Hotblooded (5 page)

The physical release he’d denied himself yesterday with the sexiest woman he’d ever kissed was doing nothing to improve his mood.

Maybe he’d run into her again. If so, he didn’t think he could walk away a second time.

And this time, he was sure as hell going to get her name.

“Hello?” he called out.

“Be right there!”

The voice came from down the hallway where he assumed the treatment rooms to be. He felt his pulse quicken. He and the maid hadn’t spent much time conversing yesterday so he wasn’t sure he’d recognize her voice. He knew he’d recognize her scent though.

“Hi.”

Stupidly, he felt his heart sink as a Hispanic woman dressed in scrubs emerged from a door down the hallway and came toward him carrying three cardboard boxes. She was beautiful, but she wasn’t the woman he’d been dreaming of.

But maybe this was Brooke Donovan.

“Hi,” he returned, carefully putting his smile in place.

As much as his body begged to differ, he didn’t need to get laid. He needed some absolution. At least, he needed absolution more.

“Can I help you?”

The woman drew close enough for him to read
Carla
on her name tag. Damn.

“I sure hope so,” he said, using his good-ol’-boy Southern Texas drawl. He leaned onto one elbow on the counter. “My name’s Jack Silver. I came to meet with Ms. Donovan.”

“Well, lucky Ms. Donovan,” she said, looking him up and down blatantly, but with a smile that told him that flirting was like blinking for her—something that she did without thinking.

This was more like it. He was charming, dammit, and knew how to talk women into almost anything. Brooke Donovan was perhaps an exception, but he was determined that was only temporary.

“Well, thank you, ma’am,” he returned, wishing he had a cowboy hat to tip to her. He didn’t understand women’s attraction to cowboy hats but he knew it was real and was not above using it to his advantage. Or anything else for that matter.

Speaking of which…

“Let me help you with those.” He stepped forward and relieved Carla of her armful of boxes.

“Thanks.” She led the way behind the counter and pointed for him to put the boxes on the countertop near the copy machine. “Sorry, Brooke’s doing house calls until eleven.”

“House calls?” he repeated. “Seriously?”

Jack glanced around. This was the second time in as many days that he’d been in the clinic when it was basically deserted. “Does she always come in at eleven?”

Carla shrugged. “She comes in when she needs to.”

He frowned at that. This was a medical clinic. She was the medical provider, the only one in town. Her supervising physician came out of Amarillo. So how could she not be here? What if there was a medical emergency for God’s sake?

“What if I was going into anaphylactic shock?” he asked before he could stop himself.

Carla didn’t look concerned about the possibility. “I’d page her and start treating you per her instructions until she got here.”

He played with the idea of faking something just to get Brooke in front of him. He was sure he could do a convincing job with many illnesses. But it probably wouldn’t make her any friendlier with him when she found out it was a hoax.

Carla eyed him up and down. “I’ll be glad to check you out for hives and such. But you look pretty danged healthy to me.”

He chuckled. “No hives. I’m good.”

“You sure? I mean, you could slip your shirt off for just a minute to be sure.”

He laughed at that. “You Honey Creek ladies sure are friendly.”

Carla seemed intrigued by that. “Who else have you met?”

“Just your cleaning lady.” And that was all he was going to say about that.

“Our…cleaning lady,” she said nodding slowly. “Right. You found her friendly?”

He shifted as his body remembered just how friendly. “Yes. Very…sweet.” God was she sweet.

“Well, good,” Carla said, watching him with an expression he couldn’t label. “I didn’t realize Brooke had a meeting scheduled today.”

“I took my chances and just showed up.”

She laughed. “That’s probably not going to work for you. Brooke doesn’t like surprises.”

“Then maybe you can help me.”

“Well, let’s hear what you’ve got.”

“I’ve got a bunch of money and I want to spend it on Brooke.”

Carla looked at him for a long moment. Then she asked, “Did you obtain this money legally?”

He grinned. “Yes.”

“Are you asking anything in return? Medical care, votes…sexual favors?”

She winked at him.

His grin grew. “No, I’m not. It’s free and clear.”

She sighed. “Hm, too bad.”

“I’m flattered.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “I was thinking more for Brooke’s sake. Not that I’m not fully dedicated to helping this clinic however I can,” she added with another wink.

“Thanks.” But his smile was a little forced this time.

For Brooke’s sake echoed in his head but he kept his mouth shut on the questions that threatened to fall out. It was a weird comment to make. Especially about a woman who had lost her husband only a few months ago. But he let it go. Completely. He was not curious about Brooke Donovan. All he cared about was leaving Honey Creek with a clear conscience.

“My shrink says I’m addicted to being the hero.”

Carla’s eyes scanned over him. “You’re built for being a hero, Jack Silver.” Her eyes returned to his face. “You any good at it?”

He nodded. “I am.”

“You got a tight fittin’ Superhero outfit with a cape?” she asked. “’Cuz that I’d like to see.”

He laughed. He liked Carla. “No. I’m a bit more understated than that.”

She shook her head regretfully. “Too bad” she said with a grin. “So hero-boy, what do you need my help with? I’m just a mortal, remember. Unless line dancin’ and grounding teenage boys are superpowers—then I might be in your league.”

“How many boys?”

“I’m a single mom of four. Youngest is twelve.”

He whistled. “Lady, you are so far beyond me on the hero-scale, it ain’t even funny.”

They stood smiling at each other, feeling their growing camaraderie.

“Okay, here’s the deal,” he said. “I have two hundred and fifty thousand dollars for Brooke, and she won’t take it.”

Carla didn’t say anything for a few seconds, just stood watching him. Then she moved to the desk behind her, opened the top right drawer and pulled out a bag of peanut butter M&M’s. She undid the twist tie at the top of the bag and shook a few candies out into her palm. Then she held the bag out. He opened his palm and she poured a small pile into it.

She munched on two M & M’s for a moment. Finally she asked, “A quarter of a million dollars?”

He nodded.

“Just like that?”

He wanted to laugh. Right, just like that. Piece of cake. No big deal. If she only knew the torment that had preceded this decision.

“The money is the life insurance from the man who hit and killed her husband.” And God knew Jack wasn’t keeping any of it. “His family wants her to have it.” All true enough. He didn’t need to mention that he was a part of said family. Or that he had spent two weeks talking the rest of said family into the idea.

Carla looked at him and chewed on her M&M’s for a moment. “Nope.” She shook her head finally. “She won’t go for that.”

He huffed out a frustrated breath. “No kidding.” He threw a few M & M’s into his mouth and chewed glumly.

“Yeah, you mentioned that she won’t take it. You talked to her?”

“Finally. I was persistent.”

Carla smiled. “That’s a good place to start with Brooke.”

“Yeah, well, it pretty much ended there too,” he said with aggravation.

“She won?” Carla looked like she was trying to hide a grin.

He raised both eyebrows. “I’m here, aren’t I? She won’t win until I give up. Which won’t happen.”

Carla dug in the bag for more candy. “Why’s it matter so much? Take the money and go home.”

“I…” He stopped and regrouped, considering his words carefully. “This is especially important to one of the man’s nephews.”

“The family doesn’t need the money?”

“No.” They definitely did not need the money. Jack’s brother did very well for himself and Jack’s mother was dating a wealthy investor and was very well taken care of. The rest of the family was fine…and had long ago distanced themselves from Ed and his alcoholism. Ed had no children and his two wives had preceded him into eternity. The only life left in tumult was Brooke Donovan’s.

“They don’t
want
the money either?” she asked.

He shrugged. “Not really.” His mother and brother’s aversion to Jack coming to Honey Creek wasn’t about them wanting the money, or about them not wanting Brooke to have it. It was about them wanting Jack to stop being obsessive about Brooke having the money.

Carla dug in the bag until she found a red M & M. She popped it into her mouth. “What can I do?”

He bent his knees so that he was on eye level with her five foot two inches. “Help me spend this money on Brooke. I’ll do anything.”

She tipped her head to one side. “Anything?”

He hesitated. “You want me to take my shirt off, don’t you?”

She laughed. “A little,” she admitted. “But I have something else in mind.”

“Brooke, you’re here!”

Carla, the clinic nurse and Brooke’s only true friend in Honey Creek met her with a huge grin as she stepped through the front door and into the empty waiting room.

“Hi,” Brooke said slowly, taken aback by the exuberance of the woman she’d never known to be exuberant. Ever.

“Isn’t it a great day?” Carla asked brightly.

“Okay,” Brooke said. She hadn’t really formed an opinion of the day yet.

She headed for the back room. She needed a cup of tea before she could delve into what was going on with her friend. “Any patients?” she asked as she pushed the swinging door open between the front of the clinic and the back break room.

“Sorry.”

Nothing. Brooke glanced at the clock. She sighed. During graduate school and her time in San Antonio at the free clinic she would have paid for down time where she could sit, drink tea and read romance novels. Now she went through at least two thick novels a week and she was almost sick of her favorite tea.

She stepped into the back room to get her cup and tea bags, but froze in the doorway, the door swinging back and bumping her in the rear end.

“Um, Carla?”

“Yeah?”

“What is that?”

She felt Carla come up beside her. “That is the cappuccino machine.” She said it with obvious affection in her voice.

Brooke stared at the polished silver appliance. Well, it would solve her tea boredom.

“It’s ours?” she asked.

Carla lifted a shoulder. “Yeah.”

“I don’t remember ordering it,” Brooke said mildly. She started toward the monstrosity.

Carla spoke when Brooke was halfway across the room. “Jack bought it.”

She froze. She pivoted slowly back toward Carla. “Jack?”

“Jack Silver. The guy who was…”

“I know who he is,” Brooke interrupted. “What is he doing buying a cappuccino machine for us?”

“He said you wouldn’t take his money so he thought he’d get us something we need instead.”

“We need a cappuccino machine?”

“Hey, you don’t have four kids, but I know
I
need a cappuccino machine.” Carla gazed fondly at the appliance.

“What else?” Brooke crossed her arms and regarded the other woman with narrowed eyes.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean what else did he buy for us? I know he didn’t settle for just a coffee machine.”

Brooke wasn’t sure how she knew, but she did. She had a feeling Jack Silver wasn’t the type of guy to do anything partway. He went all the way, and then some.

“It’s not just a coffee machine,” Carla protested. She crossed to the machine and began preparing herself another cup.

“Carla, what else?” Brooke asked firmly.

Her friend sighed. “Okay. Computer equipment and software. It’s supposed to be delivered tomorrow.”

“I can’t take this stuff from him.”

“Why not? He’s loaded.”

“He’s loaded?” Brooke asked. “How do you know that?”

“I can just tell. Doesn’t he seem loaded?”

Brooke didn’t really want to think about that, or anything else related to Jack Silver. She’d spent far too much time thinking about him already. And wasn’t that just what everyone would expect anyway? She had to keep her mind on her work and the clinic, not the good-looking, single guy passing through town. At least, she assumed he was single. Like it mattered, she thought with a roll of her eyes. It certainly wouldn’t slow the speculation if he was married.

“Seriously,” Carla went on, having to raise her voice over the noise of the machine as she steamed her milk. “He’s just got…something, don’t you think? I mean, sure he’s good looking. Really good looking. But he’s also just—” she paused in the midst of rotating the carafe, “—so
there
. He’s pretty hard to say no to.”

“I managed it,” Brooke pointed out just as loudly, increasingly annoyed by Carla’s observations about Jack. Even more because they were true.

“Well, you didn’t really,” Carla said with a smile, shutting the steamer off. “I mean he still managed to give you the money…indirectly.”

Brooke wasn’t sure what to say. But it certainly wasn’t going to be an acknowledgment that Carla was right. “That’s only part of the money he wants to give me.” No way that thing cost two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

Carla abandoned the cappuccino for a moment, planting her hands on her hips. “Why won’t you take it?” she demanded.

“I can’t. You know that.”

Carla looked at her, her expression exasperated and sympathetic at the same time.

“I’m right,” Brooke insisted. Walter wanted to believe, and wanted to convince everyone else—including Brooke—that she was nothing without a man taking care of her. Like her mother had been. “Everyone is expecting me to bail. I have to stick this out. Do it the hard way if I ever want to feel like I proved something.”

Carla nodded slowly. “I know.”

“So, you understand why I have to turn it all down.” Brooke moved toward the door. “I have to do this on my own. In every way.”