Sheltering His Desire (2 page)

Her ego was already limping. It wasn’t just
him denying her now, or even that he had so long ago. It was all of
it. It had been ages since she’d run into a guy who seemed to care
there was a person inside her. Except Tate, and he treated her
differently because of her brother. Tonight it all merged in her
skull and was too much. So yeah, she was being pushy, and insecure,
and bratty. And she was terrified if she stopped now—even if she
backtracked and took a kinder route—she’d never find out what she
needed to know. Was she only ever destined to attract, and be
attracted to, the wrong guys?

Her toes slid higher on his thigh, and she
paused when the landscape changed and she brushed his erection. He
inhaled sharply through clenched teeth. Had she really made him
hard just with a line of questions? The thought both terrified and
excited her.

“The right guy is out there.” His words were
strained. Any of the humor that usually lined his voice was gone.
“And you’ll meet him, and you’ll know when you do that he’s
different.”

Of course. Just like eight years ago. Except
this time, she was licking too many wounds to want to stop. His
rejection back then, this bullshit online. It all jumbled into a
mess, reminding her how much she normally held back around Tate,
and that she’d never gotten over him. She draped her arms around
his neck. “What if the right guy
is
you?”

Faster than she could blink, he grabbed her
wrists, stood, and pinned her palms to the desk. He pushed her
upright and slid between her legs at the same time, standing close
enough heat radiated between them. Her pulse kicked into overdrive,
and want slid through her. The intensity in his gaze made her mind
stall.

He scraped his teeth up her neck, and she bit
her tongue to hold back her whimper. Her pulse screamed for more,
bringing every nerve ending to life. His warm breath on her skin
was tantalizing and tempting, and she needed him to take this
further. To feel his tongue explore her, his hands strip her bare.
Every inch of his flesh against hers.

His whisper brushed her ear. “I promise I’m
not.”

“So everything you’re saying is just lip
service.” Irritation tinged her desire, making it surge. He was so
sure he knew what was best for her, and she was sick of that. She
scooted closer, rubbing his erection each time she shifted her
weight. He was definitely interested. What would it take to shatter
his defenses?

“If we ever hooked up, it would be because
you actually wanted me, not because you were hurt and wanted
someone to take your frustrations out on.”

That pushed another button of defiance.
Heat—fury, desire, all of it mingled and seared her veins. She
didn’t know what to focus on, so she let it all course through her.
“I do want you, and you know it.”

He ducked his head closer without warning,
still holding her hands captive, and crushed his mouth against
hers. His groan mingled with hers when she ground against him. His
tongue forced its way into her mouth. His insistent shaft pressed
between her legs, making her go from damp to wet in an instant, and
her nipples strained against her bra. So this was what it was like
to feel sparks.

He broke away as quickly as he’d dived in,
breaking all contact as he stepped back. Disappointment and longing
surged inside her. His steady gaze locked on her face. “You deserve
better than what I’m offering, even for just a night. Trust
me.”

“Goddammit, Tate.” Her throat ached from just
the few words. She hopped to her feet, bringing her closer to him
again. She grasped at every strand of anger inside and used it to
smother the overwhelming hurt making her joints ache. “I’m so tired
of you telling me what I do and don’t need. Do you maybe think I
might know that better than you?”

She raised her hands to his shoulders to push
him back, and he grabbed her wrists again, still looking her in the
eye. Despite her irritation, his rough touch still spoke to the
primal lust raging inside her.

“You might need to get off, but not with me.
And I get as much say in the matter as you do. I can’t stop you
from keeping the fantasy, though.”

Her face heated to red-hot. She broke free of
his grasp and shoved him back. “You impossibly arrogant ass.”

He opened his mouth, but a loud beep cut him
off. Her heart beat against her ribcage in frustration and
surprise. The tone of the speakerphone cut through the room,
followed by her assistant, Sara’s panicked voice. “Doctor, we need
you out here.”

Without thought, her fury and indignation
were bundled up, shoved into a box in the back of her skull, and
locked away tight, even killing her desire to tell Tate the
conversation wasn’t over. “On my way, what’s up?”

“Mutt. Broken leg, fractured ribs, probably
internal bleeding.”

Alyssia’s gut clenched. The stupid argument
could wait. Her patient was more important. She pushed past Tate
and out the door without stopping to see what he was up to. She’d
care later, this was emergency time.

Tate shouldn’t have kissed her. That was
possibly the stupidest thing he’d done in ages. His cock still
ached, straining against his slacks, and he’d been seconds from
telling her yes. He’d never done that before. Only partly because
Jared would kill him. Largely because she deserved better than a
cheap one night stand. On top of it all, she was a client. He never
mixed business with pleasure.

But the conversation was apparently over.
She’d gone from stubborn to professional in a flash, face
hardening, and him all but ignored. Thank God for small favors.

Then again, that was one reason she was so
good at running the shelter. She knew where her priorities lay.
She’d started volunteering there when she was still in high school.
During college, she took on more administrative tasks, along with
helping the doctors and nurses, which translated into great
experience for veterinary school.

She’d officially become a doctor less than a
year ago. When the owner had to sell three years ago, for personal
reasons, Jared had loaned her the money to purchase the business
itself. Well, technically Tate had loaned her the money through
Jared, but she didn’t know that. Tate tried to offer, but she
refused to owe him. Now she was looking to expand the place and buy
the property it sat on, which meant she needed another infusion of
capital. Hence the crowdfunding campaign.

He followed her out of the office, staying a
few feet back for his own sanity. Getting too close to that heady
scent of soap would just screw with his head again. His footsteps
slowed as he reached the front lobby of the clinic. The panicked
woman near the front desk was probably just a little younger than
his thirty-four, and she looked painfully familiar.

He scanned the face against a list in his
head. Not a business associate. Not a one night stand, or a friend
of a friend. Where did he know her from?

She looked up as soon as Alyssia drew close.
Her words ran together. “He’s hurt, I don’t know how badly, but he
won’t come out of the car, and he just keeps whimpering, and you
have to help him, please.”

Alyssia rested a hand on her arm, tone kind
but firm. “We will. Show me.”

He’d let them get to work. Lys had everything
under control. But he couldn’t help following her to the SUV near
the front door. And then it clicked in his head. The woman worked
for a friend of his parents. Friend was a deceptive word. Her
employer was sleeping with Tate’s mother. The country club’s dirty
little secret that everyone knew. The woman was a housekeeper. She
swung the back doors open, and a low growl echoed through the dark
parking lot.

“Come on, boy.” Alyssia’s voice was low and
soothing, as she crawled inside the vehicle. A loud series of barks
reverberated, and she scrambled out backwards, face pinched.

“See?” Hysteria crept into the woman’s voice.
“I can’t get him out. I don’t want him to bite me again. He already
did it once when I was putting him in there. She held up a hand
wrapped in gauze.

“Tranquilizer?” Sara asked.

Alyssia shook her head. “Not until I can take
a look at him.”

While they were conferring, Tate pushed
through the small group. His chest clenched. It was the neighbor’s
dog. Belonged to their teenage son. Even in the dim light, it was
obvious he was in pain. Tate crawled toward him slowly, murmuring
random reassurances in the softest voice he could. The dog
whimpered, but didn’t pull away or snap. It felt like it took ages
to close the distance, but it was probably less than a minute. He
cradled the mutt and backed out just as slowly, trying not to jar
any injuries or startle the animal.

Three faces stared back in wide-eyed
surprise. Alyssia recovered first. She didn’t say anything, just
nodded toward the clinic. He followed without question into one of
the rooms. He set the dog on the table, gently stroking his head
and whispering more incoherent reassurances while Alyssia examined
the dog, and then hooked him to an IV.

“Okay.” Her quiet voice sounded loud and
abrupt, shattering the stillness but not the tension. “Thank you. I
need you out now, though.”

He nodded and extracted himself from the
room. He let out a long breath when he was in the hallway. “Cait,”
he called to the pacing woman in the lobby. “What happened?”

She tugged on her blonde braid, not meeting
his gaze. “Nothing. I got clumsy cleaning his dog run.
Left…something out, and, um…he got hurt.”

Tate wasn’t even going to point out what a
bad lie that was. He stared at her a minute longer, and her
shoulders slumped. “I can’t tell you. I need this job. You can’t
even tell them it was me who brought it in. Please.”

It was times like this he had no idea how
Alyssia did her job without surrendering everything fun and amazing
about her personality. He jammed his fists in his pockets to hide
his clenched fists. “Bryce Jr.?”

Her nod was so slight it was difficult to
see.

He wasn’t going to yell at her. He understood
where she was coming from. But it took more restraint than he
thought he had to suppress his anger. If he had a reserve of
self-control, he was pretty sure he’d eaten through it twice over
tonight. “She’s not going to let the dog go tonight regardless. You
might as well go home.”

“No. I have to take him back.”

“Not happening,” Sara broke in from her spot
at the computer. “Not with injuries like that.”

“But what am I supposed to tell them?”
Caitlin asked.

Tate sank into a nearby chair, his verbal
filters failing fast. “A better lie than you told me.”

*

Alyssia didn’t know how many hours had
passed. She’d splinted a broken leg, stitched up several cuts, and
seen to the internal injuries before splinting most of the poor
boy’s frame. She was exhausted, but her patient should pull
through.

Her stomach snarled. Maybe she should have
taken Tate up on his offer for dinner instead of throwing herself
at him like an idiot. Again. Apparently eight years was just enough
time to forget the lessons of the past. Not that she would have had
time to eat anyway.

She stepped into the waiting room, eyes
taking a moment to adjust. They only kept half the lights on
overnight. Sara looked up from behind the reception desk, and they
exchanged smiles. No words were needed. They’d been working
together long enough Sara would get it. The exhaustion, the stress,
and the relief that the first bad part was over.

Alyssia halted in her tracks at what she saw
next. Tate was seated in one of the plastic chairs, staring blankly
at a magazine, not turning the pages.

“What are you still doing here?”

He jumped when she spoke, and whirled to face
her. “Is the puppy okay?”

She wasn’t going to acknowledge the adoration
his question summoned. Especially since the dog was anything but a
puppy. Tate’s clothes were a wreck. Dark streaks—she assumed
blood—smeared his shirt, tie, and slacks. In that brief second, any
of her lingering frustration from earlier evaporated. “He’ll be
fine. Friend of yours?”

He gave a weak smile. “We’ve met. He lives
near my folks.”

Her stomach protested loudly, and her cheeks
burned when he raised an eyebrow.

“No arguments this time.” He tossed the
fashion magazine aside and stood. “I’m buying you dinner.”

“There’s a 24-hour Mexican place around the
corner,” Sara offered. “I’m having two cheese enchiladas.”

Tate looked between the two, pausing on
Alyssia. “Chicken nachos, extra cheese?”

“It’s okay. I’m fine.” Alyssia didn’t even
believe herself. “I have cookies in my desk drawer.”

Tate shook his head. “When you’re not so
tired, we’ll work on what ‘no arguments’ means. I’ll be back in
fifteen minutes.”

At least the place was drive thru, so no one
would question why he was in blood-streaked clothes.

Alyssia leaned against a nearby wall for
support when he vanished out the door. A glance at the clock told
her it was almost midnight. She was going to need some serious
coffee if she was going to make it through the rest of the night.
She had her other doctors rotate night shifts. Of the four on
staff, they rotated out the months and weekends they worked
graveyards, and she didn’t think it was fair to make them do what
she wasn’t willing, so she was part of that rotation. She was three
weeks in, and she’d adjusted just fine, but days like today
reminded her why she’d rather be asleep right now.

As if reading her mind, Sara nodded toward
the kitchen. “He made a fresh pot of coffee just a little while
ago.”

Alyssia kicked away from her support and
followed the aroma of consciousness.

“Have I mentioned yet today how sexy he is?”
Sara’s question followed her, carrying easily over the tile in the
empty clinic.