Danger Calls. Caridad Pineiro
you’ve been his keeper…Do you think we can call you something else? Like his companion, maybe?”
“A rose by any other name—”
“Do you resent it?”
“It’s what I have to do.”
“Why?” he challenged with a cocky shrug.
“Because it’s my duty. Because my family has honored that call for nearly six generations.” Suddenly she had the urge to leave. The conversation was exposing too much to a virtual stranger. This meeting was supposed to have been about him helping, not about her. “Come to think of it, it’s time I returned to the hospital.”
She began to rise, but Sebastian laid a hand on her arm and applied gentle pressure to keep her beside him. She stared at his hand and followed the line of his muscled arm until her gaze met his. “I have to—”
“No, you don’t. In fact, rumor has it that the only two things you have to do are die and pay taxes. Only I guess you don’t have to die, do you?” His voice trailed off at the end, as if he, too, realized what an awkward situation they were in.
“If you’re like Ryder, time doesn’t matter.” But it mattered to her and to this man sitting beside her, looking at her way too seriously and with too much compassion.
“I respect what you feel about honoring your family’s loyalties, only—”
“It’s an outdated concept in today’s world, where anyone can do anything and not worry about the consequences?”
As if she hadn’t harshly interrupted, Sebastian calmly continued, “I know how hard it is. I just wish that you could find some peace with that duty. With what you want most for you, in here.” He emphasized that statement by pointing to the spot above his heart.
Melissa struggled for something to say, something that could break the connection she was experiencing with him, only she couldn’t find the words.
At her prolonged silence, he finally said, “When did you find out what Ryder was?”
“I’m not sure I like all these questions,” she replied softly.
Sebastian laid a hand on her arm. “I just need to know more before I commit.”
Seeing that he wasn’t going to give up, Melissa relaxed against the back of the bench. Sebastian removed his hand from her arm. Funny how she sensed the absence of it. Of the quiet strength in his long slender fingers. “I found out about Ryder a little over a year ago. When my parents died.”
“Is that when—”
“I became his…personal physician,” she answered and shot a quick look at him to gauge his reaction.
He smiled as she acquiesced to his earlier request, but then he became serious once more. “You resent it, don’t you?”
“Broken record time. I think you asked that already.”
He held up a finger. “But you didn’t really answer.”
Maybe she hadn’t answered because she didn’t want to discuss it. Especially not with Sebastian. She had given him her body, but she was afraid of giving him more.
“This is the point where I should realize this is something you’d rather not discuss,” he said.
Melissa hated the tension between them. Trying to ease the strain, she adopted a lighthearted tone. “I would very much appreciate a change of topic.”
He smiled sadly, but the sadness faded as he leaned his head against the padded bench, clearly thinking about something.
Melissa was suddenly impatient to hear what he would say next, and realized she liked that he was unpredictable.
“Okay, so let’s talk about your favorite kind of food.”
The very abrupt change in subject threw her, but brought a hesitant smile to her lips. “And why would we want to do that?”
He turned the full force of his gaze on her. Her heart did that funky thing again in the middle of her chest.
“So I know what kind of restaurant to take you to.”
His interest shouldn’t have pleased her. She didn’t have time for a normal life. She couldn’t become involved with him. He was carefree, fun…young. Not the kind of guy who’d want to live her kind of life. Despite that, she found herself exercising a rarely used skill—flirtation.
“What makes you think I’d want to go?” She bestowed on him her best come-hither smile. Or at least, she hoped it was that and not a grimace. Her smile muscles felt stiff.
Sebastian scrutinized her face, obviously unsure of where he stood, before shooting her a quick grin. “Let’s just say that I know you want to go, but that you also want to keep it all business. So we will.”
“We will what?” she asked, perplexed.
“Keep it business. You can tell me more about the journals while I think about what equipment we need and how I’ll program things.”
She shouldn’t have been disappointed. He was doing the right thing, just as he had done the morning after. He hadn’t pressed, almost as if he’d realized she was uncertain about all they had shared the night before. Instead, he’d been tender and concerned, tracing the dark circle beneath one eye and excusing himself so she could rest.
She suddenly wanted to know more about this complex rebel with a gentle touch and a heart that…She stopped herself. She shouldn’t be thinking about things of the heart. She’d never been good with emotion and now, as Ryder’s doctor, there was even less space for that in her life. “Maybe you should just come over to the apartment and do whatever you need to. That might be better.”
After a long pause, he said, “I could bring food so we could eat while we talk. So is it Italian?”
Melissa chuckled at his stubbornness. “Yes. With lots of garlic. And garlic bread. Maybe even Parmesan garlic salad dressing.”
He laughed. “It’s tough caring for a vampire, isn’t it?” he said.
Melissa nodded. “So about this business meeting…”
Chapter 4
Sebastian struggled with what to wear, not sure of the message he wanted to send. If he had been meeting a client, he’d replace the T-shirt and faded jeans with more suitable attire. Of course, since Melissa had not mentioned remuneration, and even if she had he would have refused it, he wasn’t quite certain she would fall into the client category.
He grabbed an X-Files T-shirt but didn’t put it on. After all, he wanted her to take him seriously, even if the only kind of relationship they had was a professional one. At least for now. Sebastian couldn’t help hoping the good doctor was battling a personal desire having nothing to do with work.
The T-shirt suddenly seemed juvenile. Or was it the ghost of his father whispering in his ear? Tossing the shirt aside, he rifled through his closet and finally settled on a sharply pressed pair of khaki slacks, a cream-colored button-down shirt and a russet suede blazer to chase away an early winter chill.
After he was finished, he examined himself in the mirror. The colors of the shirt and blazer looked good on him. And he was glad he’d gotten a haircut. His hair was cropped short around his ears, but left longer at the top. He’d removed his earring and the bracelet and rings he normally wore. He looked neater, more put together. More respectable, the annoying voice in his head urged.
Sebastian ignored it and walked the few blocks from his apartment to Little Italy. He picked up the meal he had ordered earlier, complete with mozzarella-topped garlic bread. After, he flagged a cab on the narrow street in front of the restaurant, and the taxi made great time in getting to Ryder and Melissa’s apartment on Sixty-Sixth Street, right off Second Avenue.
Sebastian