Sanctuary (25 page)

“Did you see someone?”

“I didn't have any choice. I fell apart right in front of my assistant. He carted me off to the ER, and they hospitalized me for a few days. A mental breakdown. I don't care if we are nearing the twenty-first century, I don't care how it's intellectualized. I'm ashamed.”

“I'm telling you there's nothing shameful about it and that you have every right to feel whatever you want to feel.”

Jo's lips curved a little. “So I don't have to be ashamed that I'm ashamed.”

“Absolutely not. What was your work schedule like?”

“Tight, but I liked it tight.”

“Your social life?”

“Nil, but I liked it nil. And yes, that pretty much goes for my sex life too. I wasn't depressed or pining over a man or the lack of one. I've been thinking about my mother a lot,” Jo said slowly. “I'm nearly the same age she was when she left, when everything changed.”

And your life fell apart, Kirby thought. “And you wondered, worried, if everything was going to change again, beyond your control. I'm not a shrink, Jo, just an old-fashioned GP. That's a friend's speculation. What was the prognosis when you were released?”

“I don't know, exactly.” Jo shifted, crinkling the paper beneath her. “I released myself.”

“I see. You didn't note any prescriptions down on your form.”

“I'm not taking any. And don't ask me what they prescribed. I never filled anything. I don't want drugs—and I don't want to talk to a shrink.”

“All right, for now we'll handle this the old-fashioned way. We'll eliminate any physical cause. I'll prescribe fresh air, rest, regular meals—and some good, safe sex if you can get it,” she added with a smile.

“Sex isn't one of my priorities.”

“Well, honey, then you are crazy.”

Jo blinked, then snorted out a laugh as Kirby dabbed the inside of her elbow with alcohol. “Thanks.”

“No charge for insults. And the last part of the prescription is to talk. With me, with your family, with whoever you can trust to listen. Don't let it build up again. You're cared for, Jo. Lean a little.”

She shook her head before Jo could speak. “Your brother cares enough to drag you in here—here to a place he's avoided like the plague since I moved in. And if I'm any judge of character, he's out there right now pacing and muttering and worried sick that I'm going to go out and tell him his sister has three weeks to live.”

“It would serve him right.” Jo sighed heavily. “Even if I do feel better now than I have in weeks.” Then her eyes fastened on the syringe and widened. “What the hell is that for?”

“Just need a little blood.” Needle poised, Kirby grinned. “Want to scream, and see how long it takes him to run in here?”

Jo averted her eyes, held her breath. “I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.”

 

 

WHEN Jo was dressed again, Kirby tossed her a fat plastic bottle. “They're just vitamins,” she said. “High-potency. If you start eating right, you won't need them. But they'll give you a boost for now. I'll let you know when the blood work comes back from the lab, but everything else is within normal range.”

“I appreciate it, really.”

“Show it, then, by taking care of yourself and talking to me when you need to.”

“I will.” It always felt a bit odd for her to make an overtly affectionate move, but she stepped over and kissed Kirby's cheek. “I will. And I meant what I said. I feel better than I have in a long time.”

“Good. Follow Doctor Kirby's orders, and you should feel better yet.” Keeping her concerns to herself, she led Jo out.

Brian was exactly where she'd expected, restlessly pacing her living room. He stopped and scowled at them both. Kirby met the look with a bright smile.

“You have a bouncing one-hundred-and-ten-pound girl, Daddy. Congratulations.”

“Very funny. What the hell's wrong with you?” he demanded of Jo.

She angled her head, narrowed her eyes. “Bite me,” she suggested, then strolled to the door. “I'm walking back. Thanks for squeezing this idiot's whims into your schedule, Kirby.”

“Oh, I've been working on doing just that for months.” She chuckled as the screen door slammed.

“I want to know what's wrong with my sister.”

“She's suffering from acute brotheritis at the moment. While extremely irritating, it's rarely fatal.”

“I want a fucking straight answer,” he said between his teeth, and she nodded approvingly.

“I like you even better when you're human.” She turned to the coffeepot, pleased to see he'd made himself useful and had brewed fresh. “All right, straight answers. Would you like to sit down?”

His stomach jittered painfully. “How bad is it?”

“Not nearly as bad as you apparently think. You take it black, don't you? Like a real man.” Her breath caught when he closed a hand hard over her arm.

“I'm not in the mood for this.”

“Okay, so my witty repartee isn't going to relax you. It'll take a couple of weeks to get full test results back, but I can give you my educated opinion from the exam. Jo's a little run-down. She's edgy and she's stressed and she's annoyed with herself for being edgy and stressed. What she needs is exactly what you've shown me you can give her. Support—even when she kicks against it.”

The first trickle of relief loosened the pressure in his chest. “That's it? That's all?”

She turned away to finish pouring the coffee. “There's doctor-patient confidentiality. Jo's entitled to her privacy and to my discretion.”

“Jo's my sister.”

“Yes, and on a personal level I'm happy to see you take that relationship to heart. I wasn't sure that you did. Here.” She pressed the cup into his hand. “She came home because she needed to be home. She needed her family. So be there. That's all I can tell you. Anything else has to come from her.”

He paced away, sipping coffee without realizing it. All right, he thought, she wasn't suffering from any of the mysterious and deadly diseases he'd conjured up while he'd been waiting. She'd just run herself out of energy. It wasn't cancer or a brain tumor.

“All right.” This time he said it aloud. “I can probably browbeat her into eating regularly and threaten Lexy away from picking fights with her.”

“You're very sweet,” Kirby murmured.

“No, I'm not.” He set the cup down abruptly and stepped back. His worry had faded enough to allow him to see Kirby clearly. The way those mermaid eyes were smiling at him. The way she stood there, all cool and composed, all pink and gold. “I'm just looking out for myself. I want my routine back, and I won't get it until she's steadied out.”

Eyes warm, Kirby walked toward him. “Liar. Fraud. Softie.”

“Back off.”

“Not yet.” She reached up to catch his face in her hands. He'd stirred more than her lust this time, and she couldn't resist it. “You booked the physical for her, and you haven't paid the bill.” She rose to her toes. “My services don't come cheap.” And brushed her lips to his.

His hands were at her waist as the taste of her flooded into him. “I keep telling you to back off.” He tilted his head, deepened the kiss. “Why don't you listen?”

Her breath was already starting to back up, clog her lungs. A glorious sensation. “I'm stubborn. Persistent. Right.”

“You're aggressive.” His teeth nipped into her bottom lip, tugged. “I don't like aggressive women.”

“Mmm. Yes, you do.”

“No, I don't.” He pushed her back against the counter until his body was pressed hard and hot to hers, until his mouth could fix firmly and devour. “But I want you. Happy now?”

She tipped her head back, moaning when his mouth raced down her throat. “Give me five minutes to cancel my afternoon appointments and we'll both be ecstatic. Brian, put your hands on me, for God's sake.”

“It's not going to be easy.” He nipped at her ear where a little emerald stud winked at the lobe, worked his way restlessly back to her mouth to plunder until her nails dug into his shoulders. He saw himself taking her there, where they stood, just dragging down his fly, dragging down her neat trousers and plunging in until this desperate need, this vicious frustration, was behind him.

But he didn't touch her, didn't take her. Instead, he used the ache churning inside him to control them both. He wrapped his hand around her throat, drew her head back until their eyes met. Hers were the green of restless seas, urging him to dive in.

“It's going to be my way. You're going to have to accept that.”

Nerves shuddered through desire. “Listen—”

“No, we're done with that. Done with the games too. You could've backed off, but you didn't. Now it's going to be my way. When I come back, we're going to finish this.”

Her breath was coming fast, her blood pumping hot. For a moment she hated him for being able to study her with eyes so cool and controlled. “Do you think that scares me?”

“I don't think you've got sense enough to let it scare you.” And he smiled, slowly, dangerously. “But it should. When I come back,” he repeated and stepped away from her. “And I won't give a damn if you're ready.”

She steadied herself and grabbed for some pride. “Why, you arrogant bastard!”

“That's right.” He walked toward the door, praying he could make it out before the aching for her made him groan aloud. He shot her a last look, skimming his gaze over the tousled, sunlit hair, the eyes that sparkled with a range of dangerous emotions, the mouth that was still swollen from his. “I'd go tidy myself up a bit, doc. Your next patient just pulled up.”

He let the screen slam behind him.

L
ITTLE Desire cottage wasn't much of a detour on the way back to Sanctuary. In any case, Jo thought, scrambling to justify it, the walk would do her good.

Maybe she wanted to take some afternoon shots of the river, see how many more wildflowers had bloomed. And since she'd be walking by, it would be rude not to at least stop in.

Besides, it was family property.

She even worked out a little just-passing-by excuse, did some mental rehearsing to perfect just the right casual tone. So it was quite a letdown to get to the cottage and see that Nathan's Jeep was gone.

She stood at the base of the stairs a moment, debating, then quickly mounted them before she could change her mind. There was nothing wrong with slipping in, just for a second, leaving a note. It wasn't as if she would disturb anything or poke around. She just wanted to—Damn it, his door was locked.

It was another minor jolt. People on Desire rarely locked their doors. Too curious now to worry about manners, she pressed her face to the glass panel and peered in.

On the long table that served the kitchen area sat a compact laptop computer, frustratingly and neatly closed. A streamlined printer stood beside it. Long tubes that she assumed held blueprints were stacked nearby. One large square of paper was unrolled and anchored at the corners with a jar of instant coffee, an ashtray, and two mugs. But no matter how she shifted or angled her head, she couldn't make out what was printed on it.

None of my business anyway, she reminded herself, straining to see. At a crash of leaves behind her she stepped back quickly, looked over her shoulder. A wild turkey cut loose with its quick, gobbling call and lumbered into flight. With a roll of her eyes, Jo patted her skipping heart. It would be perfect if Nathan himself strolled out of the trees and caught her spying into his house.

She reminded herself that she had dozens of things she could do, dozens of places she could go. It wasn't as though she'd gone out of her way to see him. By much.

It was probably best that she'd missed him, she told herself, as she jogged back down the stairs and headed home. Taking the Palmetto Trail, she followed the bend of the river into the thick shade where muscadine vines and resurrection ferns turned forest to verdant jungle.

She didn't need the kind of distraction, the kind of complication that Nathan Delaney was bound to bring to her life just now. She was just getting back on her feet.

If she pursued a relationship with him, she'd have to tell him about ... things. And if she told him, that would be the end of the relationship. Who wanted to get tangled up with a crazy woman on their vacation?

The path twisted, crowded in by the saw palmettos that gave it its name. She heard the turkey call again, and the long, liquid notes of a warbler. Her camera bag thudded at her hip as she quickened her pace and argued with herself.

So, by not starting anything, she was just saving them both time and embarrassment.

Why the hell hadn't he been home?

“Ssh.” Giff put a hand over Lexy's mouth when he heard footsteps coming along the path near the clearing that was guarded by thick oak limbs and cabbage palms. “Someone's passing by,” he whispered.

“Oh.” In a lightning move, Lexy grabbed her discarded blouse and pressed it to her breasts. “I thought you said Nathan had gone over to the mainland for the day.”

“He did. I passed him on his way to the ferry.”

“Then who—oh.” Lexy snickered as she peeked through palm fronds. “It's just Jo. Looking annoyed with the world, as usual.”

“Quiet.” Giff ducked Lexy's head down with his. “I'd just as soon your sister not catch me with my pants down.”

“But you've got such a nice ...” She made a grab for him, and muffling giggles, they tussled until Jo passed out of sight.