Your Desire (16 page)

“I see,” she agreed, sweeping her hand back and forth across his hip, needing to touch him in the time they had left.

Talking and touching. Sex was intimate, but any more intimate than the closeness that came from sharing bits of themselves in the night? She didn’t think so.

“I’m sleepy. How about you?” she finally whispered.

“Yes.”

In the darkness, she felt rather than saw his smile.

“Are you going to wake me again in another couple of hours? The way we just woke up was very nice.”

She chuckled, and was surprised at the low, sexy sound. “You’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“What do you think?” Soft as cotton, his tongue brushed her lips.

“Well, I’m not one to shirk my duty so you can be sure I’ll be waking you again.” Her tongue traced the outline of his lips and he moaned.

“Right. Best not to take any chances,” he teased.

“But now, sleep is what you want, sir.” Rolling away from him, she was delighted when he reached across her waist and pulled her back against him.

“Not what I want, but what I need,” he admitted. His voice was heavy and within moments she heard the steady, deep breathing that signified slumber.

CHAPTER FOUR

As the coffee pot gurgled and she finished lightly frying the Canadian bacon, Allison thought about the man on the sofa bed in her office. That wonderful man and how he’d made her feel. Last night had been the most fantastic of her life. True, the evening hadn’t started auspiciously, between the horrid dress and everyone’s reaction to it, then finding a man crashed in her pasture. But knowing Frank Hughes made everything else worthwhile.

It had been almost four-thirty when they’d stopped talking, and was only ten-thirty now. She’d slipped out of bed a little before eight, careful not to wake him. Now, lifting the coffee pot to pour the first cup of the morning, she wondered how long she should let him sleep.

A knock at the front door took the decision out of her hands. Putting the cup on the table, she hurried so whoever it was wouldn’t knock again and wake Frank. Two men stood on the porch.

“Ms. Hayes?” The taller and younger of the pair spoke. He gave her a sharp look, making her self-conscious in her simple slacks and sweater. She put a hand to her hair, glad she’d at least pulled it back in a loose braid instead of leaving it free.

“Yes.”

“We’re looking for Nic.”

She frowned.

He frowned back. “I’m sorry. Nic Hughes. That’s his car out there,” he added, pointing generally toward the road.

“Oh! Frank. Yes, he’s here. Come in, please.”

The men entered, the older one with a medical bag. “I’m David Wills. This is Dr. Mark Bowman.” David stared candidly at his surroundings. His casual look belied what she imagined he was really doing: taking in everything, evaluating what he saw then storing it in his memory for later recall.

She regarded him the same way. He was tall, blond, very muscular, maybe late twenties. Except for the taste and cut of his clothes, he would have reminded her of a surf bum—no responsibilities or cares other than catching the next big wave—but she held no illusions. To work closely with Frank, he’d have to be very responsible, bright and savvy.

With his graying hair, clear blue eyes and friendly smile, Dr. Bowman looked the quintessential trusted family doctor. Again, she assumed nothing other than he was top in his field. Frank wouldn’t waste time on anything else.

With a sinking heart she remembered his words about dealing only with perfection or something he could make perfect. Thank heaven he hadn’t seen her, with her plain face and scars. Or watched how she limped. Last night, he’d been attuned to different aspects of her and happiness filled her at the memory of how they’d satisfied each other. If only they’d had more time, but…

“Frank is still asleep.” She turned her attention to the doctor. “It’s nice to meet you, Doctor, after our talk last night. I have the chart from the ER for you. He made it through the night very well, with no discernable problems.” Hoping she wouldn’t blush at how well he’d made it through the night, she forced her most professional attitude forward.

“Wonderful. Thanks.”

“Would you like to wash up? There’s a bath down the hall on the left. I was just getting things ready for breakfast, so coffee’s made if you want some.” Pointing down the hall and flicking her finger left, she looked to see that David understood how to reach the kitchen. “I’ll get Frank up.”

The doctor headed for the bathroom. David turned toward the back of the house and the aroma of brewed coffee, but not until giving her an appraising look.

She took a deep breath, disappointed their magical hours were over. Frank would go back to
Washington
with David and Dr. Bowman, and she’d never see him again. Was that ache the sign of a broken heart? Impossible after less than one day. “Not even magic works that fast,” she murmured.

Tucking away the lover persona and putting on her nurse mask, she stopped outside the office door, knocked, then entered, closing the door behind her. Frank lay on his back, the sheet barely covering his groin. Slightly below that, she saw the outline of his cock lying over his thigh, evidencing a morning erection. She’d never seen his penis, but she knew how it felt and how it tasted. Her panties dampened with the memory, and she wanted more than anything to climb back beside him and take comfort in his arms before they faced the reality of his leaving.

One arm was slung out, where she would have been had she stayed in bed. The other was crooked over his head. He snored lightly, his face roguish with dark bristles covering chin and jaw. His thick black lashes flicked as he dreamed. More than anything in the world, she hated to wake him and let him go.

“Frank?” No response. “
Frank
. Time to wake up.”

“Huh?” It was the slightest murmur. Instead of opening his eyes he rolled onto his side.

She took the few steps needed to reach the bed, and sat on the edge. Shaking his shoulder she said, “Time to wake up. Your friends are here.”

Slowly his lids raised, revealing his remarkable hazel eyes. He blinked. Took a breath, stretched. “Allison?”

“Yes. How do you feel?” Gently, she rubbed her hand over his shoulder, to his neck and the back of his head where she used fingertips to lightly massage his scalp.

“Not bad. My head’s sore there, but my headache is gone.” He captured her hand in his and brought it to his lips. “Why’d you get up? Come back to bed.”

“No time to sleep. The day’s awastin’.”

“Who said anything about sleeping, woman?” His smile was brilliant, his voice husky with desire. She glanced at his groin. The half-erect cock she’d guessed at under the sheet now showed itself to be an impressive length and thickness.

“Oh, you’re tempting me, but your friends are here.”

He came fully awake. “David? Is Mark Bowman with him?” His erection lost its size and he released her hand as he turned to sit.

“Yes. They just arrived. But go slowly and take your time. After you’re dressed, just call out. Dr. Bowman will want to examine you, and he can come in here.”

The change in him was immediate. He returned to the businessman she’d first met in her pasture the previous night.

“Right. I can handle things now. I’ll go to the bathroom and let you know when I’m ready.”

“That’s fine.” The bathroom door opened and she heard Dr. Bowman move past on his way to the kitchen. She stood and looked around the room. “Okay, I’m going to fold the bed away, but your clothes will be laid out on the sofa. I ran all but your slacks through the laundry this morning so your underwear is clean. I gave your slacks a good brushing. I didn’t feel comfortable getting into the car for your suitcase without your knowledge.”

“That’s great. Thanks.” Feeling the wall with his fingertips, he made his way to the door, where he turned toward her. “I really mean that, Allison. Thank you for everything. For last night especially, and I don’t mean the sex.”

Suddenly she wished she could cry. She wanted to let the tears fall and never stop. But she didn’t.

She walked over and moved him aside to open the door. “We’ll be listening for you.”

Shoulders back and head high, showing none of the fear he’d admitted to during the night, Nic moved across the hall and felt his way to the bathroom. Her Frank, the man she’d comforted and made passionate love to, was gone.

Pushing emotion aside, as she had so many times in her life, Allison prepared the room then strode to the kitchen to see about fixing her guests something to eat.

* * * *

After rousing Frank, things progressed remarkably quickly. Dr. Bowman reviewed the chart while they waited for Frank to dress, then joined him in the office. She’d looked forward to asking David a few questions about his employer, but he took a key from his pocket and went out to see if the car could be driven.

Allison got a good look at the little silver Porsche when David parked behind an impressive BMW sedan. With amusement, she noted there was more money parked in her front drive than she made in a year. Except for numerous scratches and a bent fender that David pulled away from the tire, nothing much seemed wrong with the sports car. If not for a bump on the head, Frank would have been able to drive away, perhaps calling later to explain about the fence.

Life was full of ifs. If the deer hadn’t chosen that moment to run into the road, Frank wouldn’t have crashed through her fence at all. If she hadn’t left the reunion early, he might have wandered around and gotten more hurt than he was. If she hadn’t worn that hideous dress, she probably would have stayed longer to help Mary.

Her expression softened. If she hadn’t bought that particular gown, Frank wouldn’t have felt the comfort he had, listening to the sound. The dress suddenly took on a new perspective, and it wasn’t a hideous one at all.

Dr. Bowman came out of the office walking slowly, acting as guide to Frank. Their arms touched, though scarcely, and as he walked toward the front door she had to look hard to see Frank was sightless.

“Do you want something to eat? I’ve started breakfast.”

“Thanks, Ms. Hayes,” Dr, Bowman said politely, “but I’d just as soon get Nic back to his own home as soon as possible. I think he’ll rest better there and I can keep an eye on any changes.”

“Of course,” she murmured.

“David?” Frank stopped when the doctor did.

“Yes, Nic.”

“How’s the car?”

“I’ll get it home. Mark can drive the BMW. You’ll be more comfortable riding in the sedan.”

Frank simply nodded. “What about the fence? People around here take their fences very seriously.” He smiled, an open, generous smile, not particularly directed at her.

David smiled too, watching his boss intently. “I have one of our crews coming out this afternoon.” Turning to Allison, he held out a business card. “The foreman’s name is Stuart Samuels. He’s supposed to check with you so you can give him any specific instructions. Otherwise, they’ll repair the fence line and match their work with whatever’s there. If you have any problems or questions, don’t hesitate to call. My office and cell number are listed on the card.”

“That’s fine, thank you.” She looked at what he’d handed her.
NicHughes Electronics, David Wills.

“Wait a minute.” Eyes wide, she stared at the man she’d spent the night making love with. “Frank, you’re
NicHughes Electronics
?”

The smile faded from Frank’s face. All eyes were on him, although he had no way of knowing.

“Franklin Nicholas Hughes. Nic Hughes is my business name. I explained to you about business things. Later, anyway.” He cleared his throat. “I mean, I didn’t know who you were at first. When we finally talked business, details didn’t seem important.” Turning slightly, he faced her directly, almost as though he could see where she stood. “Is it important?” his tone asked more than the words.

Now all eyes were on her. She understood completely. Nic Hughes was the job. Frank, the man who’d held her heart and soul last night, Frank was the man. “No. It’s not important at all.”

He gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Straightening her shoulders, she took a deep breath then took his hand. “Take care of yourself, Frank. I hope everything turns out very well for you.”

He squeezed her hand. “Thanks. I couldn’t have asked for a better person’s fence to crash through.”

She moved aside. With the railing on one side and the doctor on the other, he made his way down the steps and out of her life.

* * * *

Restless, she moved around the kitchen. The dinner dishes had all been put away, the sink scoured. More coffee had been put on to brew, although she knew she’d had enough already to satisfy her caffeine needs for a week.

She sighed, staring through the back screen door at the sheep walking the wire fence in the lower pasture. Always looking for a way to get someplace new, someplace different than where they were, they searched for where the grass was greener. But they weren’t the brightest animals on earth. Even when he found a hole in the fence, a sheep might not see the opening for what it was. Once passed, the ewe or ram might never find the hole again, and so be stuck forever in one pasture until the farmer and his dog came along. Sheep missed many opportunities for greener grass, new pastures, freedom.

Am I like that?
Had she passed by chances, not recognizing them for what they were? Or, more likely, had she conveniently ignored them, taking the easier path? Unlike most of her friends, she’d stayed home, not chancing life or love. Had she used her parents and even her childhood accident as an excuse not to spread her wings? She’d always thought when she was ready she’d do the things other people talked about, things she’d once thought about with enthusiasm herself. Had she let her chances go by, thinking she’d come back to them later? Like the sheep passing the hole in the fence, perhaps she wouldn’t find those opportunities again.

With a cup of fresh coffee, she walked outside. She wished Frank were here. The tulips and jonquils were still in riotous bloom, the early azaleas were starting the showy stage of display, and the dogwood was magnificent, at its peak of snowy white and bright pink. With pleasure she would have described the scene to him as they walked up the drive, and would have seen the world in a different way while she did so. As it was, as
she
was—alone—her beautiful flower beds and pastureland lost some appeal.

She wished she understood this sudden feeling of discomfort in her own home. The reason couldn’t really be Frank. He hadn’t even been in her life one day—barely a full twelve hours, including time asleep. Yet they were hours enough to dislodge the contentment of a lifetime.

When she reached the end of the drive, she was surprised to see her uncle’s truck parked on the side of the road. He and her cousin, Ned, stood examining the new section of fence. She strolled up to them. “What do you think?”

John turned twinkling brown eyes on her. “Never heard such a ruckus with those air compressor nail guns and paint sprayers. Saw them here when we came home from dinner after church. Must have been twenty men putting your fence back together. What happened, anyways?” He stood tall and lean, wearing a flannel shirt mostly concealed by coveralls her aunt insisted on ironing. Much younger than her father, John’s hair was still white from advancing age, but his eyes showed none of the years his hair color indicated.