Her Mr. Right? Read online

Page 6


  That had been about five years ago. Sometimes his mother’s memory was more detailed than his. He’d once heard that if there was a lot of feeling attached to memories, they lasted longer. Holding up the brochures, he went to the bed and pulled a second chair over beside his mother. “Okay, Mom. I know Isobel’s time is limited. Let me tell you why I think you should go to Pine Ridge this time around. Then you can tell me how you feel about it.”

  Isobel gave him an approving nod. They’d talked more than once about letting their parents make as many decisions as they could themselves to give them control over their lives.

  He handed his mother the two brochures and while she examined them, he asked Isobel in a low voice, “How did your meeting with Kane go?”

  Isobel looked disconcerted for a minute, maybe even a little guilty, but then she replied, “It went all right. But we were interrupted again. My sister needed me and I had to leave.”

  “I’m sorry. Anything serious?”

  “No. Chad’s bus broke down on the way home from the game and she needed me to babysit while she went to get him.”

  “So when do you talk to Kane again?”

  “I’m not sure. Maybe at the end of the week. He said he has interviews lined up back-to-back for the next few days.”

  West frowned. “Yeah, I know. I’m one of them. Is he tough?”

  “I don’t know if tough’s the word. But his questions are pointed. And he doesn’t like it when his interviewee hedges.”

  “That’s what you tried to do?”

  “Tried is the operative word,” Isobel said with a small smile. “I’m sure we all feel a little defensive, but he cuts right through that.”

  From the bed, Florence pointed to the one brochure. “I like the one with the blue rooms and the dining room where everyone eats together.”

  West smiled. “That’s Pine Ridge and that’s my choice, too.”

  Somehow this was all going to work out. Then he could stop worrying about his mother and the rest of her golden years.

  “Wait up,” a now-familiar male voice called from the fourth-floor landing as Isobel hurried down the stairs. For the past few days she’d used the staircase at the back of the hospital, having decided the exercise would be much better for her.

  Apparently Neil used the stairs, too. She waited halfway down the flight as he joined her. “Are the elevators too slow for you?” he asked with a smile.

  “And sometimes too crowded. I was thinking about everything else I had to do this afternoon and didn’t want to get caught up in a conversation.”

  When he frowned, she said quickly, “I didn’t mean I don’t want to talk to you.”

  “If you need to think, we can take the rest of the steps in companionable silence,” he joked.

  If he was walking beside her, she wouldn’t be able to think.

  “Thanks again for bringing my dad over to my sister’s and buying the pizza.”

  “Your father’s an interesting man. I enjoy talking with him.”

  She cocked her head. “What does your dad do?”

  After a moment’s hesitation, he answered her. “My father’s a judge.”

  A judge who didn’t get along with his son? “How long has he been a judge?” she asked, curious to know more about Neil’s background.

  “Since I was a teenager.”

  “Was that tough?”

  Neil’s expression, open and friendly before, was now closed and guarded. “I’d rather not talk about my father.”

  “I’m sorry. I just thought since we were talking about mine—” She didn’t know where to go from there and now she felt awkward. “Never mind.” She turned away from Neil and started down the stairs again.

  But he caught her arm and was beside her before she could take another breath. “I told you, I’m not close to my family like you are to yours. Talking about the reasons why doesn’t change anything.”

  She could tell him that talking might give him another perspective. She could tell him that talking with his family might even be better.

  “I can hear the wheels turning,” he said seriously. “I know in your professional position, you’re good at mediation and counseling. But I don’t want any counsel. And mediation isn’t something my father would ever consider. So let’s drop it.”

  “Sure,” she murmured feeling unreasonably hurt.

  She had no right to feel hurt. Neil Kane was nothing to her. They’d shared a few conversations. They’d enjoyed an evening with her family. But they weren’t involved and probably never would be. If Neil was guarded in this area, he was probably guarded in others. He was probably wounded from his divorce. He probably didn’t feel attracted to her at all, not the way she felt attracted to him.

  She was trying hard not to show any emotion, but something must have shown. He took a step closer and cupped her chin in his palm. “Isobel,” he said softly, with such tenderness Isobel’s throat felt tight.

  He ran his thumb along her cheekbone and she trembled. She knew he could feel it.

  “Damn,” he growled. “I never get involved or even friendly with someone in my investigation.”

  His finger was still on her cheek and she could feel it touching someplace deep inside. “Because you lose perspective?” she wanted to know.

  “Because the guilty can seem innocent and the innocent can seem guilty. I never take the chance that I’m wrong. I always go by the book. It was the way I was raised, the way I was taught and the way I’ve lived my life.”

  So his father had an influence even though Neil hadn’t wanted him to? She didn’t ask that question out loud because she was too lost in the heat in Neil’s eyes, too lost in the way he was looking at her.

  There was complete silence in the stairwell. The steel fire doors kept the busy noise in the halls from entering the staircase. Her heart was pounding in her ears, racing with anticipation and expectation.

  Neil’s hand slid to her neck under her curly hair. The warmth of his skin felt so good…the touch of his fingers against her scalp so sensually right. When he tilted her head up and lowered his, she knew exactly what was going to happen. He paused just an instant in case she wanted to back away. She knew she should back away, but she definitely didn’t want to. Curiosity and need were much stronger than any sense of propriety, or any admonition from her good sense that she was consorting with the enemy. Right now, Neil didn’t feel like the enemy and she refused even to consider the fact that he might be.

  It had been almost three years since she’d been kissed by a man…three years since she’d had any intimate contact at all. When Neil’s lips touched hers, she savored the sensation, recognizing the chemistry that was stronger than any she’d ever experienced. She could shyly wait to see what he’d do next but she didn’t. Her arms went around his neck and when they did, his tongue slid into her mouth. The material of his suit coat was smooth against her arms. His hair was thick and coarse under her fingers. The scent of his cologne and something more basic intoxicated her until she forgot she was a social worker who worked for Walnut River General and she became totally a woman in Neil Kane’s arms.

  When his tongue probed her mouth, she stroked against it and heard him groan. Pressed together on the narrow step, they hardly moved for fear they’d teeter off. But Neil’s tongue moved, his hand on her back moved, and she pressed into him seeking his arousal, proving she was as hungry as he was. After his hands crept up and down her back, they settled in her hair. His fingers tangled in her curls as if they couldn’t get enough of the feel of them.

  Abruptly—all too soon—his hands stilled and he broke away. “I feel like a teenager in high school between classes.”

  She almost lost her balance and his arms went around her again. “Are you okay?”

  “Just fine,” she lied, still in a daze from the erotic sensations running through her.

  “We wouldn’t want anyone to see us together like this,” he said somberly.

  “No, we wouldn’t,” she ag
reed thinking about her career, her friendships, Neil’s investigation.

  “That’s been an event waiting to happen since the moment we met.”

  Apparently he’d felt the sparks, too. Now that it had happened, she didn’t know quite how to put her feelings into words. Taking a deep breath, she ran a hand through her hair, straightened her jacket, and pasted on a smile. “I have to get to Admissions. I have a meeting there in…” She checked her watch. “Ten minutes.”

  “I was on my way to X-ray. There are some reports there I need to look over.”

  She knew better than to ask questions because Neil wouldn’t answer them.

  They began descending the steps together but this time they didn’t converse, and this time the silence wasn’t companionable. There was too much electricity still crackling between them, too much uncertainty about what had happened and what should happen next.

  When they stood silently on the first-floor landing, Neil pulled open the heavy fire door and Isobel preceded him through it. She heard voices right away—raised voices—just around the corner. She recognized them.

  “I can’t make Anna see reason any more than you can,” Peter Wilder said to his brother David.

  “Can’t you talk sense into her?” David asked Ella. “You two used to be so close.”

  “Used to be is the operative phrase,” Ella responded sadly.

  “Ever since she quit med school, too much distance has grown between us. It’s partially my fault, partially the family’s fault. I think Anna feels like an outsider with us because she’s different in so many ways.”

  “Maybe so,” David agreed. “But that doesn’t excuse her now, working for a company that’s trying to destroy Dad’s legacy.”

  Peter added, “She doesn’t see it that way. In fact, she insists if Northeastern HealthCare takes over, we’ll have access to the latest research and technology. She doesn’t realize how the company’s deluding her.”

  “They’re in it for the money,” David insisted. “And as long as she’s working for them, she’s working against us. Dad’s lifelong pursuits and our careers don’t seem to mean anything to her anymore.”

  Neil clasped Isobel’s elbow and whispered in her ear, “We’ve got to let them know we’re here.” Taking a step back, he opened and closed the stairway door once more, letting it bang loudly.

  The conversation around the corner stopped. Neil guided Isobel toward the Wilders. Ella smiled at Isobel. David eyed Neil suspiciously. Peter just looked resigned.

  They would have walked by the Wilder clan, but Peter called out, “Isobel, may I speak with you?”

  When Neil released her arm, she felt the absence of his touch. Neil nodded at Peter then his gaze met Isobel’s. His expression was neutral but there was still heat in his eyes, heat that she felt, too. “I’ll call your office soon,” he said, “and we’ll finish up with those questions.” He didn’t look back as he strode down the hall, leaving her with Peter Wilder.

  “Everything okay?” Peter asked her, his gaze still on Neil’s back.

  “Everything’s fine.” If you could count being kissed senseless as being fine, she thought.

  “Do you think you could clear a few minutes in your schedule for me? There’s something I need to discuss with you. I’m tied up tomorrow. Thursday I have more wiggle room.”

  Isobel mentally went over her schedule for the week. There was never enough time in a day but she could give Peter a few minutes of her lunch hour. “I can see you at twelve-thirty on Thursday unless there’s an emergency.”

  “That sounds good, thanks. Can you come to my office?”

  Isobel knew that something had been troubling Peter lately. She’d assumed it was the takeover attempt and now the investigation. But maybe there was something else, something more personal. Whatever it was, she hoped she could help him with it. “Sure. I’ll call you if something comes up.”

  After Peter turned away, Isobel hurried toward Admissions, all the while not thinking about Peter or the discussion she’d overheard with his family. Only one thing filled her mind—Neil’s kiss and how she’d felt when she’d kissed him back.

  “You’re better than I thought you’d be,” Chad muttered as Neil prevented another of the sixteen-year-old’s shots from flying into the basket.

  They were playing basketball in Chad’s driveway and Neil was enjoying it. He’d been surprised when Isobel’s nephew had phoned him earlier and asked if he’d like to shoot some hoops. Neil had agreed, knowing he could use the exercise, suspecting Chad wanted some older male company. He obviously missed his dad.

  “We’re even. I can’t let you drop another one in,” Neil insisted as a car drew up at the curb. It was Isobel’s car.

  He and Chad were hard at it again when Isobel walked up the driveway and stopped to watch them. “This is a surprise.” Just that moment of inattention, of listening to her voice, was all Chad needed to score on Neil.

  “I won,” Chad crowed, then did something unexpected. He tossed the ball to Isobel.

  She easily caught it.

  “Want to play, Aunt Iz? I’ve got homework to do.”

  Isobel must have stopped at home before coming over. She was dressed in jeans, a sweatshirt and running shoes. “Maybe Neil’s not up for another game. You might have tired him out.”

  He could hear the mischief in Isobel’s tone. She was daring him to play basketball with her. He never turned away from a dare. “We have a half hour of daylight left. I’ve got enough energy left to make eleven before you see five.”

  “You’re on.” She threw the ball to Neil and, taking her shoulder bag from her arm, she tossed it to Chad. “Take that inside, would you?”

  Her nephew saluted, grinned and loped off. Isobel’s fingers went to the waistband of her sweatshirt.

  Neil found himself holding his breath as she pulled it up and over her head, revealing a red T-shirt that fitted snugly against her breasts and defined her waist. The next thing he knew, she’d pulled a headband out of her pocket and slipped it on. She looked too sexy for words. His mouth went dry and he didn’t know how he was going to guard her when he’d much rather pull her into the garage and kiss her blind. He hadn’t been able to forget their encounter in the stairwell—not one little detail of it.

  “Ready when you are,” she said sweetly.

  He tossed the ball back to her. “Try to make a basket.”

  As they did a side dance, first to the left and then to the right, she asked, “So what are you doing here?”

  When she tried to throw, he easily blocked her, snatched the ball, pivoted on one foot and shot. The ball swooped through the basket.

  Catching it on a bounce, he handed it to her. “Try again.” When she didn’t move, he replied, “Chad called me and asked if I wanted to play basketball. I’d given him my card last night. Since I needed the exercise, I said yes.”

  Isobel dribbled thoughtfully. “He needs a male role model.”

  “How often does he see his dad?”

  “Not often enough. A week in the summer, every other holiday.” Craftily she slipped under Neil’s arm and made a basket.

  “So you’re going to be sneaky,” he teased.

  “I aim to win.”

  “Not if I can help it.”

  They went at their game seriously then.

  After Neil had scored two and Isobel one, he spotted the determination in her eyes. She was going to try to mow him down. He could have moved out of the way. He could have simply blocked her with one long arm. But the devil inside him made him stand perfectly still as he took her shoulder into his chest. She pushed and he didn’t push back. Her curls were damp around her face, her breath was coming quick and hard, her breasts pushed into him and his arm came around her, holding her still. The ball fell from her hand, bounced and rolled away. When she looked up at him, the sizzle that had begun the moment they’d met snapped and sparked.

  “I’ve got to…” she stopped. “I’ve got to get the ball.”
/>
  “We could try another kiss instead of playing basketball,” he suggested, his voice huskier than he’d like.

  Instead of considering that option seriously, Isobel pushed a curl from her cheek, stepped back and responded, “My sister would ask too many questions if we did that.”

  “Maybe the questions would be worth it,” he remarked.

  “Maybe another kiss would take us somewhere we don’t want to go.” She looked as serious as he’d ever seen her and he knew she’d meant what she said.

  “I’ll get the ball.” He needed to move before he took her into his arms and kissed her into oblivion, making her wish they’d never stop.

  The ball had rolled off the tarmacadam to the side of the garage where Chad’s bike stood tilted against the forsythia bush.

  Isobel came over and laid her hand over the seat on the racing bike.

  “It’s a nice bike.” His comment was lame, but he needed something to get them back on easy footing.

  “Chad’s father gave it to him for his birthday. He told him to go down to the bike shop and pick out the one he wanted.”

  Neil stood by her shoulder, watching the shadows from falling dusk play over her face. “You sound as if you don’t approve.”

  “Chad likes the bike and he knows his mom never could have afforded one like it. But the truth is, he would have appreciated his dad flying in here and spending a weekend with him a lot more.”

  Playing devil’s advocate, Neil offered, “Airfare’s expensive.”

  “If you have kids, they should come first, foremost and always,” she said vehemently.

  “You mean when you have kids that’s what will happen.”

  “I think that’s what should happen for every child. And yes, when I have children, I’ll put them first.”

  He knew he was stepping into private territory but had to ask, “You want children?”

  She looked down at the bike then up at him. “Very much. How about you?”

  “I’d like to have kids someday. I’ve often thought about joining a Big Brother program.”

  “Why haven’t you?”

  “Because when I make a promise or a commitment, I believe in keeping it. My job sometimes takes me away unexpectedly and I wouldn’t want to have to break a planned trip to a ball game or a movie or a day at the park. That wouldn’t be fair.”

 

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