Authors: Teresa McCarthy
Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Women's Fiction, #Contemporary Women, #Romance, #Romantic Comedy, #Contemporary Fiction, #Christian, #Humor, #Sagas, #Contemporary, #Inspirational, #Series, #Westerns
Almost Midnight (24 page)
“Nurse Richards, I’m ordering you to let go of that gutter.” Dr. Rafe’s tone had move up a notch in impatience, the sweetheart pitch having disappeared completely.
If Candy weren’t in such a precarious position, she would have enjoyed a little bantering. Instead, she took a deep breath and let go. A few oomphs and Rafe fell to the ground with her landing on top of him.
Jeremy stood wide-eyed, staring at his uncle. “Gosh, he did it! My Uncle Rafe saved you!”
Candy swallowed hard and blinked. Rafe Clearbrook’s touch felt like fire. As he rolled from beneath her and placed her on the ground, his hands gently cupped her face, his breath warm against her ears.
“Candy, sweetheart, say something.”
Kiss me,
her heart whispered.
The sudden admission was like a smack in the face. She shook her head, wondering what was wrong with her. Her attraction to this man was more than disturbing, it was downright dangerous.
Instead of thanking him for saving her, she peered into his deep, silvery gaze and felt her blood surge. She closed her eyes, trying to steady her breath. One look from this man could turn her to mush.
Not again. Never again.
Instantly, she froze as his strong fingers skimmed her bare feet, checking for broken bones. An unexpected jolt of electricity shot through her leg, making her flinch.
Trouble. His kind meant nothing but trouble. She had learned that the hard way.
“Candy?” Jeremy called hesitantly.
She slowly lifted her lids higher and exchanged glances between Jeremy and his uncle. There had always been a maddening hint of arrogance about Rafe Clearbrook that irked her to no end. But whenever they locked gazes, it was that spark of awareness between them that scared her the most. And that devil-may-care lock of black hair that hung over his eyes didn’t help her case one bit.
“Candy,” Jeremy said again, squatting beside her, his eyes filled with tears. “I’m sorry I got you a ladder that wasn’t safe. I just wanted to have my baseball back. Please, say something.”
Candy’s heart turned over at the sight of regret in Jeremy’s eyes. It wasn’t his fault she decided to save the day and retrieve the ball. It was a stupid thing to do.
“Candy?” Rafe said, touching her forehead with a gentle hand. “I’m going to have to bring you into the hospital and examine you there. If you can’t speak, you might have some trauma to your head or even your neck. Possibly a concussion. Understand? Don’t move a muscle.”
Candy just needed another minute to catch her breath, that was all. But before she could say a word, Rafe pulled out his cell phone and called for an ambulance.
His hand stayed locked on her wrist, taking her pulse. Her blood was jumping like a jackhammer and not because of the fall.
She wasn’t hurt, just shaken, and there was no way she wanted this man examining her...and he was a man in every sense of the word. Oh, she had some aches and pains, and she would have some bruises tomorrow, but she didn’t think anything was broken.
Gathering her wits, she gave Jeremy a secret wink.
“Dr. Rafe,” she called sweetly.
Rafe looked down, pulled the cell phone away from his ear, relieved to see her talking. “Don’t move, sweetheart.”
“I’m fine. But there’s something I need to know.”
His face turned serious. “What’s that?”
“How much does Betty Spikes weigh?” she asked, batting her eyelids up and down like a besotted groupie.
Jeremy’s laughter bordered on hysterical.
Rafe turned as red as the sunset behind him. “Very funny.”
Fifteen minutes later, the door to the guest bedroom in the Clearbrook mansion clicked closed, and Candy knew that Rafe was gone.
The man had insisted on examining her in her bedroom or taking her to the hospital, but she assured him she felt fine. Words were batted about the room like a handball game, but in the end, she’d won.
No way was he putting another finger on her. Her blood pressure would have skyrocketed with just one more touch from the man. It was a miracle she hadn’t been badly hurt. Still, if she decided she needed to go to the hospital, she would drive herself or wait until Hannah came home.
Sighing, she turned her head to the smell of the soap that lingered by the door. Dr. Rafe had washed his hands and arms after the mishap, and the clean, fresh fragrance filled her senses.
She frowned as she removed the cold compress from her head and leaned toward her nightstand, pulling open the top drawer. She drew out the photograph of her dream house and placed it on her heart.
The quaint yellow house wasn’t much, but it would be hers, and no one could take it away from her. But where the house was small, it made up for in land. She could have a magnificent garden with a comfy little home. The whole package was perfect for her.
And nothing would keep her from her goal of securing her future. Nothing and no one, especially a handsome doctor like Dr. Rafe Clearbrook who could shatter her heart into a million pieces and not think anything about it at all.
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