Irresistible (23 page)

“She said you were her daddy.”

“I am by every definition but biology.” He touched her cheek. “Although I should have talked to you first.”

She looked dazed. “No, this is fine. You really love me? This isn’t the painkiller talking?”

He kissed her, careful to be gentle against her bruises. “I love you, Elissa. I’ve been locked up tight for so long, I barely remember what it’s like to live, but I want to learn again. I want to be with you in every sense of the word. I don’t know if this is right for you or just scary. I don’t know anything except you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met and that I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

She blinked several times. “You love me and you want to marry me?”

“Absolutely.”

“Okay.”

He looked at her. “Okay?”

She grinned. “Okay.”

“So you love me, too?”

She sighed. “You’re not too bad. Decent in bed, handy around the house. Sure, you’ll do.”

He growled. “I was hoping for more.”

She leaned back against the pillows and closed her eyes. “I knew you were special from the first moment I figured out you were too surly to be a serial killer.”

This had to be the drugs talking, he thought. “Excuse me?”

“Serial killers. Everyone always says how nice they are. You’re not especially nice. You have a temper, you can be distant. But I’ve seen how you look at Zoe and I know you’d take on the world to protect her.”

That was true. “And you.”

She sighed. “And me. You make my heart beat faster, just by walking into the room. You’re sweet and tender and funny and I wanted to die when I saw you kiss that bitch.”

“What—oh, Naomi. Elissa, it wasn’t like that.”

“Did you or did you not see her naked?”

He swallowed. “Did I mention I love you?”

“Uh-huh. Which is why I’m letting it go.”

“Do you want to marry me?” he asked.

She snuggled into her pillows and he knew she was fading fast. “Uh-huh.”

“Maybe have a few more kids together?”

She held up two fingers.

He guessed that was a yes and knew he would never know why he’d gotten so damn lucky. “I’ll let you get some sleep.”

“Don’t go,” she said, opening her eyes and looking at him. “Don’t ever go, Walker.”

So he settled on the narrow mattress next to her and she cuddled in close.

“I love you,” she whispered. “I have to go stay with my parents for a few days, but then we’ll be together. Okay? You won’t go anywhere?”

“Not without you. Not ever.”

“That sounds nice. Let’s always be in love,” she said.

“Of course.”

And they were.

Turn the page for a look at Susan Mallery’s
next
BUCHANAN FAMILY
romance
SIZZLING
coming from HQN Books in 2007

U
NTIL SIX FORTY
-
FIVE ON THAT
Thursday morning, women had always loved Reid Buchanan.

They’d started leaving notes in his locker long before he’d figured out the opposite sex could be anything but annoying. During his sophomore year of high school, his hormones had kicked in and he’d become aware of all the possibilities. Over spring break of that year, Misty O’Connell, a senior, had seduced him in her parents’ basement on a rainy Seattle afternoon, during an MTV Real World marathon.

He’d adored women from that moment on and they had returned the affection. Until today, when he casually turned the page in the morning paper and saw his picture next to an article with the headline: Fame, Absolutely. Fortune, You Bet. But Good in Bed? Not So Much.

Reid nearly spit out his coffee as he jerked to his feet and stared at the page. He blinked, then rubbed his eyes and read the headline again.

Not good in bed?
Not good in bed?

“She’s crazy,” he muttered, knowing the author had to be a woman he’d obviously dated and dumped. This was about revenge. About getting back at him and humiliating him in public. Because he
was
good in bed, dammit. Better than good.

He made women scream on a regular basis. They clawed his back—he had the scars to prove it. They stole into his hotel room at night when he was on the road, they begged, they followed him home and offered him anything if he would just sleep with them again.

He was better than good—he was a god!

He was also completely and totally screwed, he thought as he sank back into his chair and scanned the article. Sure enough, the author had gone out with him. It had been one night of what she described as nearly charming conversation, almost funny stories from his past and a so-so couple of hours naked. It was all couched in “don’t sue me” language. Things like “Just one reporter’s opinion” and “Maybe it’s just me, but…”

He studied the name of the reporter, but it meant nothing. Not even a whisper of a memory. There wasn’t a picture, so he grabbed his laptop and went online to the paper’s Web site. Under the bio section he found a photo.

He studied the average-looking brunette and had a vague recollection of something. Okay, yeah, so maybe he’d slept with her, but just because he couldn’t remember what had happened didn’t mean it hadn’t been incredible.

But along with the fuzzy memories was the idea that he’d gone out with her during the playoffs, when his former team had been fighting for a chance to make the World Series and he’d been back in Seattle, in his first year of retirement. He’d been bitter and angry about being out of the game. He might have been drunk.

“I was thinking about baseball instead of her. So sue me,” he muttered as he read the article again.

Deep, soul-shriveling embarrassment chilled him. Instead of calling him a bastard to all of her friends, this woman had chosen to humiliate him in public. How the hell was he supposed to fight back? In the courts? He’d been around long enough to know he didn’t have a case, and even if he did, how was he supposed to win? Parade a bunch of women around who would swear he made the earth move just by kissing them?

While he kind of liked that idea, he knew it wouldn’t make a difference. He’d been a famous baseball player once, and there was nothing the public liked more than to see the mighty fall.

His friends would read this. His family would read this. Everyone he knew in Seattle would read it. He could only imagine what would happen when he walked into the Downtown Sports Bar today.

At least it was local, he thought grimly. Contained. He wouldn’t have to deal with hearing from his old baseball buddies.

The phone rang. He grabbed it.

“Hello?”

“Mr. Buchanan? Reid? Hi. I’m a producer here at
Access Hollywood.
I was wondering if you’d like to make a comment on the article in the Seattle paper this morning. The one about—”

“I know what it’s about,” he growled.

“Oh, good.” The young woman on the other end of the phone giggled. “How about an interview? I could have a crew there this morning. I’m sure you want to tell your side of things.”

He hung up and swore.
Access Hollywood?
Already?

The phone rang again. He pulled the plug and thought about throwing it against the wall, but the damn phone wasn’t responsible for this disaster.

His cell rang. He hesitated before picking it up. The caller ID showed a familiar number. A friend from Atlanta. He exhaled with relief. Okay, this call he could take.

“Hey, Tommy. How’s it going?”

“Reid, buddy. Have you seen it? The article? It’s everywhere. Total bummer. And for the record, dude, too much information.”

I
F
L
ORI
J
OHNSTON HAD BELIEVED
in reincarnation, she would have guessed she’d been a general, or some other kind of tactical expert in one of her past lives. There was nothing she liked more than taking a few unrelated elements, mixing them together and creating the perfect solution to a problem.

This morning she had to deal with hospital equipment arriving the day
after
it was supposed to and a catering service delivery with every single entrée wrong. In her free time, she had her new patient to meet and safely deliver home, assuming the ambulance driver wasn’t late. Where other people would be screaming and threatening, Lori felt only energized. She would meet this challenge as she met all others and she would be victorious.

The delivery men finished assembling the state-of-the-art hospital bed and stepped back for her inspection. She stretched out on the mattress to check for bumps and low spots. What might just be annoying to someone healthy could be impossible to endure when one had a broken hip.

When the mattress passed inspection, she worked the controls.

“There’s a squeak when I raise the bed,” she said. “Can you fix that?”

The men shared an exasperated glance, but she didn’t care. Trying to get comfortable while in pain was bad enough, but an annoying noise could make things worse.

She checked out the table on wheels, and it was fine, as was the wheelchair and the walker.

While they dealt with the squeak, Lori hurried into the massive kitchen where the catering staff sorted through the meals they’d brought.

“The chili?” a woman in a white uniform asked.

“Has to go.” Lori pointed to the list she’d posted on the refrigerator. “This is a woman who is in her seventies. She’s had a heart attack and surgery on a broken hip. She’s on medication. I said tasty, but not spicy. We want to encourage her to eat, but she may still have stomach issues from all the medication. She doesn’t need to lose weight, so that’s not a problem. Healthy, tempting dishes. Not chili, not sushi, nothing fancy.”

She’d been so specific on the phone, too, she thought with minor exasperation.

“You could beat them. That would get their attention.”

That voice. Lori didn’t have to turn around to know who was standing in the doorway of the kitchen. Amused, no doubt, because, God forbid, he should have an actual meaningful thought or do something constructive.

She braced herself for the impact of the dark, knowing eyes, the handsome-but-just-shy-of-too-handsome face, and the casual slouch that should have annoyed the heck out of her, but instead made her want to melt like a twelve-year-old at a Jesse McCartney concert.

Reid Buchanan was everything she disliked in a man. He’d always had it easy so nothing had value. Women threw themselves at him. He’d had a brilliant career playing baseball, although she’d never followed sports and didn’t know any details. And, he’d never once in his entire life bothered with a woman as ordinary as her.

“Don’t you have something better to do than just show up and annoy me?” she asked as she turned toward him.

The impact of his physical presence was immediate. She found it difficult to breathe, let alone think.

“Annoying you is an unexpected bonus,” he said, “but not the reason why I’m here. My grandmother’s coming home today.”

“I know that. I arranged it.”

“I thought I’d stop by to visit her.”

“I’m sure knowing you stopped by four hours before she was due home will brighten her day so much that the healing process will be cut in half.”

She pushed past him, ignoring the quick brush of her arm against his and the humiliating burst of heat that ignited inside of her. She was pathetic. No, she was worse than pathetic—one day she would grow enough to achieve pathetic and that would be a victory.

“She won’t be here until this afternoon?” he asked as he followed her back into the library.

“Unfortunately, no. But it was thrilling to see you. So sorry you can’t stay.”

He leaned against the door frame in this room. He did that a lot. He must know how good he looked doing it, Lori thought grimly. No doubt he practiced at home.

She knew Reid was shallow and selfish and only interested in women as perfect as himself, so why was she attracted to him? She was intelligent. She should know better. And she did…in her head. It was the rest of her that was the problem. She was a total and complete cliché—a smart, average woman pining after the unobtainable. The bookstores probably contained an entire shelf of self-help books dedicated to her condition. If she believed in self-help books, she’d go get herself healed.

As it was, she was stuck with enduring.

“Don’t you have to go away?” she asked.

“For now, but I’ll be back.”

“I’ll count the hours.”

“You do that.” He stayed where he was, apparently unmovable.

“What?” she asked. “Are we waiting for something?”

He smiled, a slow, sexy smile that caused her heart to actually skip a beat. It was a new low.

“You don’t read the paper, do you?” he asked.

“No. I go running in the morning and I listen to music.”

The smile brightened. “Good. I’ll see you later.”

“You could wait until the evening nurse shows up and visit then. Wouldn’t that be a great plan?”

“But then you’d miss me. Snarling at me is the best part of your day. Bye, Lori.”

And then he was gone.