The Winner Takes It All: Winning Back His Wife / In Her Rival's Arms / Royally Seduced

He would have the power not only to break her heart, but shatter it. She couldn’t allow that to happen.

Cullen wore a digital watch, but he swore he heard the seconds ticking by. He braced himself for Sarah’s rejection. He’d offered her a place to recover, but she’d reacted with wide-eyed panic, as if she was about to be sentenced to life in prison.

Stupid. Cullen balled his hands with a mix of frustration and resentment. He should never have made the suggestion. But she’d looked so damn miserable over the idea of the SNF, he’d had to do something. A good attitude was important in a patient’s recovery. He didn’t want her to experience any setbacks. Skilled nursing facilities had their role in patient recovery, but Sarah was better off elsewhere. He knew that as a trained physician. He knew that in his gut.

But no one was going to step up and offer Sarah an alternative. No one except him.

And she hadn’t even cared. At least not according to her anything-but-that reaction.

Might as well get the word sucker tattooed on him. He’d let their pleasant walks and hand-holding soften him up.

A buzzing sound disturbed the silence.

Dr. Marshall checked his pager. “I have to go. Tell the nurse your decision and have her relay it to me and the discharge planner.”

The surgeon strode out of the room without a glance back.

The minute the door shut, the tension in the air quadrupled. Cullen had faced challenges working as a doctor and as a mountain rescuer, but he’d never felt more out of his element than standing here with his wife, a wife who didn’t want him for a husband. Not that he wanted her, either, he reminded himself.

Sarah toyed with the edge of her blanket. Her hands worked fast and furiously, as if she were making origami out of cloth.

The silence intensified. Her gaze bounced from her cast to the colorful bouquet of wildflowers from MBVI to everything else in the room. Everything except him.

Hard to believe that at one time they were so crazy about one another they couldn’t keep their hands or lips off each other. Now she couldn’t bear to look at him.

He hated the way that gnawed at him. Time to face the music, even if a requiem played. “I’m only trying to help. Give you another choice.”

“I’m surprised you’d want me around.”

Her words cut through the tension with the precision of a scalpel. He was about to remind her she had been the one to ask for the divorce, but held his tongue because she was right. He didn’t want her around because she messed with his thoughts and his emotions, but he had to do the right thing here, whether he liked it or not. “I want you to recover. Get you feeling better and back on your feet in the shortest amount of time possible. That’s all.”

She studied him as if she were trying to determine what type of volcanic rock he might be. “That’s nice of you.”

Her wariness bugged him. “We’ve been getting along.”

Her lips parted. She pressed them together, then opened them again. “It’s just…”

He hated the hurt lying over his heart. “Would it be that awful for a few weeks?”

“No, not awful,” she admitted. “Not at all.”

Her words brought a rush of relief, but added to his confusion. “Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t want to be a burden.”

A burden was the last label he’d use for her. “You’re not.”

“You’ve put your life on hold this past week.”

“I won’t have to do that when I’m in Hood Hamlet. I can get back to work and my mountain-rescue unit.”

Sarah moistened her lips. “I didn’t think I was supposed to be alone.”

“Friends have offered to help.”

Her gaze narrowed. “So you won’t be around that much?”

“I work twelve-hour shifts at the hospital. The rescue unit keeps ready teams stationed on the mountain in May and June.”

“Oh.”

That single word didn’t tell him much. He rocked back on his heels. “So what do you think?”

“I appreciate the offer.”

“But—?”

Sarah squinted. “I…I don’t know.”

Her uncertainty sounded genuine. He had expected to hear a flat-out no.

She sank into her pillow. “Is it something I need to decide right now?”

“Dr. Marshall wants you to tell the nurse your decision. Arrangements have to be made if you choose a SNF.”

She rubbed her thumb against her fingertips.

“Attitude plays a role in healing,” he continued. “Hood Hamlet will be better for you in that regard.”

“Give me a minute to think about it.”

Cullen didn’t know why she needed more time or why he was trying so hard to convince her. Yes, he wanted to do the right thing, but her decision changed nothing. If she refused his offer, the next time they saw each other…They wouldn’t be seeing each other unless she challenged the divorce terms. The way it would have been if she hadn’t had her accident.

The bed dwarfed her body, making her look small and helpless. Strange, given she was the strongest women he knew next to Leanne Thomas, a paramedic and member of OMSAR.

Sarah grimaced.

Two long strides put him at the side of her bed. “Your head.”

She gave an almost imperceptible nod. “I may have overdone the walking today.”

His concern ratcheted. “Does anything else hurt?”

“Not any more than usual.”

Using the back of his hand, he touched her face. She wasn’t flushed, but a temperature could mean another infection. “You don’t feel warm.”

She closed her eyes. “My brain might be rebelling from having to work again. Think I probably need another nap.”

“Probably.”

But Cullen preferred to err on the side of caution. He checked the circulation of each finger sticking out from her cast. He wanted to blame his anxiousness on the Hippocratic oath, but he knew there was more to it than that. The more part revolved around Sarah. He wished it weren’t so. In time he hoped—expected—not to care or to be so concerned about her. Time healed all wounds, right?

She opened her eyes. “You always had a nice bedside manner.”

He didn’t want her words to mean anything. He hated that they did. “It’s easier with some patients.”

“With me?” she asked, sounding hopeful.

“Yes.”

Sarah’s lips curved into a slight, almost shy smile. “Thanks.”

He brushed hair off her face. “You’re welcome.”

Her eyelids fluttered like a pair of butterfly wings.

He remembered when she’d slept against him and her eyelashes had brushed his cheek. The urge to scoop her up in his arms and hold her close was strong, but he couldn’t give in to temptation. This woman had trounced his heart once. Whatever else he did, he couldn’t let himself fall in love with her again.

“I’m not trying to be difficult,” she said softly.

“You’re being yourself. I wouldn’t expect any less.”

But he expected more from himself.

Seeing Sarah injured and hurting brought out his protective instincts, but he had to be careful. He had to be smart about this, about her.

She’d claimed to love him right up to the day she brought up divorce. She’d lied about her feelings and let him down in the worst possible way.

He didn’t trust her. He couldn’t. No matter what she might do or say.

Memories and feelings he’d thought he’d buried deep kept surfacing. He liked keeping his emotions under wraps, but he found it much too easy to lose control around Sarah. He couldn’t wait for her to turn down his offer so he could be done with her.

She stared at him. “I don’t need any more time to decide. My goal is to recover as soon as possible. My apartment is too small for a caretaker to stay with me. A SNF would be too impersonal.”

The implication of her words set him on edge. “So that means…?”

“I’ll go to Hood Hamlet with you. If that’s still okay?”

It wasn’t okay, not with the way Cullen was feeling right now. His heart pounded and his pulse raced, as if he’d run to the summit of Hood post-holing through four feet of fresh snow. An adrenaline rush from physical activity, no problem. Adventures with calculated risks, fine. The way he was reacting to Sarah? Unacceptable.

Still, Cullen had made the offer. He wouldn’t go back on his word. But he would have to keep a tight rein on his emotions and remain in control. He clenched his teeth. “It’s fine.”

CHAPTER FOUR

GET SARAH HOME. Get her well. Get her back where she belonged.

Driving to Hood Hamlet on Highway 26, Cullen focused on the road and tried to ignore the woman seated next to him. Not an easy thing to do with the scent of her sweet, floral shampoo tickling his nostrils. He grasped the leather-covered steering wheel with his hands in the ten and two o’clock positions, exactly as he’d been taught in driver’s ed.

He’d rarely driven this way as a teenager. “Hell on Wheels” best described his brother’s and his driving styles back then. But after Blaine had overdosed, Cullen prided himself on doing things, including driving, the right way, the correct way, to make things easier on his grieving parents. He’d made some stupid mistakes in the past, but he hoped he wouldn’t make any more where Sarah was involved.

As he pressed harder on the accelerator to pass a semitruck, he fought the urge to sneak a peek at her. He’d done that too many times since leaving Seattle. Concentrating on the road in front of him was better. Safer. He flicked on the blinker to return to his own lane.

“You haven’t touched your milk shake,” Sarah said.

The meaningless, polite conversation of the past four hours made him wish for a high-tech transporter beam that could carry them to the cabin in less than a nanosecond. He’d settle for silence, even the uncomfortable kind of quiet that made you squirm while you struggled to think of something to say. He stretched his neck to one side, then the other. “I’m not that thirsty.”

Cullen hadn’t had much of an appetite since last night. He hadn’t slept much, either, tossing and turning until the sheets strangled him like a boa constrictor. He rolled his shoulders to loosen the bunched muscles.

“You’re missing out. My chocolate milk shake is delicious.”

Sarah sounded as though she was smiling. A quick glance her way—he couldn’t help himself—showed she wasn’t. Her lips were tight.

She stirred her drink with the straw. “Thanks for suggesting we stop.”

Making stops along the way had allowed her to walk around and change positions, but had added time to the drive. “You needed to stretch your legs.”

Their final stop hadn’t been all about Sarah. The truck had felt cramped. Confined. He’d needed some fresh air and space.

“If you’d rather have chocolate, we can trade.” She held out her cup to him. “I like vanilla.”

Memories of other road trips to rock climb flashed through his mind. Stopping to buy two different kinds of milk shakes had become the routine. Sharing them during the drive had been the norm. Pulling over to have sex had been his favorite break. Hers, too.

Whoa. Don’t go there. He tightened his grip on the steering wheel. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

“Suit yourself, but I’m willing to share.”

Her lips closed over the end of the straw sticking out of the cup. She sipped. Swallowed.

His groin twinged. Blood boiled. Sweat coated his palms.

Damn. He needed to cool off. Quickly. “I’m happy with mine.”

Cullen snagged his milk shake from the cup holder and sucked a mouthful through the straw. The cold vanilla drink hit the spot. A few more sips and his temperature might return to normal.

He was much too aware of her—from the way she glanced sideward at him to the crooked part in her hair. Things he shouldn’t notice or care about.

And he didn’t. Care, that is.

But now that she was an arm’s distance away, her feminine warmth and softness called to him like a PLB, personal locator beacon, beckoning in the night. Only, no one was lost. Nothing was lost except the impulsive, reckless side of who he used to be. The side Sarah brought out in him. The side he had buried alongside his brother.

Sure, Cullen missed the sex. What man wouldn’t? But he’d been surviving without it. Without her. Celibacy was the better choice for now. Blaine had lost himself in drugs. Cullen had seen what losing control did to a man, to his brother. He wouldn’t lose himself in Sarah.

He returned his drink to the cup holder. Maybe if he didn’t say anything to her, she wouldn’t talk to him.

“Is Hood Hamlet much farther?” Sarah asked.

So much for that tactic. He gritted his teeth. “Twenty-five minutes if we don’t hit any traffic.”

“That sounds pretty exact.”

He’d been checking the clock on the dashboard every five minutes for the past two hours. “I drive this way to the hospital.”

“You work in Portland, right?” she asked.

Great, more small talk. “Gresham. Northeast of the city.”

“A long commute.”

“Twelve-hour shifts help.”

“Still a lot of driving,” she said. “Why do you live so far away?”

He tapped his left foot. “I like Hood Hamlet.”

“There have to be closer places.”

“Yes, but I prefer the mountain.”

“Why?”

“It’s…”

“What?”

“Charming.”

“You’ve never been one for charming,” she said. “You thought Leavenworth was, and I quote, ‘a Bavarian-inspired tourist trap on steroids.’”

He had said that of the small town on the eastern side of the Cascade Mountains. “I liked climbing there.”

“Nothing else.”

He’d liked spending time with her in Leavenworth. A glance at the speedometer made him ease up on the gas pedal. “Hood Hamlet is different.”

“Different, how?”

“There’s something special about it.”

“Special?”

He nodded. “Almost…magical.”

She half laughed as if the joke was on him. “When did you start believing in magic?”

He understood her incredulous tone. A year ago he would have laughed at such a thought himself. After Blaine died, Cullen’s belief in any kind of “magic” had died, too. He hadn’t believed in anything that wasn’t quantifiable—whether it was a diagnosis or a cure. Everything had to have an explanation. The one thing in his life that defied reason—his relationship with Sarah—had blown up in his face. “It’s hard not to believe when you’re there. A lot of people feel the same way.”

“Must be something in the water,” she joked.

A trained scientist like Sarah wouldn’t understand. He’d been the same way until three things had changed his mind—the rescue of two climbers trapped in a snow cave last November, the town pulling off its Christmas Magic celebration in mid-December and Leanne Thomas getting engaged on Christmas Day. The three events had defied logic, but had happened anyway. “Maybe.”

“The mountain air, perhaps,” she teased.

“You never know.” But he knew it was neither of those things.

“Whatever it is, I hope it’s not contagious.”

“I have no doubt you’re immune as long as Mount Hood remains dormant.”

He expected her to contradict him, if only to argue with him. She didn’t.

“What else does the town have beside magic?” Sarah asked.

“The people. It’s a great community.” He’d realized how supportive they truly were with the numerous offers of help following Sarah’s accident. “Very welcoming to strangers. That’s how I ended up moving there. I’d driven up to Mount Hood on a day off. I had lunch at the local brewpub and met the owner, Jake Porter. When he found out I was involved with mountain rescue in Seattle, he told me about their local unit, OMSAR. He invited me to go climbing, and we did. I met a few more people. One told me about a cabin for rent. Next thing I knew, I was signing my name on a year lease.”

“That’s serendipity, not magic.”

“Semantics,” he countered.

“A year lease is a commitment.”

“It’s worked out fine.”

“That’s great, but I prefer a month-to-month lease.”

Of course she would. A month-to-month marriage would have been her first choice if that had been allowed. “You’ve always liked to give yourself an out with everything you do.”

Sarah stiffened. “I know better than to back myself into a corner.”

She’d always been independent, but she sounded defensive, as if the world were against her. He hadn’t meant to attack her. “Someone might be there to help you escape.”

“I’d rather not deal with the consequences if they’re not.”

So jaded. He hoped their separation hadn’t done this to her. “People can surprise you.”

“They usually do, but not in the way I expect.”

Cullen wasn’t sure what she meant, but the tip of a knife seemed to be pressing against his heart. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer, but curiosity compelled him to ask the question. “Does that include me?”

“Yes.”

The knife pierced his heart. Her answer shouldn’t have surprised him. She was impulsive and impatient with a tendency to erupt like the volcanoes she loved so much. He’d tried to take care of her when they were married, but she’d pushed him away. He’d tried to make her happy, but she never seemed happy enough. A lot like Blaine. Cullen’s jaw tightened to the point of aching. “Care to elaborate?”

“You’ve been great about my accident.” Gratitude shone in her eyes. “I wasn’t expecting that.”

He felt the tension in his jaw ease. “Couples in our situation can be friendly to each other.”

She nodded. “Especially when divorce is what we both want.”

The knife dug a little deeper into his heart. “It is.”

A cheery love song played on the radio. The upbeat tempo was the antithesis of how he felt. He fought the urge to press the power switch so the music would stop.

“I’m glad you found the place you belong,” Sarah said.

“Hood Hamlet is the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.” He remembered the list he’d put together of places they could live after he finished his residency. Portland had been near the top because of the Cascades Volcano Observatory in nearby Vancouver, Washington, but he’d never considered Mount Hood. And wouldn’t have if they’d stayed together. “The only drawback is everyone wants to know everybody’s business.”

She clucked her tongue. “Typical small town.”

“I sometimes forget how small.”

“Does that mean people are going to be talking about us?” He took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “They already are.”

“Why is that?”

Cullen shouldn’t have said anything. His stomach roiled.

“Why?” Her voice rose.

His palms sweated. He wiped one on his jeans. “No one in Hood Hamlet knew I was married until your accident.”

Her mouth gaped. She closed it. “Why didn’t you tell them?”

He didn’t want to admit he’d been nursing a wound so deep when he arrived in town he wasn’t sure he would recover. But he had. And he was doing fine until she’d crashed back into his world. “You were no longer a part of my life. I could start over in Hood Hamlet with a clean slate once the divorce was finalized.”

The color drained from her face. Hurt clouded her eyes. “You pretended to be single.”

Her tone and stiff posture put him on the defensive. “Not intentionally.”

She turned toward the window.

“Hey, I’m not the bad guy here.” He lowered his voice. “Don’t forget you’re the one who brought up a divorce.”

“True, but you agreed,” she countered. “And I didn’t move to a new town and act like I was single.”

“I didn’t act that way, either,” he explained.

She stared at her cast with a downtrodden gaze. “Sure you didn’t.”

“I didn’t.” Her reaction surprised him. They’d been separated and hadn’t seen each other for almost a year. Divorce was a mere formality. “What were people supposed to think? I moved to Hood Hamlet alone. I wasn’t wearing a wedding band. No one asked if I’d been married, so I saw no a reason to tell them.”

Sarah had grasped her milk shake so hard she’d put a dent in the cup. “If they had asked?”

Not carrying around the baggage of a failed marriage had helped him move on. He’d never expected anyone, including Sarah, to find out. But by trying to make things easier on himself over this past year, he’d made them harder now. For Sarah, too. “I would have told the truth.”

She bit her lower lip. “No wonder people are talking.”

“Friends were with me when you were in ICU. They had questions.”

She lifted her chin. “What do your friends know about our situation?”

“Not much.”

“Cullen…”

She sounded more annoyed than hurt. But he wouldn’t call that progress. “They know we’ve been separated for almost a year but are together now.”

She drew back with alarm. “Together?”

“For now.”

Her mouth twisted.

“While you recover,” he clarified.

“Well, I hope it won’t take me long to get better so you can make your fresh start in Hood Hamlet and I can get back to Mount Baker.”

At least they agreed on something. “Me, too. Except you can’t rush through your recovery. If you focus on one day at a time, you’ll get to where you’re supposed to be.”

And so would he.

Then they could both get on with their lives separately.

Cullen couldn’t wait for that to happen.

Sarah couldn’t wait to arrive in Hood Hamlet. The drive had been uncomfortable and painful to her injuries, but also to her heart. She couldn’t change what had happened with Cullen. She could only learn from her mistakes and move forward with her life. That was what she needed to do. He already seemed to have done that. She hated that knowing he’d moved on twisted up her insides.

She stared out the truck’s window. The highway snaked up Mount Hood, giving panoramic views of the tree-covered mountainside. The dark green of the pines contrasted with the cornflower-blue sky. Breathtaking. She couldn’t get Cullen’s image out of her head.

He’d shaved, removing the sexy stubble from his face. But he still looked totally hot, with the strong profile she knew by heart, warm blue eyes fringed by thick dark lashes that danced with laughter and lush lips perfect for kisses.

Had been perfect. Past tense.

A ballad played on the radio. The lyrics spoke of heartbreak and loneliness, two things she was familiar with.

But Sarah knew she and Cullen were better off apart. He’d found the place he belonged—Hood Hamlet. She’d never had that, not even when they’d lived together. Once she finished her postdoc she would keep looking until she found the haven she’d been searching for her whole life.

After a childhood of being shuttled between parents and stepparents as if she were a smelly dog no one wanted, she didn’t need much. Nothing big and fancy, just a place where she belonged and mattered. Where she was loved.

She’d thought she found that with Cullen, but she’d been wrong. After a few months of marriage she’d seen the familiar signs. But she was older and wiser and knew what was going to happen. Only, this time she didn’t have to wait to be shuffled off and abandoned. She could be the one to leave before that happened.

Cullen touched her forearm. “Sarah…”

She jumped. The seat belt kept her in place, but her cast hit the door with a thud.

“You okay?” he asked.

Anxiety rose like the pressure building inside Yellowstone’s Old Faithful. But Sarah couldn’t afford to erupt. She swallowed around the caldera-size lump in her throat. The stronger she appeared, the more in control, the sooner she could return to Bellingham and work. She nodded, afraid her voice might quiver like her insides.

“We’re coming into Hood Hamlet,” he said.

He flicked on the left-hand blinker. The traffic heading west slowed. He turned onto a wide street. A gas station and convenience store sat on one corner, and trees lined the left side of the road, the treetops glistening in the sun. A short distance away she saw the peaks of roofs.