SHE SHOULD BE used to it by now, and in many ways she was, yet tonight her parents’ attitude toward her and her work—her life—stung worse than ever.
For them to speak to and about her like that, in front of a man who not only was a stranger to them but also her colleague, had Nychelle seething in a maelstrom of anger and embarrassment.
As she made her way quickly through the hotel lobby toward the open terrace doors on the other side, she tried to unclench her fists and keep a pleasant expression on her face.
It was so hard.
Her father denigrated her so casually, as though nothing she’d worked for and achieved had any value. Oh, she knew it was what he thought—he’d made it known ad nauseam. But somehow tonight it had sounded worse than usual. Made her feel worse than usual. Not even reminding herself why she’d made the choices she had, and how close she was to fulfilling one of her most dearly held dreams, took away the hurt and sense of isolation.
Nychelle had long ago recognized her parents’ seeming inability to offer any kind of affection, knowing their every thought regarding their children was focused solely on career paths and advancement. She wasn’t built that way. Never had been. Oh, as a child she’d tried desperately to be what they wanted, constantly striving for perfection in the hope of getting positive attention from them. It had been soul-destroying—especially as she’d grown older and realized what they wanted her to be was vastly different from who she wanted to be.
Everything had changed when she was thirteen, and had been diagnosed with dysfunctional uterine bleeding. A D&C had been her final course of treatment, and the doctor had warned that conception might prove difficult later on, because of the scarring left on her uterus.
But it wasn’t the diagnosis that had caused her change of perspective; it had been her mother’s response to hearing it. Coldly and clinically, she’d expressed a kind of satisfaction. It was the perfect reason for Nychelle to concentrate completely on a career in medicine. There would be none of the potential stumbling blocks or distractions children often caused.
Nychelle shook her head, still unable to comprehend how such a well-regarded psychiatrist could have so little understanding of her own offspring. It was one of the universe’s great mysteries.
Maneuvering around a cluster of people near the doors, she slipped past and out into the warm night air. The long terrace was dotted with folks, many of whom were familiar to Nychelle. Hopefully keeping her gaze distant and her steps brisk, as though she was on her way somewhere important, would deter anyone inclined to speak to her. She really needed a little solitude to get her temper under control.
Near the middle of the terrace, some steps led down to a boardwalk above the sand at the ocean’s edge. Reaching them, she swerved to descend toward the beach, quickly leaving the lights of the patio behind as she went.
As soon as she was alone, she tilted her head back and released the sigh of anger and pain she’d been holding inside toward the full moon above, trying to let the sound of the water soothe her.
She’d tried so hard to get to a place of acceptance where her parents were concerned, but it was an ongoing battle—one she feared she’d never win and, as a result, often considered giving up on. They didn’t even attempt to understand her—why should she bother trying to understand and be tolerant of them? They might be at the top of their fields professionally, but as parents they were, in her book, dismal failures. They’d let her down and embarrassed her once again.
It all made her want to pound her fists on the wooden railing in front of her, but instead she took a deep breath. As she exhaled she tried to relax, but the memory of her father’s words kept digging at her, tightening her muscles.
Yet it also could be taken as another indication that she was doing the right thing. A sign that being married, or even in a long-term relationship before having children, was highly overrated. Her parents might have been married for almost thirty-five years, but they spoke to each other with the coolness of strangers. They treated their children as though they were ongoing work projects, rather than individuals whose particular talents and desires should be nurtured.
Once upon a time Nychelle had hoped to find a soul mate, a partner in every respect of the word, but having given her all to Nick, only to be completely betrayed, she’d given up that dream. No. She knew she had what it took to give her children everything they needed without any help. And if her parents ever tried to embarrass her children the way her father had just done to her, making someone else—virtually a stranger—feel it necessary to come to their defense...
She let out a little growl.
Thank goodness for Martin and Jennifer interrupting before her father had had a chance to answer David. Dr. Herman Cory, head of the world-renowned Maynard Heart Institute, wasn’t used to being challenged and didn’t like it one little bit. In fact, Nychelle would go so far as to say he hated it. And David had definitely thrown down the gauntlet.
A little smile broke through her anger at the memory. When last had anyone, even herself, stood up in defense of her life like that? She couldn’t remember. It showed David wasn’t intimidated by her parents, or out to worm his way into their good graces, and it made her like him all the more.
“I like you a lot, Nychelle, and I already think of you as a friend. But I have to be honest. Your dad is a piece of work.”
The sound of David’s voice was startling. She’d been so wrapped up in her thoughts she hadn’t heard him approach, and she was too embarrassed to face him.
“That he is.”
Trying to inject even a veneer of amusement into her voice was difficult, and she wasn’t sure she’d managed it. Keeping her gaze fixed on the creamy disc of the moon rising over the water, she continued, “My parents are both overachievers and they raised my sister and me to be the same. It irks them that I went my own way rather than follow the path they planned out for me.”
David’s chuckle was warm, as was the hand he cupped over the curve of her shoulder. “I understand. In a strange way, although our situations are very different, they’re also remarkably similar.”
Oh, Dr. Heat was living up to his name, if the little licks of flaming awareness tickling over the skin of her arm were anything to go by. The attraction she felt was impossible to ignore, but she had to disregard it. For her own sanity, if nothing else.
Yet she was unable to resist the lure of his voice and, wanting to see his face, tilted her head to look at him over her shoulder. Even with just the glow of moonlight, she was effortlessly trapped by his gaze, and it was a struggle to ask, “How so?”
“I come from a poor family. The town where I grew up was once a thriving mining center, but steadily declined over the years. My parents expected me to learn a trade—preferably become a mechanic so I could eventually take over my father’s shop. Imagine their shock when I decided I wanted to study medicine.”
There was a flash of his abbreviated smile, but there was genuine sadness behind it.
“I was ten when I first mentioned it, and they were horrified. No one in my family had ever gone to college, much less to med school. I don’t think they knew what to make of me. They still don’t.”
Dragging her gaze from his, she nodded, seeing the correlation—although to her mind it was tenuous. “I guess it all boils down to unmet expectations.”
“Exactly.”
His fingers tightened on her shoulder, just enough to bring her full awareness of them, and then relaxed.
“Our parents expected us to follow in their footsteps but we decided to forge our own course. None of them is comfortable with that, even though we’re successful and, I think, we’ve both turned out okay.”
“And not even, in my case, when they have another child happily following the life plan they laid out.”
The spurt of annoyance she experienced as she spoke was swiftly swamped by the sensation of his fingers soothingly tracing along the skin of her upper arm. It was impossible to continue speaking, and she was glad when David replied so she didn’t have to say anything more.
“Mine too.” David chuckled again.
A shiver of desire raced up her spine, and she barely heard him continue.
“My sister, Mary-Elizabeth, works with my dad now, and my little brother, Donny, is just about to get his master mechanic’s ticket. The family business is in good hands. But I want you to understand something...”
She waited for him to go on, trying to control the tremors fluttering in her belly. During the conversation he’d moved closer, and now his scent and heat, and the sheer sexiness of his voice, seemed to envelop her, ramping up the waves of arousal washing through her blood.
“I didn’t say what I did to your father for any reason other than I believe every word.”
His hand slid back up to her shoulder, and before she realized what he was planning he’d turned her to face him.
“You’re an amazing person. You excel at your job and you make the clinic so much more efficient than it could ever be without you. On top of that, you make the entire place brighter just with your personality. Any father would be proud and happy to have such an incredible daughter. If your father can’t appreciate how lucky he is, that’s his loss.”
Gratitude and something deeper, more intense, tightened her chest. His tone, matter-of-fact and sincere, made tears prickle behind her eyelids.
“Thank you.”
It was little more than a whisper, and instinctively she reached up to kiss his cheek, wanting to express in some tangible way how much she valued his words.
When her lips touched his skin, all the sounds of the party, the calling of the nocturnal frogs, even the wash and retreat of the waves faded. As though struck to stone, neither of them moved for a long moment, and then, with what sounded suspiciously like a curse, David turned his head and their mouths met.
A shock like hundreds of volts of electricity jolted through her at the first firm, delicious touch of his lips—and then everything stopped.
Her breath caught somewhere deep in her chest.
The racing of her heart stilled.
The world, the universe, seemed concentrated on that one stunning point of contact between them.
Then David was holding her, one hand on her nape, the other around her waist, pulling her close, and her body shuddered into hyperawareness, her heart galloping, breath rushing. With a light sweep his tongue requested entrance to her mouth and she opened for him instinctively, gladly. A rumble vibrated from his chest, through his lips and into hers, causing a cascade of sensation so intense Nychelle trembled from head to toe. Putting her arms around his neck was not only a way to get closer but also necessary to stop herself from melting into a puddle at his feet.
With each of her rushed inhalations came his scent, excitingly familiar and yet different, more intimate. Beneath her hands his shoulders flexed and, being held so close to his chest, she not only heard but felt the escalation of his breathing.
Need crashed through every cell of her body, bringing her nipples to tight, aching buds and causing yearning to bloom deep in her belly. It was more than mere craving. It was agonizing want, and it tore a gasp from her throat.
As though in response to that telling sound, David deepened the kiss. Nychelle pressed even closer, lost in the power of the desire building between them, which threatened to overwhelm her completely. David shifted, bringing one muscular thigh to rest between her legs, and as she felt his erection against her Nychelle arched into the contact, suddenly desperate for more—more of him, more of these out-of-control yet, oh, so decadent feelings.
His lips slid from hers, tracing a path along her jaw to the sensitive flesh below her ear.
“Nychelle...”
How had she never heard her name said that way before? As though it were the most beautiful word ever created? As though it were the code to unlock the door leading to every fantasy of fulfillment she’d ever had? Just the sound of it made her head fall back, baring her throat for the onslaught of his lips.
“Yes,” he growled, before taking advantage of what she offered and kissing down the tendons straining in her neck.
“Ahhh...” A soft, moaning sigh broke from her as those firm, determined lips found her collarbone. Already she was anticipating them on her breasts, imagining the pleasure as he kissed lower, and then lower still.
A burst of laughter came from the terrace above, loud enough to break through the fiery bubble of lust they were cocooned in, and they both stiffened.
“I think the waiter said they only allow smoking at the end of the boardwalk, so if you want to smoke those stinky cigars that’s where you’ll have to go.”
The woman’s voice carried clearly through the night air, but it took a moment for Nychelle’s befuddled mind to understand what she was saying.
Once she did, reality came crashing down, and she pushed David away as hard as she could.
* * *
Realizing they were about to have company, David cursed under his breath, and he had already started straightening when Nychelle’s hands found his chest and gave him a hard shove. Stepping back, he held on to her long enough to make sure she didn’t lose her balance, and then let go as though touching her burned his palms.
In truth, Nychelle had brought to life an inferno with her kisses. Shocked didn’t begin to describe how he felt about the instant devastating arousal just the touch of her lips had created. The intensity of his desire for her had awoken something deep inside him. Awakened needs so long suppressed he’d thought they’d completely died.
And everything about the emotions coursing through his veins told him it was so right as to be completely wrong.
He couldn’t afford to chance getting seriously involved again. The pain of losing Natalie and the destruction of his marriage as a result of that loss had left him damaged in a fundamental way. Desire was fine, but what he felt now seemed to go crazily beyond that into the danger zone.
He didn’t want to take the chance of losing another child, so he’d long ago decided it was better not to put himself in a position where it might happen. He’d only just gotten to know Nychelle, but somehow, deep inside, he sensed she posed a threat to all the decisions he’d made about his life going forward.
They stared at each other, and she seemed poised to dash away.
Forcing a deep breath into his lungs, he gathered all the calm he could muster. He needed to get her back at arm’s length.
“I suppose I should apologize.”
He was proud of how cool he sounded, even with his heart still crashing against his ribs.
“It was an impulse—probably brought on by the moonlight.”
Nychelle blinked, then looked up at the moon. “No, it was my fault for—”
“Look,” he interrupted, not wanting to prolong what might turn into a painful conversation. “I think the best thing is for us to just pretend none of this happened.”
He only just stopped a bitter bark of laughter from escaping. He’d suggested it, but in reality it would be easier to stop the moon from orbiting Earth than to forget the sensation of her body and her mouth, hot and eager, pressed to his.
“That’s a good idea.”
He heard her inhale and then let the air out with a whoosh.
“It shouldn’t have happened. We work together. Situations like this can cause so many problems, make life difficult at the clinic, even threaten my career.”
Her tone was brisk—the one she often used with patients or other members of staff. It wasn’t offensive at all, but each time she used it David could hear her putting distance between herself and the person she was talking to.
He tried to tamp down his irritation at her eager acquiescence. Wasn’t he the one who’d suggested they forget it?
Gritting his teeth at his own contrariness, he replied, “I completely understand what you mean. Too much of a risk for something as unimportant as one kiss shared in the moonlight.”
He thought she tensed for a moment, but then she relaxed again before replying, “Exactly.”
Desperate to bring some sort of normality back to their evening, he said the first thing that came into his still muddled head. “Glad to know my lunacy hasn’t chased you away.”
“Ha-ha-ha.” She brushed her hands over the front of her dress, as though making sure it hadn’t become disarrayed during their embrace. “So many studies say the supposed increase in incidents needing police or medical intervention during the full moon is just anecdotal, but when I worked in the ER it sure seemed real.”
“When I was doing my clinical residency in Chicago it seemed real to me too.” Unable to resist, he touched her arm, guiding her back toward the steps leading to the terrace. “There was always an increase in patients being admitted from the emergency room the day after a full moon.”
Near to the steps, and in the pool of light shining down from the terrace above, he paused. It felt wrong to leave things the way they were.
“By the way, I want to thank you again for agreeing to come with me tonight. Functions like this can be pretty awkward when you walk in alone.”
Nychelle glanced at him, and David suddenly wished he had a way to capture how amazing she looked bathed in moonlight, made mysterious and otherworldly by the attendant shadows. Not that he’d ever forget it. No, these moments they’d shared would definitely stick with him, he was sure.
“You’re welcome.” Her brows dipped together for a moment. “I meant it when I said you were doing me as much of a favor as I was you.”
There were shadows in her eyes, sadness in the set of her lips, and the memory of her mother’s lukewarm greeting and her father’s denial of her worth made anger spurt through him once more.
Why couldn’t they see how wonderful Nychelle truly was?
The impulse to see her smile again was irresistible, and without thinking it through he said, “Ha! Let’s see if you still feel that way after I step on your toes a few times on the dance floor.”
Her delicious giggle eased something in his belly, but he was kicking himself. So much for keeping her at arm’s length... At least for tonight.