Coming ine box set, p.34
Coming in Hot: Rescue Me Box Set, page 34
“Damn, straight, I’m pissed,” Devon said, leaning forward.
“Know this, dear boy,” Seamus continued. “I don’t make these decisions lightly. Rachel is someone I’ve wanted you to meet for a while now, as you well know, but your stubborn ass always makes up an excuse not to show up. Yeah, yeah,” he continued with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I know you’ve been busy gallivanting all over the globe doing important work to help others in need, but when you came home and opened your clinic a few months ago, I thought I could at least get the two of you in the same room.” He sighed heavily.
“I know you too well, son,” Seamus said. “You’ll probably accuse her of being some Anna Nicole Smith or some such nonsense. You know my heart still belongs to your mother. Always has, always will. So, before you go and make an ass out of yourself, let me set you straight on the matter. The girl has no idea I have money. She has spent her free time watching over me and caring for me and I’ve grown to love her like a daughter. Every time I was hospitalized, it was she who made sure I was well taken care of and when I’d be discharged she’d often check on me to make sure I was fed and took my medication, running errands even though she didn’t have to. Not once did she ever ask for anything in return. Hell, she didn’t even know I could’ve hired a whole army of nurses and servants to take care of me.” He chuckled, mischief gleaming in his eyes.
Devon groaned, remembering all the awful things he’d said to Rachel. “Too, late, Da. I already have.” He chose to ignore his subsequent relief at the knowledge Rachel had never slept with his father. No need to go there…
Seamus leaned forward in his armchair with a stern expression on his weathered face. “I want nothing but the best for her. Do I make myself clear, Devon Andrew Jameson?”
Devon winced at the use of his full name feeling like he was ten years old all over again.
“And since I have the means,” his father continued. “I’m going to make sure Rachel’s well taken care of. You have no idea what she’s been through with that ex of hers. But that’s her story to tell, not mine.” His father straightened and flicked a piece of nonexistent lint from the leg of his pajama pants.
“Should I have talked to you about this before I made the changes in my will?” He gave a careless shrug. “Probably,” he conceded.
“Ya think?” Devon muttered and swore, pouring himself another double of Jack.
“She’s been through a tough time and has weathered more than her share of showers. She deserves some sunshine, Devon. Give it to her, boy. Give her the protection and security of the Jameson name and fortune.”
Devon frowned at his dad’s use of the old Irish blessing his mother had been so fond of. Another reminder of yet another loss in his life. Shit.
What was he supposed to do now?
His father mentioned a few other charities that he’d wanted to include before signing off, but Devon had barely heard the rest. He owed Rachel O’Dea one huge apology, he thought, staring at his hand with the faded sharpie marks on it, unable to make out the numbers. He had no way to contact her. Had no idea where she even lived. Fuck!
Digging his cell out of his back pocket of his jeans, he called Paul Levinson, his free hand scraping over his overgrown beard. Maybe if he made himself presentable, she might talk to him. The image of her expressive face as he’d accused her of sleeping with his father to con him out of a fortune flashed into his brain. Green eyes as hard as emeralds had shot daggers at him. Somehow it was going to take an act of the Almighty himself to get her to listen to him. Through experience, Devon knew God had abandoned him the day he’d lost Shannon.
Chapter Ten
“This is a bad idea, Seamus,” Rachel said, putting her car in park. Glumly, she stared at the front of the Van Buren Urgent care through the windshield of her car. “Remind me why I let you talk me into this again?”
“Well, how else are you supposed to find out how that boy did? You’re not family or friend, and Children’s Hospital wouldn’t give you any information about him,” Seamus said reasonably. “Besides, dear, you’re driving me insane with nothing to do all day. There’s only so many times you can clean your house.”
“I am going stir crazy,” she admitted. “And I’ve only been off work for a mere fifteen days. I have fifteen more to go. Not that I’m counting or anything.”
“Exactly,” he said. “So you have no excuses.”
Rachel turned in her seat and gazed at the apparition sitting in the passenger’s side. “What if he won’t give me any information? The last time we spoke, we weren’t exactly the best buds.” She thought it best not to remind Seamus about the part where Devon accused her of being a woman who preyed on elderly gentlemen for their money by sleeping with them. It must’ve been hard for him to witness Devon making those accusations at the time. The horrid man was Seamus’ son, after all and she didn’t want to hurt his feelings.
“Well, you won’t know if you don’t try,” came the female response from the back seat. “My son hasn’t exactly been gentlemanly with you,” Evie said.
Try numero uno jackass…Rachel thought, but kept her nasty thoughts to herself.
“But I thought you had more of a strong Irish backbone,” the older woman continued. “Didn’t you, Seamus?”
“Of course she does,” Seamus agreed. “Don’t ya lass? Now get in there!” With a wink and a flash of brilliant light, Seamus and Evie poofed from her car.
Trapped, Rachel had no choice but to get out of the Camry and head into the clinic. Her curiosity about little Joaquin was killing her. When she walked through the door, it was to a completely different scene then a few days ago. Every single seat in the waiting room was occupied and there were even people who stood waiting and milling about. A quick glance through the receptionist’s glass showed a harassed Maria trying to keep up with the phones that were ringing off the hook, and long line of patients waiting in a line to talk to her.
Maria’s gaze met hers through the see through partition and she motioned Rachel toward the side door she’d taken last time to Devon’s office. Once through, the flustered secretary met her and spoke in a rush.
“Oh, Senorita, I am so glad to see you,” she said. “Ever since Doctor Devon saved that boy’s life, the waiting room has been overflowing with patients. He needs help. There’s no nurses. I told that fool to hire nurses a month ago. I say, Doctor how you going to work with no nurses and he says for me to not worry about it. Well, we had no patients before cuz no one trust a gringo, especially when he say everything free. There ain’t no such thing as free, chica, if you know what I mean. So I no worry about it. But now…” She waved a hand toward the crowded waiting room.
Rachel looked down at her denim jeans and navy scooped-neck T-shirt. “I’m not exactly dressed to work,” she said.
“No one cares what you look like,” Maria said giving Rachel a shove in the direction of the patient care area. “As long as you work.”
At the threshold, Rachel paused, taking in the scene before her. Devon sat on a stool stitching a young man’s forehead laceration. She blinked. Gone was the overgrown beard and unruly hair that had grown around his ears to the base of his neck. Clean shaven and black hair neatly cut and styled just like she’d seen him in pictures Seamus had had sitting around his house.
Devon looked up then and his dark blue eyes met hers. He smiled warmly and motioned for her to come in. Damn, he was devastating. Her knees nearly buckled. She leaned against the door jamb and caught her balance for a second before approaching.
“I’m sorry to intrude. It looks like your busy, but I had wondered if you’d heard anything about Joaquin,” she said.
“Can you stay?” he asked. “I could really use some help here.”
Why was he being so nice? She eyed him with suspicion. “Ah, um, I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” she began.
“I can pay you for your time,” he said. “I haven’t had a need to hire anyone because the clinic has been so very slow, but now…” His voice trailed off and he looked around the large space with all the occupied gurneys.
“We can talk after we close for the day. I’ll fill you in about Joaquin’s progress over dinner.”
“Hey, the doc is making the move on you, little momma,” the guy on the gurney said smiling. “Give the gringo doc a break.”
Her lips curved at the patient’s teasing tone. “What happened to you?” she asked wanting to change the subject.
“I got into a fight with my brother,” he said. “The doc here said I won’t have much of a scar.”
“It’s okay,” she said with a smile. “You know that chicks dig scars, right?”
“I hope so, chiquita,” he said with a laugh.
Rachel’s gaze moved over the healing gash on Devon’s temple now visible after his recent haircut. Dude has serious scars, inside and out. She’d have to remember that. She realized Devon was looking at her funny. “What?
“Nothing,” he said with a slight shake of his head.
“I’ll stay for a little while and help you out, but I don’t need your money or dinner. Got it?” she asked.
“Got it,” Devon agreed.
As she walked away, she heard his patient say, “Doc, you need to step up your game. Your sexy nurse just dissed you.” He laughed.
Dismissing her curiosity over Devon’s apparent change in attitude toward her and the subsequent conversation full of dating tips for him, Rachel buried herself in work. She’d missed patient care, although this was a different hustle and bustle than the intensive care unit she was used to working in. The work was satisfying. It definitely beat sitting at home staring at the same walls inside her house or trying to read a book she’d read a zillion times. Without Seamus to take care of on her days off… Well, she was bored out of her ever-loving mind. Before she knew it, the last patient had been seen and was sent out the door complete with a round of oral antibiotics for his bronchitis.
“We work well together,” Devon said, coming up behind her where she’d been restocking the cabinet with sterile gauze packets.
She whirled around, dropping a few boxes in the process. He bent and picked them up, then tossed them on the counter at her back.
“So how about that dinner? We both missed lunch,” he asked, closing in on her personal space. “You have to be starving by now.”
“No dinner,” she said frostily, ignoring the rapid beat of her heart thundering within her chest. “I only stopped by today to find out about Joaquin’s condition. The hospital wouldn’t give me any information because of HIPPA. I thought because you were the original doctor who’d worked on him, Children’s would have released some information to you.”
He reached out and grasped a lock of her hair that had escaped the messy bun on top of her head, wrapping it around his finger. She could smell the woodsy scent of his aftershave and those eyes. The pure dark-blue color would bring a girl any age to her knees.
“It’s like a flame,” he murmured, seemingly fascinated. “So many colors.”
Rachel grasped her hair out of his hand and sidestepped around him to gain some space. Too close. He was too close. She exhaled a deep breath she hadn’t been aware she’d been holding.
“What gives?” she demanded, hands on hips. “Last time I saw you, you practically accused me of sleeping with your father for his money and now…” She waved a hand in his direction. “Are you coming on to me?” Her eyes widened. “I’m not marrying you so you can keep your clinic, if that’s what you’re thinking. Nor am I taking the inheritance.”
“Yes…Ah, no. Was I coming on to you?” He appeared a bit flustered and a sheepish grin spread across his face. “Yes, I guess I was. You’re one hell of an attractive woman. One who’s been on my mind way too much lately.” Devon swiped a hand through his neatly styled hair, mussing the longer strands in front. “Look, I owe you an apology. I should probably start there.”
“Damn straight you do. You said a lot of ugly things the other day,” she accused deciding it best to focus on him groveling for her forgiveness instead of words like come on and attraction.
“Well, that was before I knew the truth. My dad explained everything—”
Rachel gasped. Was Devon seeing his father’s ghost, too? But Seamus had said that wasn’t possible.
“—in a DVD that he’d recorded when he’d changed his will,” he continued obviously missing her reaction. “I was wrong to accuse you of his death, Rachel. I know that now. I’ve seen you work with the patients in here and you’re a wonderful nurse.”
Guilt seized her. But you don’t know, she wanted to scream. Seamus died on my watch. Unable to bear the trusting look in his eyes, she turned away and went to the cabinet she’d placed her purse in earlier, retrieved it, and slung the light satchel over her shoulder. Rachel liked it better when he was a cold jerk toward her. Much safer than all this sizzling heat arcing between them.
“And Joaquin is okay?” she asked, needing to know about the boy who’d been involved in the drive by shooting the other day.
His sensuous lips curved and her heart stuttered within her chest.
“He was extubated yesterday. They will probably remove the chest tube tomorrow,” he said.
“I’m so glad,” she said softly. They stood in an awkward silence for a few minutes as the silence stretched between them. “Well, um, apology accepted and thanks for today. You have no idea how much I needed to be here. I was going stir crazy at home.” Rachel turned to leave.
She got as far as the doorway when Devon gripped her upper arm and spun her around, pressing her against the doorjamb and fused her lips with his own. She gasped and he took full advantage by plunging his tongue inside. He kissed her deep and hard. She welcomed the first taste of him—raw, hungry, and full of need. So different than the sloppy drunken kiss he’d given her the night of Seamus’ death.
Rachel’s lips softened beneath the urgent pressure of Devon's, and an old familiar yearning stirred within her. How long since she'd last been kissed? Or let herself be swept away by desire?
Oh, God, too damn long.
A soft moan escaped her as her greed for him grew. Her purse dropped to the floor with a heavy thud while her arms wrapped around his neck and she tugged him closer against her. She poured all of her frustration, loneliness, and misery into the kiss, angling his head with her hands to take more. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew this was wrong. Wrong to take what he so willingly offered, but her selfish inner voice was driven away by her blinding need for the touch of another human being.
Devon’s rough hands skimmed under her T-shirt as if he craved closer contact, kneading her heated flesh. He groaned, his palms sliding up her back and removing the clip that held her hair in place where he tangled his fingers in the loose tendrils.
He pulled back and stared down at her. The deep blue of his eyes so dark, they seemed almost black. “There you are,” he whispered. “I feel like I’m meeting the real Rachel O’Dea for the first time. Not the nurse. Not the friend or caregiver, but the woman underneath it all. Flushed by my touch and so damn beautiful.”
A shiver shimmied along her spine and heat pooled low in her belly. “And do you like what you see?” she asked, breathless.
“Baby, you have no idea,” he rasped.
Leaving all reason behind, she captured his mouth with hers in a hungry kiss that conveyed all her deepest innermost desires.
She wanted him. No, she amended. She craved him. The fierceness of the thought terrified her, but not enough to stop.
His hips pinned her against the doorway, palming her ass with his large hands. Rachel’s arms looped around his neck as he lifted her off the ground. He backed her against the wall for more stability while her legs wrapped about his waist. She flexed against his erection. They groaned in unison. Wondrous sensations engulfed her. Who knew the guy had skills beyond those in emergency medicine?
His hands framed her face, thumb skimming her lower lip. “Come home with me,” he said against the shell of her ear, lightly nipping the lobe with his teeth.
“Devon,” she moaned. Her fingernails scraped over his scalp and this time it was his turn to shiver.
“I want you making that sound when I fuck you with my cock and taste you on my lips,” he rasped. “Hear you scream my name as you come all over my face.” He kissed down her throat and licked over the valley of her breasts exposed by the neckline of her T-shirt sucking, marking, claiming her skin as the roughness of his five o’clock shadow left delicious red marks in his wake.
Her legs slid to the ground and he dropped to his knees, lifting the soft cotton hem to expose the bare skin of her flat belly. He inhaled deeply before reaching for the fly of her jeans. Sanity chose that moment to make a come back. “Wait,” she said, voice shaky. “We can’t. Maria…”
“She left about an hour ago,” he said.
“I don’t think—” she began and he stood and silenced her with another toe-curling kiss.
Chapter Eleven
“Then don’t,” Devon said harshly. “Don’t fucking think at all.”
His cock was so hard and he was wound so tight, the sensation bordered on pain. Dropping to his knees, he shoved Rachel’s jeans down and held his breath in anticipation, consumed by her. The scent of her arousal slammed into his senses. He pressed his face against her damp panties and growled.
Taking the tiny strip of pink fabric between his teeth, he yanked until it gave way, baring her glistening flesh to his hungry view. Her bare mound was slathered with what seemed like hundreds of freckles and he couldn’t be more delighted. He wanted to taste and explore every single fascinating spot on her body.
Licking along her glistening seam he was rewarded by a sharp intake of breath. She tasted so fucking sweet he almost lost his shit and creamed his boxers.
“Devon, ooh…” Voice shaky with need, breathing hard, her fingernails dug into his scalp spurring him on. “That tongue,” she said between breaths. “Is a lethal weapon.”
