longer.
 

“Please, turn back out to sea,” she whispered.

“Something wrong?”

“No, I’m just not real fond of storms.”
 
She clutched her knees as the light flickered then burned steadily.
 
No, not the power again
.
 

The few minutes the lights had been out the night before had unnerved her enough.
 
She did not need to be alone with Travis in the dark.
 
When he was asleep the situation had been bearable, but awake and looking the way he looked?
 
Uh-uh.
 
Definitely not a good thing.
 

His spoon clanked against the edge of his bowl.
 
“You sure you’re all right?”

“Fine.”
 
Setting her jaw, she decided to quit fretting over things she couldn’t control.
 
“I’ll just get my stuff and take it upstairs.”
 

Stepping into the bathroom, she took a long deep breath.
 
She couldn’t deny being edgy, but was it the pounding rain and booming thunder or the handsome man in her bed that had her wound so tight?
 

Lifting her gaze to study the confused frazzled woman in the mirror, she gasped.
 
Her eyes.
 
She’d forgotten about her blasted eyes.
 
He had her so distracted she forgot to put in her contacts.
 
She only wore them went she went into town, and of course the evening before when Ted came to take care of Travis.
 
She quickly fumbled for her contact case.

“Jill?”
 

Had he noticed?
 
He would’ve said something wouldn’t he?
 
Or did he remember enough about her to connect her eye color with Barbara McBride?
 

“Hey, are you okay?” he called again.

“I’m fine.
 
Um, there was a spider in the sink.
 
It’s gone now.”
 
Snapping open the contact case, she quickly slipped the colored lenses into her eyes.
 
She hated the things, but didn’t have much choice.
 
Surely he would have said something.
 
Everyone did.
 

Deciding he must not have noticed, she looked once again into the mirror.
 
A blonde haired, blue-eyed stranger stared back at her.
 
When was this horrible game of hide-and-seek going to be over?
 
Where was Jason?
 
And why was Travis here?

“Are you sure you’re okay?”
 
His deep voice sent a shiver down her spine, and she wondered how her real name would sound on his lips.

Biting back a curse, she stuck her head around the corner.
 
“I’m fine.
 
The spider was more afraid of me than I was of it.
 
I’ll be out in a minute.
 
I don’t have much.”
 
She quickly went back to collecting her things.

“I’ve run you out of your bed, haven’t I?” he asked.

As she gathered her toothbrush, toothpaste, hairbrush, and a few other items, she called back to him.
 
“You weren’t exactly in any condition to climb the stairs last night.”
 
She piled everything she needed into her arms then stepped out of the bathroom.
 

Rocky’s growl brought her head up from the mass of paraphernalia.
 
Travis had set his lunch tray aside and was angling to get out of bed.

Dropping her things in the chair, she immediately hurried to the side of the bed.
 
“What do you think you’re doing?”

“I’m getting up.
 
It isn’t right that I’ve thrown you out of your own bed.”
 
He struggled to stand, holding the sheet loosely around his waist with one hand while the other firmly gripped the edge of the nightstand.
 
His face paled rapidly.
 

“No, you’re not.”
 
She grabbed him by the arms and tried to gently guide him back into bed.
 
“You’ll never get better if you keep using all your strength arguing with me and trying to get up.”

He placed his hand on her shoulder and pushed feebly against her.
 
“I won’t
—
run you out
—
of your bed.”
 

She clearly heard the pain amid his broken words.
 
“I have another bed.
 
Now, lie down.”
 
She gave him one last shove.

He let go of the sheet and grabbed her as they toppled down to the mattress together.
 
His strong arms wrapped tightly around her, pressing her face neatly into the curve of his neck.
 
She could feel his heart pounding against her breasts.
 
It felt wonderful, but she would not, could not get involved with Travis Reid.
 
No matter how much her pulse raced from the feel of his bare skin against her cheek.
 

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Lifting her head, she nodded.
 
She should get off of him.
 
She should pull herself out of his warm embrace and help him into bed.
 
She should stop staring at his lips.
 
Close enough for a
—
“You have to stop trying to get out of bed,” she said, interrupting that dangerous thought.

He grinned crookedly, still holding her firmly against his chest.
 
“Not if you’re going to keep helping me get back into it.”

“You did that on purpose?”
 
Fuming, she shoved and wriggled off of him.

“No, but I sure did enjoy the outcome.”
 
He smiled widely as he raised his arms and clasped his hands behind his head.
 

If he weren’t so pale, if she thought for one minute that he could have faked it, she’d
—
she’d
—
oh!
 
She didn’t know what she’d do, but it wouldn’t be pleasant.

His devilish eyes studied her.
 
“Perhaps we could share.
 
You wouldn’t want me to feel guilty, would you?”
 
He winked slyly.

Her mouth snapped shut.
 
Of all the conceited, pompous
—
he was far worse than Roger had ever been.
 

Growling low and deep, she said, “You will stay in that bed
—
alone
—
until you can walk out of here.”
 
She marched back to where she’d dropped her things, snatched them up, and stormed toward the door.
 

Stomping up the stairs and into the guestroom, she dropped her bath items on the dresser.
 
“The nerve of the man.
 
Share my bed indeed.
 
And to think I was worried about him.
 
Ha!
 
The chances I took calling a doctor to sew up his leg.”
 

Oh, God.
 
His stitches.

She hurried toward the door then stopped.
 
No, she refused to go.
 
He brought it on himself trying to get out of bed that way.
 
It would serve him right if he’d pulled his stitches and was bleeding and
—
arrrrgh!
  

She flew back down the stairs, around the corner, and nearly tripped over Rocky, before stopping cold just inside the bedroom door.
 
The rat was sitting up in the center of the bed finishing the rest of his lunch as if nothing happened.

He looked up from the tray with a smug grin.
 
“Something wrong?”

She narrowed her eyes.
 
Rat was too nice a word.
 
“I came to see if your stitches were still intact and to make sure you weren’t bleeding on my best sheets.”
 
Her tone couldn’t have been more glacial, but he didn’t appear fazed in the least.

“I didn’t check, but I’m sure they’re fine.”
 
He popped the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth and made a display of dusting off his hands.

Although seething, she still couldn’t quite make herself turn around and leave the room.
 
Did his voice sound strained?
 
“I think I’ll have a look, if you don’t mind?”
 

“Are you sure you don’t just want to play nursemaid?”
 
He waggled his dark brows as he wiped his mouth with a napkin.

Was that what she was doing?
 
Using his injuries as an excuse to be near him, to touch him?
 
Well, whatever her motives, she wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d checked his bandages.
 

Glowering down at him, she moved the tray aside.
 
She’d just have to make sure not to let him rile her.
 
She would remain cool and calm.
 

Pulling back the covers to expose his leg, the flash of red on the gauze pierced her heart.
 
Blast him and his foolish games!
 
If only he hadn’t grabbed her, the big oaf.
 
Grumbling under her breath, she threw herself into action and quickly retrieved the first-aid kit from the bathroom.

“It’s only a little blood.
 
It’s fine.
 
I don’t need fresh bandages,” he said.
 

Ignoring him, she returned with the supplies and sat on the edge of the bed.

He shifted, edging away from her.
 
“You really don’t have to do this.
 
I’m perfectly capable of changing the bandage myself.”
 

About to make a flippant remark, she looked up at his face and promptly bit her tongue.
 
Beads of sweat speckled his brow.
   

Men and their damnable pride.
 
“Be quiet and sit still.”

A broad smile swept across his face.
 
“Yes, ma’am.”

Didn’t he ever stop?
 
Well, if he thought he was going to get anywhere with his flirting, he had another think coming.
 
She let out a deep breath as she fumbled for a fresh bandage.
 

Who was she kidding?
 
He had her tied up in six different kinds of knots.
 
Some of which she’d never experienced before.
 
Oh, she’d been head-over-heels for Roger, but never like this.
 
Of course, it wasn’t everyday her dark prince came waltzing into her life.
 

Geez, when would that old teenage fantasy die?
 
He was not her prince, but an old family friend.
 
One who needed her help whether he wanted it or not.
 
Still, she was going to have a terrible time changing his bandage with him watching and smiling at her with that Cheshire cat grin of his.
 

Squaring her shoulders, she speedily unwrapped the bandage.
 
The sooner she got it over with, the better.

Travis watched her trembling fingers and sucked in his breath as they brushed against his skin.

“I’m sorry, am I hurting you?”
 
Her hands hovered above him.

“No.”
 
He cleared his throat.
 
“It’s all right.
 
Go ahead.”
 
Laying his head back, he closed his eyes.
 
Maybe if he didn’t watch.
 

After their little spill onto the bed, it took a monumental effort to calm his pounding heart.
 
She’d felt so good in his arms, filling them perfectly.
 
And the way she wriggled against him.
 
Man, what a feeling.

If he hadn’t been so weak, and if she wasn’t his best friend’s sister, his lips would have slowly made their way up the smooth column of her throat until he reached her perfect bow of a mouth.
 
Once there he’d lose himself in the heady taste of her.

Shifting the covers slightly, he hid his growing arousal.
 
He didn’t want to scare her off or make her angrier.
 
She’d done a pretty good job of taking care of him so far, and he didn’t want her to stop.
 
He thoroughly enjoyed her ministrations, torture though it was.
 

Needing a change in the direction of his thoughts, he concentrated on the gauze pulling at the stitches.
 
Not a pleasant feeling, but once the bandage had been removed and the air touched his wound, it felt better.
 
He’d taken a bullet once before a long time ago, a memory he repeatedly ignored, but he’d forgotten how it could hurt like hell.