Passion's Dream (The Doms of Passion Lake Book 1) (22 page)

Dr. Sam Norton just nodded.  “Okay.  I can tell you that your uncle had a coronary that required arterial bypass surgery.  Five of his veins were blocked with a build-up of what we call plaque.  It’s composed of fat, protein, cellular waste, cholesterol, and a bunch of other stuff, none of it good.  So, in CABG surgery, they take five new veins, either from the patient’s arm, thigh, or the chest cavity itself and graft those into place alongside the blocked ones so the blood now flows through the new veins and bypasses the blocked ones.  Your uncle’s surgery took nearly seven hours and it looks like his surgical team did a damn fine job.  I’ll know more when I can see an X-ray.  By tomorrow he should be sitting up, and by Tuesday or Wednesday, he should be walking.  He’ll most likely be discharged by the end of the week.”

Leah’s relief was so overwhelming, she burst into a fresh spate of tears. 
Damn it!  How can I possibly still have any tears left?  How much water can one person hold?

At that moment there was a slight
thunk
as Simon released the brakes and began rolling back from the terminal. 

Sam Norton smiled.  “I do believe that’s our signal to buckle ourselves in.”  Seeing her anxious glance toward the still figure in the bed, he added, “He’ll be fine.  C’mon, let’s go back out into the cabin and take our seats.”  He led her to two chairs facing each other, taking the one that had him facing the rear of the plane.

Daniel Rayburn was not aboard.  He had reluctantly decided to stay behind to run the gallery, but only as long as Leah promised to call him twice a day to give him an update on Everett’s condition.

As the plane rolled backwards, Clay saw Daniel standing forlornly on the apron, exactly where they’d left him, watching them depart.  Clay touched his forehead in a salute.  Daniel nodded, then turned and walked back into the terminal as the jet taxied down to the end of the runway, made its turn, and took off.

It was nearly dusk when they landed at Passion Lake Airfield.  An ambulance was waiting for them on the tarmac, along with all the hands from Nighthorse Ranch, plus Caleb Rafferty and his and Simon’s brother Ash, the third Rafferty triplet.  Seeing them standing together made Leah think there was something wrong with her vision.  They were exactly alike, so much so that she wondered how their mother had told them apart.

There was also another man there, a very large man wearing black cargoes, cowboy boots, a black Stetson pulled low over his eyes, and a black polo shirt with an embroidered logo over his left breast that said
Marshall’s Creek PD
in gold thread.
 
He stood slightly apart, hands thrust into the pockets of his cargoes.  At first glance, he appeared to be observing, yet everything about him said unmistakably that he was running this particular show.  The air of power and authority he exuded was palpable, a veritable aura of quiet command.  Leah had thought Clay was an alpha male, but this man out-alpha’d even Clay.  He was a man accustomed to issuing orders and having them obeyed.  He wasn’t hard on the eyes, either, with his raw sex appeal, short black hair, black eyes, a hawk’s beak of a nose and the same slashing cheekbones and Native American features as Clay.  He was, in a word, gorgeous.  And sexy as hell.

While Leah watched, Caleb Rafferty approached the man, listening with his head down as the unknown man said something.  Then Caleb nodded and walked away to relay the man’s message to his brothers.  While the EMT’s were busy loading Everett Burke into the ambulance, the large man approached Clay and Leah, a broad, devastatingly sexy smile on his face.

“Raven.”  He reached out his hand.

“Ranger.”  Clay shook it, then pulled Leah closer.  She sank against his side, seeking his warmth.  “Leah, this is Jesse Colter, my former commanding officer, and now the Police Chief of Marshall’s Creek, which is just down the road.  Jesse, this is Dr. Leah Stanhope.”

Jesse Colter took her hand, swallowing it up in his large one before lifting it to his lips to kiss the back of it.  “Pleased to meet you, Dr. Stanhope.”

“Leah.  Please.”

“I just wanted to let you know that Raven and I have set up shifts for my deputies and some of our buddies to keep watch over your uncle as long as he’s in the hospital.  He’ll be completely safe.  Richard Gordon will never get within thirty feet of him.”

“Is all this really necessary?”  She waved her hand to indicate all the activity.  “No one knows where we are, not even Daniel Rayburn, my uncle’s partner.  Clay wouldn’t tell him.  And even if he
did
know, he would never tell anybody, least of all Richard.”

“It’s just a precautionary measure, Leah,” Jesse assured her.  “Only until he’s well enough to be discharged and moved to the ranch.”

“C’mon, Leah,” Clay said, “Everett’s in good hands.  Let’s get out of the way and let these people do their jobs.”

“Oh, but, I can’t leave him alone.  I’m going with him.”

“He’s not going to be alone, baby.  Sam will be with him.  He’s in good hands, love, there’s nothing you can do for him.”

“Raven’s right,” Sam Norton said, striding toward them.  “I just came over to say good night and to reassure you that your uncle is going to be fine.  The best thing you can do for him is to go home, eat a good, hot, nourishing meal, and get a good night’s sleep so that when he wakes up in the morning, he’ll see your smiling, carefree face, and not the drawn, anxious one you’re wearing tonight.”

She attempted a smile.  “That bad, huh?”

He smiled back.  “Go home and let your man make love to you, as an affirmation of life.  Heart attacks don’t just happen to the patient, they happen to everyone who loves them, and it’s right and proper to do things that celebrate the fact that they are still alive.”

Wow. 
She looked up at him.  “You know what?” she said, her throat thick with unshed tears.  “I really, really like you, Dr. Sam Norton.”  Without stopping to think about it, she threw her arms around his waist and gave him a swift, hard hug.  “Thank you,” she murmured.  “For everything.”

“My pleasure, little one,” he said, answering her hug with one of his own.  “Now, go home, eat, make love, and sleep well.  I will see you in the morning.”  He released her.

“I’ll be right back, baby,” Clay said as he and Sam strode over to the waiting ambulance.  Doctor Norton climbed up into the back with Everett Burke and one of the EMT’s.  He leaned back out far enough to shake hands with Clay before disappearing into the gloomy interior.  Clay then closed the door and slapped it with his palm.  The ambulance rolled silently away.  Clay shook hands with Caleb, Ash, and Simon Rafferty, then turned back to Leah, who had been joined by his ranch hands.  Within moments the tarmac had been cleared of all vehicles except the BMW and two pick-up trucks belonging to Nighthorse Ranch.  The Rafferty triplets were all inside the airplane, prepping it for its next flight.

Clay sauntered over to Leah and his ranch hands.  “Thanks, guys, for coming out to meet us.  Let’s get on home.  I’m starving.”  He, Leah, and Mark Austin walked toward the BMW, while the others headed for the two pick-up trucks.  The trucks peeled out with a squeal of tires that left the acrid odor of burning rubber floating in the air.  Hoots and hollers drifted back toward them through the open windows of the trucks, including a very respectable Tarzan yell.

Clay and Leah just laughed and got into the back seat of the BMW.  She spent the entire ride home illegally sitting in his lap, being kissed senseless.  By the time they arrived back at the ranch, she was a throbbing mass of raging hormones, unable to construct a simple sentence.

After thanking Mark and saying good night, Clay carried her into the kitchen and set her on one of the padded stools at the breakfast bar.  She watched as he took a casserole out of the freezer and put it in the microwave.  He took a few slices of garlic bread and put them under the broiler.  Within minutes there was a bowl of piping hot beef stew and two slices of garlic bread in front of her.  She hadn’t thought she’d be able to eat a bite, but the savory aroma of the stew was irresistible and as she began eating, she realized she was ravenous and wound up eating two bowls full plus a third slice of bread.

“Good girl,” Clay said as she pushed her plate away with a groan.  Chuckling, he rinsed them off and put them in the dishwasher.  Clean-up accomplished, he led her into the family room, where a seventy-inch flat screen TV dominated a combination bookcase/entertainment center that filled an entire wall from floor to ceiling.  The room was big enough to include a bar and a pool table at the far end.  He led her over to an oversized leather sofa and lay down on his right side, scooting himself against the back cushions, resting his head on the cushioned arm.  He patted the seat and Leah lay on
her
right side in front of him.  Draping his arm over her waist, he snugged her against his body, picked up the remote, and clicked to an on-demand channel before handing it to her.  “Just click this button and stop when you see a movie you’d like to watch.  Then press the “Order” button.”

She scrolled through around a dozen channels before finally settling on
What’s Up, Doc?
, with Barbra Streisand and Ryan O’Neill, director Peter Bogdanovich’s homage to the screwball comedies of the nineteen thirties.  And.  It.  Was.  Funny.  Clay and Leah laughed through the entire movie at the witty dialogue and the improbable antics on the screen.  When it was finished, they just remained where they were, not doing anything except lying there.

Then she turned around to face him, fitting the front of her body to the front of his, groin to groin, her hands clinging to his shoulders.  He hooked his left leg over both of hers making the contact between them even more intimate, and traced the line of her jaw with his finger.  Just looking at her made him feel primal and predatory and thoroughly male.  Even with her eyes still red and swollen from all the crying she’d done that day and those deep blue circles underneath them, she was beautiful.

“You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known,” he said, on a note of wonder.

She snorted.  ‘I look like a hag and you know it.”

“You don’t,” he insisted. “You’re beautiful and right now I want to make love to you more than I want to breathe.”

Her eyes darkened and a flush spread across her cheeks.  “I want that, too.”

“So.  I am going to take you upstairs,” he placed his fingertip against the seam of her lips, rubbing it back and forth.  “And I am going to take your clothes off one piece at a time.  And I am going to take my time, worshiping every inch of creamy, silken skin that I uncover.  And I am going to make slow, sweet love to you.”

Locking her gaze to his, she stuck out the tip of her tongue and licked his finger, then sucked it into her mouth.

His eyes became glowing, black coals.  “Then I am going to fuck you.”

She began sucking, palpating his finger with her tongue.

He let out a groan.

Feeling his cock harden against her mound, she released his finger with a moist little pop and licked her lips in a gesture that could only be described as lascivious.

“Then I am going to make love to you again.”  His voice rasped across her nerve endings.  “And fuck you again until you know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you belong to me.”

His words shimmered over her, filled with raw, carnal magic.  He was a sorcerer, getting her to do things she’d never done before, each word pulling her deeper under his spell until all she wanted to do was belong to him.  And she wanted that with every fiber of her being.

“C’mon, love” he murmured, nudging her with his knee.  “Let’s take this upstairs.”

She sat up awkwardly, first elbowing herself up onto her hands, then twisting her hips and swinging her legs over the side of the couch.  She stood and waited as he, too, got up and stood in front of her, looming over her.  Framing her face with both his hands, he lifted her head for another toe-curling kiss.  Unable to move, barely able to breathe, she just stood there, mesmerized by the sight of that gorgeous mouth descending toward hers.  She licked her lips, a tiny, nervous gesture, the breath sawing in and out of her lungs.  She needed this, needed his mouth, his lips, his tongue moving on hers, taking what he wanted.  The heat from his kiss liquefied her insides, sending hot cream in a cascade down her thighs.  The heat from his touch enveloped her and she felt herself swaying toward him, wanting more, needing more. “Clay—”It was little more than a strangled whisper, dragged from the depths of her throat.

But it galvanized him into action.  Without taking his lips from hers, he bent to put one arm beneath her knees, the other behind her back, lifting her up against his chest. Bouncing her slightly to stabilize his hold, he walked out of the living room and up the stairs.  When they got to the bedroom, he set her on her feet, moving his hands to both sides of her head, threading his long, lean fingers through her copper-blond hair.  He drew a deep, shuddering breath.  Then he rested his forehead against hers, trapping her sea-glass green gaze in his black one.

“I meant what I said downstairs, Leah.  This is not a scene.  I am not your Dom right now.  I am just a man making love to a woman.  A man who wants to spend the rest of his life making love to you.  Because I love you, Dr. Leah Stanhope.  That’s something I’ve never said to anyone before in my entire life.  I love you.”  His gaze fell to her mouth, then lifted back up.  “I think I’ve loved you since our encounter on the beach three years ago.  You did something to me that day.  You reached inside and pulled out my heart and you’ve been holding it for safekeeping ever since.  And if you’re honest with yourself, you’ll admit that I’ve been holding your heart for safekeeping as well.  I want you in my life.  Not just for the days or weeks or months it takes to eliminate Richard Gordon’s threat to you.  Permanently.  I want you to move to Passion Lake and create beautiful things to sell in your very own gallery.  I want you to grow old with me, watching our children and grandchildren playing in the yard.  I’m saying this at the risk of losing you entirely, but I’m asking you to marry me, Leah.  I want you to be my wife, my partner, my equal, my submissive.”