Wild Honey (11 page)

As for tonight, she supposed there was no harm in a walk on the beach. Maybe it was the least she could do, what with that lovely bouquet. Wildflowers. Who’d have thought it? From a man who dodged bullets for a living. As surprising as snow in August.

“D
O YOU EVER HAVE
second thoughts about giving up medicine?” Randi asked as she and Travis strolled along the water’s edge.

Silvery light from the half-moon that had risen limned his features as he glanced down at her, and she saw him smile. Sadly? she wondered. Moonlight was tricky, and she couldn’t be sure.

“I’d be lyin’ if I said no regrets,” he told her. “A man doesn’t spend years of his life preparin’ for somethin’, then abandon it without payin’ a price. Sure, I’ve had regrets. But I’ve never let myself dwell on ‘em. There’s a lot in the practice of medicine that’s rewardin’, but so’s the alternative I chose.”

“The CIA?” she said skeptically. “But medicine’s about
saving
lives.” She shook her head. “From all I’ve heard and read, the CIA—”

“—has saved countless lives, or I wouldn’t be there. Whatever its reputation with the general public—and the press—make no mistake about it, Randi, the Agency’s crucial to the national welfare. Workin’ there’s all about service to one’s country. It’s been vastly satisfyin’.”

“If you say so.” She still sounded skeptical.

He glanced at her with amusement. “Lord, woman, you are one hard sell!”

She laughed. “Well, you can’t blame me for—”

“Look out!” he yelled, and caught her hand as the tide sent a breaker rolling up the beach.

She yelped and gripped his hand as he pulled her away. Foaming salt water soaked her sneakers and kept on coming’ as they raced for safer ground.

“Damn, that’s cold!” Travis exclaimed, but he was laughing, and so was she.

“Can’t…can’t imagine…what makes…makes you say that!” she got out between gasps of laughter.

He gave a whoop. “Whoo—ee, lady, you sure are…”

The words faded as he saw her shiver. “Here,” he said, removing the windbreaker he’d retrieved from his car before they left. Wrapping it around her, he pulled her against him with one arm, using his free hand to rub her back.

“Better?” he murmured against the crown of her head. Her hair was incredibly soft and silky, and he caught a subtle scent of flowers.

She nodded, despite another shiver. But she wasn’t cold. His body heat enveloped her like a warm glove. Her senses swam as she leaned against the solid wall of his chest. “I—I’m fine,” she murmured unsteadily.

“You sure?” His voice had a faint huskiness. He could feel her curves through the sweats, was instantly reminded of the way she’d looked in the kitchen. Hell, he was getting hard.

Alerted by the change in his voice, Randi felt reality intrude. And then she felt it: an unmistakable pressure against her belly.
Oh, God…

Clearing a throat that suddenly felt constricted, she pulled away. “I think we’d better be getting back.”

But she couldn’t move. He was looking down at her with a question in his eyes, and she knew he wanted to kiss her. What would it feel like? she wondered. His chiseled features washed by moonlight, he reminded her of some ancient pagan god, risen from the sea. Beautiful and terrible at the same time. She quelled another shiver.

Travis had every intention of kissing her. Hell, he wanted to do a lot more than kiss her, though it’d do for starters.
He hadn’t been this turned on by a woman in a long time. Maybe never.

But something held him back. There was a wall here. He saw it in her eyes, her body language. For a simple kiss? At her age? What was with her?

Whatever it was, he wasn’t going to push the envelope. He was extremely attracted to Randi as a woman, but his main objective was forming a relationship with Matt. A lot was riding on this, and he had time on his side. He could wait.

“Okay, sugar,” he said with a gentle smile, and pressed a brotherly kiss to her forehead. “Let’s go.”

He was aware of a release of some of her tension as he draped an arm casually over her shoulders and turned her toward the cottage. He’d made the right decision.

As they headed back, Randi congratulated herself for keeping him at a distance. And wondered at the stab of disappointment she felt.

T
RAVIS LEFT
Randi at her door with nothing more intimate than another light kiss on the forehead. Which, of course, was a relief. She hadn’t known what to expect as they’d come up the walk, but she’d been apprehensive. He could make her feel like a moonstruck teenager. Not that she’d ever been such a teenager, which perhaps explained it.

She realized the night was still young as she let herself inside, but went straight to bed. Somehow the idea of reading into the wee hours had lost its allure. Sleeping till noon, moreover, seemed like a dumb idea. Why waste the beautiful weather holing up in bed?

Especially, she thought as she lay tossing and turning a couple of hours later, when she couldn’t sleep anyway.

J
ILL CALLED
the next day from Atlanta. She reported that Matt was excited and happy, getting a huge kick out of waving at the truck drivers they passed and the Dr. Seuss stories Jill played on the car’s tape deck.

And he still talked constantly about Travis.

“So here’s my advice,” Jill said, “though I’m afraid you’re not gonna like it. But I talked it over with David last night, and we agree it’s your best bet.”

“Wonderful,” Randi muttered. “I’ve got a situation I already don’t like, and my beloved sister tells me I’m not gonna like the solution.”

Jill laughed, and then Randi mentioned Travis’s visit the night before.

“Well, that’s perfect, then,” Jill declared.

“Whaddaya mean, perfect?”

“I’m about to explain, love. Now, listen up…”

Jill had been right, Randi thought as she hung up a few minutes later; she didn’t like it. Her sister’s advice, seconded by David, was that Randi spend even more time in McLean’s company. “It’s your best hope of finding out what he wants,” she’d argued. “And the fact that Travis is still around makes it perfect. You’ll never have a better chance, Randi, what with Matt away.”

Randi had done her best to resist, but in the end, Jill’s logic won out. It was her own fault. She’d given Jill only a sketchy rundown of Travis’s visit. She’d said nothing about her unwilling attention to the man, about the unnerving effect he had on her. Her sister was always going on about how she should be seeing men, dating. She’d probably jump on Randi’s attraction to McLean and urge her to pursue it!

No way,
she thought as she finished her morning coffee, then dressed for the beach. Still, she found herself taking extra pains with her hair. And the lunch she fixed and took in the cooler had more food than she, herself, could consume in a week.

Yet she wound up toting copious leftovers back to the cottage that afternoon. Travis hadn’t appeared at the beach. Nor did he call or show up unannounced at her door, as she’d half anticipated on the walk back.

Evening found her ensconced on the couch, regarding the unread novel with a baleful eye. How was she supposed to follow Jill’s plan if Travis wasn’t in evidence? Not that she really wanted him to be, she told herself.

She tapped the book against a knee clad in white designer jeans. No skimpy attire for her tonight. She’d dressed modestly, yet not without an eye to style. The handkerchieflinen sleeveless tunic she wore over the jeans was a color called persimmon. Strappy white sandals completed an en-
semble that showed off her tan and looked smart. But it appeared all this had been a wasted effort.

Curse the man! Her life, since his recent entrance into it, had become more complicated than-

A knock at the door had her slamming the book down and leaping to her feet. She hurried to answer it, checking herself in the hallway mirror as she passed.

“That you, McLean?” she called through the door.

“In the flesh, sugar. Open up.”

She did, then took a small step backward, feeling her pulse race. There was no mistaking the naked appreciation in the eyes he ran over her.

She quickly shifted her gaze, concentrating on what he held in his arms. “What on earth?”

Travis’s grin was a bit sheepish as she gestured at the cardboard carton he held. And the shaggy lop-eared puppy inside it.

“Meet Ulysses,” Travis said as he sauntered in.

“Ulysses,” Randi echoed. She noted a heavily padded bandage on the pup’s foreleg and wondered why he’d brought the creature here. “Is he yours? And what’s wrong with his leg?”

“He’s mine if someone doesn’t claim him, but I don’t think that’ll happen. The consensus of me ‘n’ my landlady is that his owner doesn’t want him. He and a littermate were just dumped, we suspect, on the road.”

“The poor thing,” she murmured sympathetically. How could people treat helpless animals so cruelly?

“Mrs. Muncie’s already decided to keep his brother,” Travis went on as he headed for the kitchen. “And because of my, uh, medical background, I was nominated to look out for Ulysses here. His leg’s broken—”

“Broken!”

Travis’s eyes were angry as he glanced at her before setting the carton carefully on the floor. “A car hit him. It was how we came across the pups. There was a squeal of
tires outside the bed-and-breakfast this morning. And then we heard some godawful yelping from this little guy.”

“Dear Lord…” Randi murmured, bending down to stroke Ulysses’ head.

“The driver stopped and offered to take him to a vet before he went to work,” Travis went on, “but I told him I’d take care of it.” He shrugged. “I had the time, and it kept me from thinkin’ ‘bout the creep that dumped ‘em.”

Ulysses gave Randi’s hand a gentle lick that made her heart turn over. Then he curled up on the folds of beach towel at the bottom of the carton, put his head on his paws and closed his eyes.

“He’s sleepy from the sedative the vet gave him,” Travis explained, “and I was told to keep an eye on him, so…” He leaned against the refrigerator and gave her that boyish grin again. “Uh, d’you mind?”

“That you brought him here?” She smiled at the sleeping pup. He was adorable, really, with a shaggy salt-andpepper coat, feathered whiskers that extended below his chin like a beard, and a snub nose. “Well, no, of course not, but what did you, uh…”

“Have in mind?” Travis’s grin became a lazy tantalizing curve of those chiseled lips with nothing of the boy in it. “Oh, I thought we’d just hang out a spell. Y’know, maybe get around to some things we, uh, didn’t have a chance to pursue last night.”

He was looking directly at her mouth as he said this, and Randi felt her breath catch and a queer little lurch in the pit of her stomach.

She swallowed thickly and lowered her gaze, then swallowed again, an ambivalent mix of emotions confusing her as nothing ever had. His white canvas shorts revealed long powerful bronzed thighs, glinting with blond hairs. Suddenly she didn’t know where to look.

“Uh, there’s a screened porch out back,” she murmured, seizing on the first thing that came to mind. “Why don’t
you take Ulysses out there, and…and I’ll fix us some lemonade?”

“Sounds good, sugar.” In a single graceful movement, Travis launched his tall frame from the refrigerator and gently scooped up Ulysses, carton and all. “And while you’re fixin’ the drinks, I’ll run to the car ‘n’ fetch the clams.”

“Clams?”

“Steamers,” he clarified on his way out. “They gave Ulysses a painkiller right away, but the vet’s office was jammed. Had to spend most of the day waitin’ for the leg to be set. Never had supper—lunch, either, come to think of it,” he called over his shoulder. “Be right back.”

She thought about what he’d said as she made a jug of lemonade. More specifically she thought about him. About the kind of man he was to forgo lunch and dinner to help a wounded animal that wasn’t his responsibility in the first place. Her estimation of Travis McLean inched up several notches.

The steamers turned out to be a movable feast. There were two large buckets of them, along with enough broth to float a battleship and the drawn butter to grease it. A loaf of crusty French bread and fresh tomatoes from a roadside stand had Randi wishing she hadn’t wasted her appetite on the can of soup she’d heated for supper.

“So, what happens to Ulysses now?” she asked, wiping her fingers on a napkin he’d brought with the food. They’d talked in a desultory fashion during the meal about nothing much in particular. Now, sated and relaxed, they faced each other across a low wicker table over the remains of the feast; she lounged in a cushioned wicker armchair while Travis sprawled lazily on the matching settee.

“And why the name Ulysees, by the way?” she added, pitching her napkin onto the tray of remains on the table.

“Well, the original Ulysses was a wanderer, too.
Through no fault of his own, I might add, other than bein’ in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Travis leaned down and stroked the pup’s fur, then smiled at her. “He eventually reached his home, though. I figured this little fella deserves the same fate. A good home, that is.”

“So you’re going to keep him?”

“Depends,” Travis said. “I will if I can’t find him somethin’ better.” He rubbed his chin contemplatively. “Trouble is, I’m not really set up for a dog, much as I love ‘em. I live in an apartment, and I’m away at work most of the time. It really wouldn’t be fair to an animal.”

He eyed her speculatively. “You ‘n’ Matt have a dog?”

“No, we—” She halted abruptly, noting the alert look in his eyes. “Now, wait a minute, McLean! If you think—”

“Kids ‘n’ dogs sorta go together, don’t they? I mean, unless there’s a problem. Uh, Matt’s not allergic or anythin’, is he? Or…he’s not afraid of dogs?”

“Of course not! Matt loves animals. I’ve thought of getting him a pet, but only when he’s older. A four-year-old isn’t—”

“I got my first dog when I was four. A chocolate Lab I named Hershey. Hershey and I were inseparable. He slept at the foot of my bed, woke me in the mornin’ with his big foolish tongue ‘n’ went everywhere with me. Heck, ol’ Hersh was the best friend I ever had as a kid.”

“Oh? And I suppose you took him to school with you when you reached school age? And of course you were the one who housebroke him?”

For the second time that evening, Travis looked sheepish. It had been the butler who’d housebroken Hershey, and there’d been a bevy of servants to see to the dog’s needs when he couldn’t. Yet Travis remembered doing his part, even cleaning up the occasional “accident.” It taught him something about responsibility.
A boy ought to have a dog, for Pete’s sake!

“What if I were to housebreak him for you?” he suggested. “I could train him some, too. Y’know, give him the basics—sit, lie down, stay.”

The more he thought about it, the more he liked the idea. The pup would be a tie between him and his son. God, he’d love to see Matt’s face light up when he found out he’d have his very own dog!

Of course, he had to get past Matt’s mother first. And she wasn’t looking too enthusiastic right now. “What do you say, Randi?” he asked carefully. “Will you at least think about it?”

She had every intention of saying no, but the look of boyish anticipation on his face had her wavering. Again. Her glance fell on the sleeping puppy. Matt would love it of course. But there was Jill to consider. Her sister would still be in charge of Matt during Randi’s working hours, but at her new home with David—at least until Matt started school. And Randi had a suspicion Matt would insist on bringing any dog he owned with him.

Still, she supposed she could at least air the idea with Jill and David. “I’ll think about it,” she told Travis, and rose to clear away the remains of their meal.

“Good.” He rose, too, brushing her hands away from the tray. “Here, I’ll do that.”

“No, I…” She stepped back a pace as a giddy shiver ran through her. That slight brush of his hands on hers had sent the equivalent of an electric current through her.

She couldn’t explain it. One moment she’d been relaxing with him over a meal; yet in the space of a heartbeat, she stood here, tingling and tongue-tied. She stared helplessly, utterly drawn by that masculinity he wore with confidence and grace. Like it or not, she knew she’d never been more aware of anyone as a man.

Had he noticed? She glanced at his face and swallowed. From the way he was looking at her, he had.

“Hey, darlin’, what’s wrong?” Travis quickly set the
tray aside and came around the table. “You okay?” He tilted her face up with a touch of his knuckles under her chin.

A light breeze was building, lifting the napkins on the tray; it provided the excuse she needed. “I’m okay,” she told him, rubbing her arms with her hands. “It’s just a bit chilly.”

“Here,” he murmured, taking over for her and running his hands up and down her arms. This only brought another giddy quiver, and he drew her close, wrapping his arms around her like a warm cocoon.

Randi’s heart was thudding like a drum, and she told herself to pull away. But there was something oddly nonthreatening about the embrace, despite the storm clamoring inside her. These were a man’s arms, yes. But they were also arms that had cradled a puppy with tender care. They belonged to a man who’d recently stood beside a tidal creek for hours, and with patience and forbearing, taught a small boy how to catch crabs.

Quit fighting it, Terhune,
the familiar inner voice chided.
Just this once. Haven’t you wanted to know what it would be like? To let a man hold you? To relax in a man’s arms and see where it leads?

There was a moment’s hesitation. Then, with a soft sigh, she leaned her head against his chest.

Travis smiled as he rested his chin on the top of her head. She felt so damned good in his arms he wanted to hold her all night. Not that he’d tell her that. Although he’d made some inroads, she was still skittish. Too bad he didn’t know what was behind it. But he still had plenty of time to find out.
Easy does it, McLean. One step at a time.

“Guess I was right, after all,” he murmured, his hand making lazy circles over her shoulders and back.

“Hmm?” she heard her own voice as if it came from a distance. Had anything in the world felt this good? Ever?

He chuckled, the vibration sending tiny pulses through
her nerve endings. “Appears there
was
a thing or two needed pursuin’ after last night.”