“And your husband just let her get away with it?” Derek said in amazement.
“Like I said, Bianca can do no wrong in his eyes. I bet she threw a huge party when she heard I was dead. She couldn’t wait to get rid of me.”
Setting down his wineglass, Derek reached across the table for her hand.
Chloe jumped in surprise when his warm fingers encircled hers. His thumb stroked the center of her palm, sending a blast of lust that settled right between her legs.
“I’m sorry you had to go through all that,” he said. “There are some really rotten people in this world, huh?”
“Yeah,” she stammered, unable to think when he was touching her hand like that.
She stared at their intertwined fingers, the contrast of his darker skin with her pale skin. Then she lifted her head and met his eyes, stunned by the sudden flash of heat she saw there. What would his kiss feel like? Warm and gentle? Teasing? Rough and desperate? She wanted so badly to find out but knew she wouldn’t. Couldn’t, actually. She was in no position to start a relationship. Now that Felix knew she was alive, she would have to run again. Disappear. Leave Derek behind. It wouldn’t be fair to him, to either one of them, if she started something up only to abandon him in the end.
Yet she couldn’t break the eye contact, couldn’t stop herself from imagining how it would feel to lean forward and kiss that sexy mouth of his, run her fingertips over his muscular chest, stroke that strong line of his jaw.
After a second, she cleared her throat, forcing herself to look away. “So…how about some dessert?”
* * *
“Thanks again for cooking,” Derek remarked as he and Chloe stepped onto the porch a while later. He shot her a wry smile. “I think I’m getting spoiled. I can’t remember the last time I cooked for myself. Always too busy.”
Holding her steaming coffee mug, Chloe stood next to him, her hazel eyes focused on the rolling hills in the distance. They both wore their winter coats and gloves, and around her neck Chloe had looped a bright red scarf, which brought out the honey highlights of her hair and the flecks of green around her pupils. Her cheeks were flushed, and for the first time since he’d met her, she seemed genuinely relaxed.
“I don’t know how you do it,” she said softly.
“What, not cook?” he joked.
“No. How you do everything you do. Run your practice, oversee this ranch, raise Piper and Sawyer. Do you ever take time for yourself, Derek?”
Discomfort moved through him. He sank onto one of the wicker chairs on the porch and balanced his mug on his knee. After a moment, Chloe sat beside him.
“Well?” she prompted. “Do you?”
“Sometimes,” he said vaguely.
“Yeah?” Her eyebrows lifted in challenge. “Name one thing you did recently that was only about you, only for you.”
He mulled it over, then offered a smug smile. “I spent all of last Sunday on the couch, wearing sweats and watching football.”
“Really?”
“Yep.”
Her brows rose higher. “The entire day?”
“Well, I may have paid a quick visit to a patient between the afternoon and evening games.”
“Did the patient call you?”
He avoided her eyes. “Yes…fine, no. But she’s having a complicated pregnancy and I was worried.”
She burst out laughing. “See? You’re incapable of being selfish.”
His stomach clenched. “That’s not entirely true.” He raised his mug to his lips and downed some coffee, hoping the distraction would stop him from saying anything more. But after he swallowed and lowered the mug, he couldn’t control his next words from slipping out. “My wife accused me of being selfish on a daily basis.”
Surprise flitted across Chloe’s face. “I find that hard to believe.”
“That she’d accuse me of that?”
“That she’d actually believe it to be true.” A startling note of confidence filled her voice. “I’ve known you less than a month, yet it’s easy to see that you live your life for other people, Derek. You’re devoted to your patients, your family, your friends—even strangers, like me. If your wife truly thought you were selfish, then she didn’t know you at all.”
Her conviction floored him. So did the way she reached out to touch his knee in a reassuring squeeze. It was the first time Chloe had touched him willingly, without hesitation. And the moment she made contact, a rush of desire sizzled through his veins, dampening his palms and quickening his pulse.
Sitting this close to her, he could smell the sweet scent of her hair. His fingers tingled with the urge to stroke those blond strands. To pull her close and kiss her.
“How did your wife die?”
Chloe’s soft-spoken inquiry snuffed out any feelings of desire. Before he could stop them, the memories spiraled to the surface, making his throat tighten.
The red-and-blue lights flashing on the bridge. The splintered wooden railing. The sleek back end of the SUV sticking out of the dark water, wheels up, rear windshield wipers still furiously working away.
The look in the sheriff’s eyes when Derek approached.
The hot streak of agony when he’d peered over the edge of the bridge and witnessed the carnage below.
“Derek?”
Chloe’s grip on his knee tightened. When he found the courage to meet her eyes, he saw nothing but sympathy and sweet understanding in those hazel depths.
“Car accident,” he choked out, clutching his mug so tightly he feared the ceramic might shatter.
“Sawyer mentioned she died two years ago.”
He frowned. When had Sawyer told Chloe that? And why the hell had they even been discussing Tess?
He quickly forced away the irritation. He didn’t like it when people discussed his private life, but he couldn’t fault Sawyer for it. The kid was only eleven years old, too young to realize just how devastated Derek still was about Tess’s death.
“Yes. Two years,” he confirmed.
“That must have been very hard for you, losing your wife.” She hesitated. “Did you love her deeply?”
He nodded. “We were college sweethearts. Met at nineteen, married at twenty.”
“Was she a doctor like you?”
“No, Tess majored in history. She wanted to be a teacher, and she had a job lined up in Philadelphia after we graduated. But then my folks died and we had to move to Eden Falls. There weren’t any open teaching positions at the time, so she ended up staying home and taking care of Sawyer and Piper.” Regret moved through him. “That’s what she meant about me being selfish. I dumped my kid sister and brother on her while I built my medical career, forcing her into motherhood.”
Chloe frowned. “She didn’t want to be a mother?”
“She did, but not a year into our marriage. And not a mother to a six-month-old baby and a four-year-old who weren’t even hers.”
Her frown deepened. “Those two kids had just lost their parents. Please don’t be offended, but I think that’s incredibly selfish on her part. Piper and Sawyer might not have been biologically hers, but in a sense, she was their mother. They were only babies when your folks died. They needed you.”
Emotion lined his throat. Chloe sounded so upset he leaned closer and wrapped one arm around her shoulder. She stiffened for a second, then sagged into the embrace.
“If Felix had brought two motherless babies into our home, I would have welcomed them with open arms,” she murmured.
Yes, he imagined she would have. Her heart was bigger than this damn ranch, and she seemed to possess an innate need to soothe and nurture those around her. Not Tess, though; by the time she’d died, Tess had been too wrapped up in her own head to worry about the people around her.
“Your husband is a fool,”
he heard himself rasp.
Chloe’s breath hitched. “What?”
“He is a fool,” Derek repeated. “For not appreciating what he had. For not seeing what he had.”
Pink splotches stained her cheeks, making her look young and unbelievably appealing. “How can you say that? You barely know me.”
“I know that you’re the best damn nurse I’ve ever worked with. I know that you’re brave as hell.”
Her face collapsed. “I was weak,” she corrected in a wobbly voice.
Setting his mug on the little table between their chairs, Derek brought his hands to her face and cupped her cheeks. To his surprise, she leaned into his touch, rubbing her chin against his palm.
“You were strong,” he said gruffly. “You placed yourself at Felix’s mercy to protect your father. You got stuck in a situation beyond your control but you eventually found a way out of it.”
“Some way out,” she muttered as she put her own mug down. “I’m right back where I started, under Felix’s thumb.”
He remembered the bloodstained dress and his jaw tensed. “He won’t hurt you again, Chloe. I’ll make sure of it.”
Desperation crept into her tone. “I can’t stay at the ranch forever, Derek. I have to make some decisions. Figure out what to do now that he knows I’m alive.”
She was going to run again.
Derek suddenly knew it with a certainty that went bone-deep. She’d agreed to stay with him until she decided her next move, but as he looked into her eyes, he realized she’d always known what that move would be.
His hands dropped from her face. “You’re trying to get a new identity, aren’t you?”
Guilt flickered in her gaze. “I placed a call to my contact this morning. He hasn’t gotten back to me yet.”
“So you’re going to run for the rest of your life? Become different people and try to stay one step ahead of Felix?”
“What else can I do?” She looked as if she was grinding her teeth, her cheeks hollow, jaw taut. “Tell the cops that my husband beat me so I faked my death? I have no proof of the abuse—the case probably wouldn’t even go to trial, and if it did, Felix would kill me before I could take the stand. I can file for divorce, but he’d still come after me eventually. Knowing him, he’d wait a couple of years, make me think I was safe, and then arrange for me to suffer an unfortunate accident.”
She let out a breath. “He’ll try to force me to come home, and when I refuse, he’ll find a way to get rid of me. He won’t be able to leave me alone, Derek. It’ll eat him alive, knowing that I left him, that he couldn’t control me, and so he’ll come after me or my dad. Unless I hide, and do a better job of it this time.”
“Chloe—”
“Maybe working as a nurse again was a bad idea,” she cut in, sounding distressed. “I had enough money to disappear, to live on some island in the Caribbean and spend the rest of my days lying on the beach, but I wanted so badly to be useful again. To help people. Felix ordered me to give up nursing when we got married, and I was so eager to get back into it that I didn’t think it through.”
Anger bubbled in Derek’s gut. Not directed at Chloe, but at her husband for placing her in this position. Making her yet again give up a career she so clearly loved.
“There has to be a better alternative,” he said firmly. “You can’t live the rest of your damn life in hiding, damn it.”
A smile fluttered over her lips. “Two curse words in one sentence—you’re really angry, aren’t you?”
“Damn right I am.” An uncharacteristic burst of rage jolted through him. “Your husband is a tyrant, sweetheart, and someone needs to clock him for the way he treated you. You’re an amazing woman, Chloe. You deserve a helluva lot more than what that bastard—”
She kissed him.
Shock slammed into Derek’s chest as her mouth met his, as her arms came up around his neck and pulled him close. Her lips were cold but the kiss was hotter than he’d ever anticipated. A fleeting brush of mouths, a seductive meeting of tongues. She tasted like coffee and chocolate frosting and something utterly feminine.
Pure desire swirled down his chest and tightened his groin, prompting him to slide his fingers inside her coat and grip her slender waist. Chloe made a whimpering sound as he took control, deepening the kiss, thrusting his tongue in her mouth to explore every sweet, hot crevice. Christ, her mouth felt so good against his. Her tongue eager, her hands even more so as she stroked the nape of his neck before digging her fingers into his shoulders and bringing him even closer.
He was two seconds from yanking her onto his lap and ripping that coat—and everything else—right off her, when his mind finally registered what his foolish mouth and hands were doing.
With a groan, he wrenched his lips free, breathing heavily, unable to meet her eyes.
Crap. What was he doing? He couldn’t kiss this woman.
She kissed you.
The distinction didn’t dim the panic rippling in his muscles. Playing who-kissed-who wouldn’t make a lick of a difference. No matter how much he craved her, he couldn’t get involved with her. Her marital status aside, he was in no frame of mind for a new relationship. Not now, and possibly not ever. The mere thought of opening himself up again, of giving his heart to someone else, turned his mouth to sawdust.
“Oh, God. I’m sorry, Derek.”
Chloe’s contrite voice gave him the courage to meet her eyes. She looked as startled and panicked as he felt, with guilt mingled in there, too.
“I shouldn’t have done that,” she added, her cheeks turning pink again. “I don’t know what came over me.”
He cleared his throat. Tried to erase the memory of how incredible she’d tasted, how soft and pliant her lips had felt against his. “It’s okay.”
“No, it’s not,” she said miserably. “I threw myself at you like a horny teenager, for Pete’s sake.”
Oh, man, did she have to use the word horny? Because that happened to be his current state of being, which he tried to hide by shifting on the chair and praying she didn’t look down at his crotch. He hadn’t been with a woman in two years and that one kiss had set his entire body on fire.
“I’m sorry,” Chloe said again. “I didn’t mean to take advantage of your hospitality. I know that me staying here doesn’t mean that…well, that you and I are going to…you know.”
He banished the stream of wicked images that her words inspired in his mind and forced a casual tone. “You don’t have to apologize. And trust me, if anyone took advantage of anyone just now, it was me. I knew you were upset and not thinking clearly, yet I still—”
“I didn’t kiss you because I was upset,” she interrupted with a frazzled sigh.
He gulped. “No?”
“No.” Her voice grew husky. “I kissed you because I’ve wanted to do that since the day we met.”
Oh, hell. Did she have to look at him like that? With those heavy-lidded eyes and shy expression? It only made him want to kiss her again.
He drew a long breath. “We can’t get involved, Chloe. For so many reasons.”
“I know.” She offered a rueful look. “First and foremost, I’m still married.”
“And I’m still grieving,” he said gruffly.
“We work together.”
“Your life is in danger.”
“So is yours, if Felix suspects we’re together.”
A short silence descended, and then Chloe laughed. “Any other reasons you can think of?”
Derek had to smile. “No, but I’m sure there are a few we’re forgetting.”
“But those are the important ones.” She sounded sad.
“Yeah.”
The next silence was tinged with regret, but Derek knew it was better to derail this train before it hurtled into dangerous territ
ory and they both ended up getting hurt. Chloe must have agreed because she stood abruptly, reaching for their empty mugs.
“I think I’ll head inside. It’s getting chilly out here.” As if to punctuate the remark, her breath left a white cloud in the night air.
Derek rose, too. “Yeah, it is getting cold.”
They were two steps to the door when they heard footsteps crunching on the frost-covered grass. Derek turned to see his brother Tate clamoring up the front walk toward the porch.
An alarm immediately went off in his gut. Tate’s expression was grave, hinting that this visit was more than a social call.
“Hey. I thought you were going back to Philly,” Derek said with a frown.
“I’m heading out soon,” Tate replied. “Just wanted to come by and give you this news in person.” His blue-green eyes shifted to Chloe. “I’m not much for small talk, so I’ll get right to the point.”
She furrowed her brows. “Okay.”
“I made some calls and I’m beginning to believe your suspicions might be warranted,” Tate said grimly. “I think your husband knows you’re alive.”
CHAPTER 7
A shiver of fear snaked up Chloe’s body and settled into a lump at the back of her throat. She swallowed hard, trying to quell the panic bubbling in her belly. Tate’s news didn’t surprise her, but she’d been hoping he’d come here to tell her she was overreacting. That Felix was in Malibu, busy with his surgeries and still mourning his beloved wife.
“Do you know for sure?” Derek asked sharply.
She noticed that Derek had taken a protective step toward her, but he didn’t make a move to take her hand or put his arm around her. She didn’t blame him. After the way she’d thrown herself at him only minutes ago, he was probably loath to touch her again.
She forced the memory of that impulsive kiss from her mind and focused on Tate.