Home to Eden (20 page)

It took him a moment to adjust his thinking. Kate was a responsive lover, but she had never been the one to instigate their lovemaking. She'd always seemed content to let him make the first move. This sudden aggression, mild as it was, surprised him. He curved his fingers around hers, feeling desire stir in the pit of his stomach.

"Not particularly," he said, answering her question. He lifted his free hand to her hair, sliding his fingers into the tawny thickness of it. It felt like silk against his skin and he knew that, when he leaned closer, he'd be able to smell the soft floral scent of her shampoo. He curled his fingers around her nape and drew her forward. She bent toward him pliantly but he hesitated, his eyes searching her face. There was something there. Something he sensed rather than saw.

"What is it?" he asked softly.

Kate closed her eyes against the concern in his. She didn't want him to be kind. She wanted him to take her in his arms and make her forget everything but him. She wanted him to sweep her away with passion so that she could only think of this moment, this man.

"I've missed you," she said and leaned forward to touch her mouth to his.

He seemed to hesitate, as if puzzling over her response. Afraid to let him think, Kate took the hand she still held and set it against the soft swell of her breast. He froze for an instant, his fingers stiff, and she thought she'd only made things worse. But then he groaned softly against her mouth. His hand shifted, molding her breast, and Kate knew that, whatever questions he might have, they were forgotten for the moment.

Gratefully, she opened her mouth to his, leaning into his embrace. But instead of the usual warmth she felt when he held her, she felt an odd restlessness, a sense that something was missing. It hadn't been like this with him. There hadn't been anything comfortable about his kisses. It had been hot and wild and out of control.

Remembered hunger had her shifting restlessly, pressing closer to Gareth. But his touch didn't make her skin bum and his mouth didn't seem to devour her very soul. Panic fluttered in the pit of her stomach. It wasn't fair, she thought despairingly. He was everything she wanted, the kind of man any woman would be grateful to have.

Kate heard his surprised murmur when her fingers began sliding the buttons on his shirt loose. She could make it right again, she thought fiercely. If she tried, she could forget all about him, she told herself as she leaned back on the sofa, pulling him down with her. She could make this enough.

Gareth's pager beeped, a shrill demand for attention.

"Dammit!" He jerked up, fumbling at his belt. He glared at the number displayed. "I'm not on duty tonight."

"It must be urgent," Kate said, struggling to keep the relief from her voice.

"It had better be," he said grimly. He turned and reached for the phone next to the sofa.

Kate took the opportunity to sit up and straighten her clothing. Guiltily, she hoped he'd have to leave. She was shaken by her lack of desire, shaken by the way thoughts of Nick had intruded. This wasn't the way it was supposed to be, she thought. She needed more time, that's all. She wasn't ready for this. She refused to consider the possibility that she might never be ready.

"I've got to go," Gareth said as he hung up the phone.

"What's wrong?" she asked, her relief wavering when she saw his grim expression.

"Nick's been in an accident."

"Nick?" Kate heard her voice, sounding high and thin. "Is he all right?"

"I don't know. But they said he was conscious and arguing with the paramedics. That sounds positive."

"Where is he?"

"At the hospital. They took him to the emergency room." Gareth reached up to peel her fingers from his arm. "You're cutting off the blood supply to my hand," he said, giving her a curious look.

Kate hadn't been aware that she'd grabbed him.

"Sorry." She let her hand drop into her lap, knowing she'd overreacted. As far as Gareth knew, she barely knew his brother. Struggling to keep the appropriate level of concern in her voice, she asked, "Was he...wearing his helmet?"

"God, I hope so." Gareth stood up. "I'llcall and let you know how he is."

"I'm going with you," Kate said without thinking. She caught his surprised look but he didn't argue, for which she was grateful, because her powers of invention had run out. She couldn't even come up with a good explanation for herself as to why she so desperately needed to know that Nick was all right. It was certainly beyond her to explain it to him.

There were half a dozen people in the waiting room. A tired-looking woman rocked a fussy toddler, and a middle-aged man stared stoically at the wall, one hand wrapped in a bloodstained rag. Two frightened teenagers had their heads together, talking in low tones. The boy had his arm around the girl, who looked as if she might start crying at any moment. The last occupant was a sweet-faced, elderly woman who sat in a comer, knitting an unidentifiable garment in chocolate-colored yam. The color made Kate think of Nick's eyes.

"Hey, Gareth." The nurse at the desk smiled when she saw them approaching. "I suppose you're here to spring Nick loose."

"Is he springable?" Gareth asked.

"Should be in a few minutes. The doctor wanted to keep him overnight in case he has a concussion, but Nick said they'd have to strap him to the bed."

"Sounds like he's in pretty good shape," Gareth said, his relief obvious.

"Not too bad. You can go on back and see for yourself." She nodded over her shoulder. "He's in the third cubicle."

"Did anyone call my parents?"

"I don't know." The phone on the desk rang and she excused herself to answer it

"I should call my parents and let them know what's happened before they get a garbled report from somebody else," Gareth said to Kate. "Why don't you go on back and I'll be there in a second."

He turned away without giving her a chance to argue. Not that she could have argued, Kate thought, watching him walk toward a bank of pay phones. After insisting on coming to the hospital to see how Nick was, she could hardly announce that she didn't want to actually see him.

Reluctantly, she walked past the desk. The curtains were drawn around the cubicle the nurse had indicated. She hesitated a moment before drawing a deep breath and stepping through them. He was Gareth's brother, she reminded herself. That was the only reason she was here.

As soon as she saw Nick, she knew she lied. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, half turned away from her, bare to the waist. Angry-looking friction burns ran down one shoulder, as if he'd slid across the pavement. His left arm was in a sling and the left leg of his jeans was split open to just past the knee, revealing the stark white of a bandage wrapped around his calf.

Though she hadn't made a sound, he must have sensed her presence because he turned abruptly. She saw his eyes widen in surprise and dropped her gaze. But that wasn't such a good idea, she decided, when she found herself staring at the mat of dark curls that covered his chest before tapering into a narrow line that sliced across the taut muscles of his stomach and disappeared into the waistband of his jeans—his unbuttoned jeans, she noticed before jerking her gaze upward.

Their eyes met and she felt her mouth go dry at the look in his. The hunger was blatant and painfully familiar. Her stomach clenched with it, her skin tingled with it. She stared at him helplessly for a moment and then forced herself to look away, aware that her eyes had already revealed far too much.

"Kate."

Before Nick could say anything else, the curtain rattled to announce Gareth's arrival.

"They tell me you're going to live," he said, by way of greeting.

"So they said." Nick's answer was slow. He dragged his eyes from Kate's profile and looked at his brother. The concern behind Gareth's smile grated on his conscience like fingernails on a chalkboard. "They shouldn't have called you. It was a minor accident."

"According to the officer on the scene, you were damned lucky. He says your bike looks like a pretzel."

"I saw it before the damned paramedics stuffed me in an ambulance." Nick slid off the bed, wincing as he put weight on his injured leg.

"What happened?" Gareth asked.

"Are you asking as my brother or as a police officer?" Nick asked dryly.

"Both. There wasn't another vehicle on the scene."

"It left the scene," Nick said. He looked around until he saw his shirt thrown over the back of a chair.

"A hit-and-run?" Gareth asked sharply.

"You could say that." Nick limped to the chair and pulled his shirt free, grimacing at its tattered condition. He glanced at Gareth and started to shrug but changed his mind at the warning twinges of pain. "I swerved to avoid a dog," he admitted. "Damn near killed myself, and the ungrateful beast ran off without even saying thanks."

"I'll put out an APB," Gareth promised, grinning. He came forward and took the shirt from Nick. He started to help him into it but the garment was little better than a rag. What the pavement hadn't demolished, the doctors had. He dropped it on the chair. "Mom and Dad are on their way over."

"Oh, hell." Disgusted, Nick limped to the bed and leaned against it, resting his aching leg. "Is the whole damned town going to show up? Who the hell called them?"

"I did," Gareth said calmly, ignoring his brother's glare. "I thought it would be better if they heard the truth from me, rather than get some garbled report through the grapevine. You know there are no secrets in a small town."

Nick's eyes cut past him to Kate, who was staring at a poster advocating the importance of childhood vaccinations as if her life depended on memorizing every word on it.

"I suppose you're right," he said slowly.

Before Gareth could say anything more, his beeper went off.

"Damn this thing!" he exclaimed, snatching it off his belt. "I'm supposed to be off duty. If this isn't a riot alert, I'm going to have somebody's badge."

He pushed through the curtains and Kate was suddenly alone with Nick. Not a good thing, she thought. She cleared her throat. "I'll go watch for your parents," she said without looking at him.

"My mother has worked out of this hospital for almost thirty years. I think she can find her way around."

"But she won't know where you are."

"Afraid to be alone with me?"

Though she hadn't heard him move, his voice came from directly behind her. Against her better judgment, Kate turned, sucking in a quick, startled breath when she saw how close he was. The muscular width of his chest filled her vision. When she breathed in, she could smell him—a combination of sweat, blood and antiseptic.

Though she knew it was a mistake, she couldn't stop herself from looking up. There was an angry red scrape across the top of his left cheekbone, and his hair fell in a thick, tangled black wave onto his forehead. He looked battered, tired and fiercely masculine.

Reluctantly, she met his eyes and felt her heart thud painfully hard against her breastbone at the hunger he didn't even try to hide. Deep inside, an answering hunger stirred. It pooled, hot and urgent, in the pit of her stomach. If she leaned forward just a little—

She caught herself, appalled by how quickly she'd forgotten all her promises to herself. What was it about him that he could so easily make her forget right and wrong and think only of how it felt when he touched her? Breathing quickly, as if with exertion, she took a quick step back and then gasped when Nick's hand shot out and closed around her upper arm.

"You can't keep pretending there's nothing between us, Kate."

"Yes, I can. I mean, there isn't anything between us," she corrected hastily. "It was a mistake."

"All of it?" He seemed to loom over her. Kate felt breathless, as if there was too little oxygen. "It's not just what happened two weeks ago, Kate. What about the kiss in the gazebo? And five years ago? Are you just going to pretend that none of that happened?"

"Y-yes." She lifted her hands to push him away but let them fall before they came into contact with his bare chest. She was afraid to put her hands on him, she admitted to herself.

"You're going to marry my brother, knowing what's between us?" Anger simmered in the question, and when she looked into his eyes, she saw it reflected there. He held her arm with bruising force but she barely registered the pain. She felt overwhelmed by him, pulled by the force of his will. For a moment, she nearly gave in to his demand, nearly admitted...

Admitted what? the small voice of sanity demanded. That she wanted him? So what? Hunger was a fleeting, ephemeral thing. And when it was gone, it left nothing but emptiness behind. She'd seen it often enough as a child. Her father's hunger had been for new places, new opportunities, and he'd spent his whole life following that hunger, dragging his family all over the country in search of some mythical dream. She wasn't going to be like that. What she had with Gareth was good and lasting. She wasn't giving it up to satisfy a few fleeting moments of desire.

She ruthlessly squashed the voice of doubt.

"There isn't anything between us," she said. The words weren't as certain as she would have liked but they were enough to make Nick's eyes flash with rage.