Nights of Passion

‘It’s Joe,’ he amended mildly. Then, ‘It’s not my permanent address, no. But I have a condo out on Miami Beach that I use when I’m visiting the city.’

Rachel wanted to ask where his permanent address was, but it wasn’t anything to do with her. Nevertheless, remembering how impressed Daisy had been by the house she’d visited in London, she couldn’t prevent herself from saying, with unknowing wistfulness, ‘I expect you have a lot of homes.’

‘One or two,’ he conceded, not wanting to talk about himself. ‘Tell me, when did you hear about the accident?’

Rachel’s eyes widened. ‘Last night. Why?’

Joe managed to hide his astonishment. The kid’s accident had occurred three days ago. In Steve’s place, he’d have let Rachel know at once. Particularly in the circumstances. ‘I guess you must have booked your seat on the next flight?’

‘Yes, I did.’

Rachel felt troubled now. Joe’s expression wasn’t always readable, but there was something in his face that made her add urgently, ‘Why do you ask?’

‘No reason.’

Joe’s eyes darkened, lingering on her face with a warmth and intensity that brought an embarrassing wave of colour into her cheeks. Looking at him now, she could hardly believe how intimate they’d once been. And while he was probably used to doing whatever the hell he liked, she most definitely wasn’t.

Only he mustn’t know that.

Dragging her eyes away from his lean, disturbing face, she forced herself to remember why she was here: Daisy. Her daughter should be her prime concern, and she doubted she’d be too impressed to learn that her mother was dwelling on the possible actions of a man she’d convinced herself she didn’t even like. Although with his hip only inches from hers, and the remembered awareness of how he’d made her feel when he’d thrust his tongue into her mouth, those sentiments seemed decidedly suspect.

She felt so hot suddenly, a bead of sweat trickling down between her breasts. Which was ridiculous, considering the coolness of the car. To distract herself, she tried to find some interest in the buildings that lined the other side of the wide boulevard: neo-classical styles fighting for space between modern high-rises, the occasional square of parkland a welcome splash of greenery.

‘Um, Palm Cove,’ she murmured, aware that Joe was still watching her. ‘Is it much farther?’

‘Not far.’ Joe shifted forward in his seat and her heart leapt into her throat. But although his thigh briefly brushed hers, all he did was open a small chilled cabinet set beneath the polished console opposite. Inside was a selection of sodas and mixers, and gesturing, he said, ‘Are you thirsty?’

Rachel’s mouth was dry, but she doubted a drink would cure it. Still, the sight of the frosted bottles was appealing, and she said a little breathlessly, ‘Do you have mineral water?’

‘Water?’ Joe studied the contents of the cabinet. ‘Yeah, sure. There you go.’ He handed her a bottle. ‘You need a glass?’

‘Oh—no.’ Rachel unscrewed the cap with some difficulty. Her fingers were hot and slippery, but thankfully he didn’t offer to do it for her. ‘This is fine.’

‘Good.’ Joe closed the cabinet again and lounged back in his seat. Then, his eyes on the slender column of her throat visible above the open neck of her cotton shirt, he added, ‘You do know that’s where Steve and Lauren live? Palm Cove, I mean.’

Rachel almost choked on the water. ‘No,’ she gasped, when she was able. ‘No, I didn’t.’ The last address she’d been given was the apartment—or condo—they’d occupied in Miami itself.

‘Oh, yeah.’ Joe wondered what else Steve hadn’t told her. ‘They share the Johansen mansion with Lauren’s old man. His wife died a couple of years ago, and I guess he got tired of rattling round that old place on his own.’

Rachel’s tongue circled her lips. ‘So Daisy’s been staying there, too?’

Joe frowned. ‘That bothers you?’

‘Not exactly.’ Rachel made a helpless gesture. ‘I just wish I’d known, that’s all.’

Joe hesitated. ‘But you know about the accident, right?’

‘Well, I know she fell off the Johansens’ yacht and hit her head,’ replied Rachel at once. ‘And that she apparently wasn’t wearing a life jacket. I’ll certainly take that up with her father, if I get the chance.’ She paused. ‘I don’t suppose you have any idea when she’ll be allowed to leave the hospital? I mean, if she’s been there three days already …’

Joe stifled an oath. This was what he’d been afraid of. Evidently, his address wasn’t the only thing Steve had kept from his ex-wife, and now Joe was faced with the unpleasant task of having to tell her himself or allowing her to walk into her daughter’s room, totally blind to the circumstances of her condition.

He’d been silent too long and Rachel wasn’t a fool. She’d noticed his expression and now she demanded, ‘Why are you looking so grim?’ She swallowed. ‘What do you know that I don’t?’

Joe blew out a breath. Steve was going to hear about this, he thought savagely. Right now, he felt like pushing the other man’s teeth down his throat. It would have given him an immense amount of satisfaction, not to mention relieving a little of his own frustration.

Obviously Rachel had come here unaware of what had happened after Daisy had been helicoptered to the hospital in Palm Cove. She had no idea that Daisy’s injuries had been considered too serious to be dealt with by the Emergency Room doctors and that Daisy had been transferred to a specialist neurological unit attached to the far more expensive facility patronised by the Johansens.

‘Look,’ he said carefully, ‘First off, Daisy’s going to be fine.’

‘Why doesn’t that reassure me?’

‘But she won’t be leaving hospital for a few days yet.’

‘Why not?’ Rachel felt the water she’d just swallowed churning around in her stomach. My God, what had really happened? What had they kept from her? She should have guessed it had been something more serious than a simple blow to the head. ‘Please,’ she said, unthinkingly putting a hand on his knee. ‘You’ve got to tell me.’

Despising the inappropriate response his body was having to those soft, damp fingers clinging to his leg, Joe gently but firmly removed them. But he kept her hand between both of his as he said, ‘She had to have an operation—’

‘An operation!’

Rachel looked horrified and he couldn’t blame her. He knew a momentary urge to comfort her, to pull her into his arms and hold her close, but he determinedly suppressed it. He knew where that could lead.

‘It was just a small operation,’ he said, smoothing her knuckles with his thumb. ‘There was some pressure and it had to be relieved. But as I say, she’s making great progress.’

Rachel was trembling. He could feel it. The hand he was holding was shaking uncontrollably and, abandoning any hope of remaining objective, Joe slipped his hand around her neck and pulled her towards him.

She didn’t resist, probably because she was too shocked to notice what was happening. She pressed her hot face into the hollow of his throat and, seconds later, he felt her tears soaking the front of his shirt.

‘God, Rachel,’ he muttered, his hands tightening automatically, and then Luther turned and saw them.

The chauffeur knew better than to show any emotion, but Joe realised that during the upheaval of the last few minutes they had reached their destination. The rather tawdry blue-painted facade of the Park Plaza hotel was visible just across the intersection and Luther was waiting for further instructions.

With some reluctance, Joe withdrew his arms and, allowing her to rest against the supple upholstery, he lowered the screen an inch or two to speak to the other man. ‘Let’s go straight to the hospital, Luther,’ he said briskly, and the chauffeur didn’t demur.

Rachel had found a tissue in her handbag and was engrossed in repairing the damage caused by her tears. She didn’t meet Joe’s eyes, but he knew she was as aware of what had almost happened as he was. If Luther hadn’t turned at that moment, Joe knew he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from kissing her. And that would have been a totally unforgiveable thing to do. Damn it, she needed support, not seduction.

He scowled. He didn’t know what the hell was wrong with him. She was so not his type. He’d always gone for sophisticated women before; women who, like him, knew the score. Not inexperienced females with one failed relationship behind them and more baggage than he cared to consider.

Yet, when he looked at Rachel, he didn’t see a woman who was older than he was and who already had a child. He saw a warm, vulnerable female who, he had to admit, got to him in a way none of his other girlfriends ever had. Sitting there in her travel-stained trousers and creased shirt, her heat-dampened blonde hair spilling untidily about her shoulders, she aroused emotions he would have sworn he didn’t possess.

He stifled a groan. Now was so not the time to be having these kind of thoughts. Raking a hand over his own hair, he gripped the back of his neck with a tormented hand. He could feel the tension in his muscles, the tautness in his spine. And knew if he could get his hands on Steve at that moment.

But he couldn’t. And he had to deal with it. Even if the kind of temptation Rachel presented drove him crazy in the process.

CHAPTER EIGHT

WHEN the car started moving again, Rachel realised that they weren’t turning into the forecourt of the Park Plaza hotel.

She’d glimpsed the facade of the building across the intersection as she’d dried her eyes, and had assumed Luther was just waiting for the traffic signals to change in their favour before he made his move. But when the vehicle started away it ignored the entrance to the hotel, continuing down the thoroughfare they’d been travelling on before.

‘But, wasn’t that—?’ she began, only to have Joe interrupt her.

‘I thought you might prefer to go straight to the hospital,’ he said, settling back beside her. ‘I know Daisy’s eager to see you.’

‘Is she?’ Tears pricked Rachel’s eyes again, but she determinedly blinked them away. She’d already made a fool of herself by breaking down in front of him. She just hoped he didn’t think she was putting on an act for his benefit. ‘So—so how serious was this operation?’

Joe blew out a sigh. ‘Fairly serious,’ he said, after a moment. ‘As I said before, there was some pressure on her brain and it had to be relieved.’

Rachel couldn’t prevent her gasp of horror. ‘My God! No wonder Steve was so reluctant to let me know what had happened.’

‘Yeah, well.’ Joe tried to be pragmatic. ‘It’s possible he wanted to wait until she’d had the operation before he called you. Until the crisis was over, so to speak.’

‘You think?’

Rachel looked at him with rain-washed green eyes and Joe knew he couldn’t lie to her. ‘Okay, maybe not,’ he conceded. ‘I guess he didn’t want to admit he’d screwed up. All I can say in his defence is that as soon as it was realised that she needed specialist treatment he had her transferred to a neurological unit that’s used to dealing with head injuries.’

Rachel’s eyes widened. ‘So she’s not at the hospital near the Park Plaza?’

‘She’s at another facility in the town,’ he explained evenly. ‘She’s had the best treatment money can buy, I can vouch for that.’

Rachel caught her lower lip between her teeth. ‘I booked into the Park Plaza hotel because it was near the hospital,’ she murmured, half to herself. And then, realising he was listening to her, she said quickly, ‘How much further do we have to go?’

‘Not far.’ Joe had to suppress the urge to take her in his arms again. He couldn’t forget that, if he hadn’t gone to meet her at the airport, she’d still be totally in the dark. He saw the white walls of the Steinberg Clinic ahead of them and moved forward again to speak to the chauffeur. ‘Pull under the portico, will you, Luther? Then, after you’ve dropped us off, find somewhere to park, okay?’

‘Yes, sir.’

Despite the fact that Rachel had the car door open before either Luther or his employer could forestall her, the two men both came to offer their assistance. ‘I can manage, thanks,’ she insisted tensely, but this time Joe didn’t hesitate before gripping her wrist.

‘I’m coming with you,’ he said, and they walked through the automatic glass doors into the clinic together. ‘Humour me. I’m familiar with the form here. You’re not.’

Although Rachel wanted to object, it turned out she was grateful for his presence after all. There was an armed security guard just inside the doors who might well have questioned her identity, and a glamorous receptionist manning the desk who was unlike any hospital receptionist she had ever seen before.

Happily they both recognised Joe, and after some embarrassing affectation on behalf of the receptionist, they were instantly allowed to enter the lift, which was controlled by yet another security guard.

Rachel looked up at Joe as the lift ascended, aware she’d been something less than appreciative of his help. ‘Thanks,’ she said, touching his arm with a tentative finger. ‘I guess I owe you one.’

A knot twisted in Joe’s belly, but he managed to keep his tone light as he said, ‘I’ll let you know when I want to collect, shall I? ‘And for the first time since he’d told her about Daisy’s operation a small smile tilted the corners of her far too delectable mouth.

The lift stopped at the second floor and they stepped out onto a beige-carpeted landing. A nurse’s station was situated opposite, and there were swing doors giving access to the private rooms at either side of the hallway.

There were two nurses on duty when they approached, and, recognising Joe, one of them—a curvaceous redhead whose uniform bodice was open to reveal a very impressive cleavage—came to greet them. ‘Have you come to see Daisy again, Mr Mendez? I hope she realises what a very lucky girl she is.’

Her eyes had flickered over his companion as she spoke, and Rachel guessed she was wondering what he was doing with someone like her. Ironically, the nurse herself was much more his type, and she’d probably decided that they’d merely shared a lift together.

‘Actually, I’ve brought her a very special visitor,’ remarked Joe drily. ‘This is Daisy’s mother. From England. Is it okay if we go straight in?’

‘Oh!’ To say the nurse was startled would have been a vast understatement. ‘Oh, yes. Yes, go ahead. Dr Gonzales is on his way to see her, but I don’t suppose he’ll object to her mother visiting her.’

‘Good.’

Joe took hold of Rachel’s arm just above her elbow and guided her towards the swing doors to the right of the nurses’ station. Pushing open one of the doors with his free hand, he allowed her to precede him into a discreetly lit corridor with maybe half a dozen rooms situated along its wide expanse.

Rachel noticed that all the patients’ rooms seemed to be on one side of the corridor, with double doors to emergency facilities and operating theatres located opposite. It was very luxurious, very quiet, and Rachel couldn’t help a twinge of anxiety that Daisy had had to be treated at such a place.

‘This is Daisy’s room,’ murmured Joe, indicating the third door down. ‘I won’t come in with you. You’ll appreciate a few minutes on your own.’ He paused and then, with an unexpected thickening of his tone, he added, ‘Don’t take any notice of the way she looks. She’s going to be fine, I promise.’

Rachel opened her mouth to ask what he meant. But he was already striding back towards the swing doors, and the atmosphere of the place didn’t encourage raised voices. Instead, with a deep breath, she put her hand on the handle of the door and pressed down.

Daisy looked lost in the huge hospital bed, her face, what Rachel could see of it, almost as white as the pillows behind her. Rachel had been expecting bruising; what she hadn’t expected was the bandage that circled Daisy’s forehead, or the swelling around her eye that gave her face a lopsided appearance.

Her heart leapt into her throat and she felt the treacherous sting of tears threatening to betray her again. But she remembered what Joe had said, and the advice implicit in his words, and controlled herself. She mustn’t let Daisy see how upset her appearance had made her, and stepping into the room, she said, ‘Now what have you been doing with yourself?’ in a soft but teasing tone.

Daisy had been lying on her side, staring out of the windows, which Rachel now saw overlooked the gardens at the back of the clinic. Lawns, flowerbeds and pleasant tree-shaded walkways provided a recreational area for patients who were well enough to go outside, and there were still one or two people enjoying the somewhat watery sunshine that had broken through the clouds.

Daisy turned her head at the sound of her mother’s voice, and if Rachel had had any doubts about coming, they dissolved at that moment. Daisy’s face crumpled, and she held out a trembling hand towards her mother. Rachel didn’t hesitate before hurrying across the room to take it, then cupped her daughter’s face with fingers that were predictably unsteady.

‘Oh, Daisy,’ she said, pressing her lips together briefly before bending to kiss the girl’s bruised cheek. ‘Baby, I’m so glad to see you.’

‘Me too,’ sniffed Daisy, clinging to Rachel’s fingers. ‘Oh, Mum, it’s been so awful! They had to drill a hole in my head and they had to shave off half my hair.’

‘I know, I know, darling.’ Rachel struggled to hide her anxiety. ‘But it sounds as if you’ve had the best treatment possible, and that’s the important thing.’

‘I don’t like hospitals,’ said Daisy at once, her eyes brimming with tears. ‘I don’t like being here. I want to go home.’

‘And you will,’ Rachel assured her comfortingly. ‘As soon as you’re feeling better.’

‘I feel better now!’

‘Oh, Daisy.’ Rachel took a steadying breath. ‘As soon as the doctor says you’re fit to leave, you can. I’m sure your father and—and Lauren have been worried sick about you.’

Daisy’s chin trembled. ‘I haven’t seen Lauren,’ she said tearfully. ‘Dad says she doesn’t like hospitals. Or—or sick people.’

Rachel bit her tongue against the retort that sprang to her lips and, as if realising how inflammatory her words had been, Daisy added hastily, ‘Dad said it’s because her mother died in hospital. She had some kind of disease that attacks your liver. Cirius, or something.’

Cirrhosis, thought Rachel flatly, resisting the urge to speculate about whether Mrs Johansen had been rather more than a social drinker, and said, ‘That’s a shame. She can’t have been very old when she died.’

‘She wasn’t.’ Daisy was distracted from her own problems by relating the story. ‘Mr Johansen misses her a lot.’

‘I bet.’ Rachel hesitated. ‘You’ve been staying with him, haven’t you?’

‘Mmm.’ Daisy attempted a nod, but it evidently pained her and she winced. ‘Daddy and Lauren live with him,’ she went on when she’d recovered. ‘He’s nice. You’ll like him.’

‘I doubt if I’ll even meet him,’ declared Rachel ruefully. ‘Once you’re out of hospital, you’ll continue with your holiday and I’ll go home.’

‘No!’ As Rachel would have moved to the chair beside the bed, Daisy grasped her arm. ‘You can’t leave,’ she protested. ‘I don’t want you to.’

‘Oh, Daisy.’ Rachel could see the girl was getting distressed and she tried to reassure her. ‘I can’t stay here. I have to get back, you know that. Besides, what would your father say?’

‘I don’t care what he says,’ muttered Daisy in a choked voice. ‘He doesn’t care about me. He only cares about Lauren.’

‘Now, Daisy—’

‘It’s true!’ she cried. ‘He only wants me here because the company expects their executives to be family men, and he and Lauren can’t have any children.’

‘Daisy!’ Rachel stared at her. ‘You don’t know that.’

‘I do too.’ Daisy groped for a tissue from the box on the bedside cabinet and Rachel put one into her hand. ‘I heard them talking one night after I was supposed to be in bed.’

‘Daisy!’ Rachel was torn between her desire to know what her daughter had heard and the equally strong conviction that she shouldn’t be listening to gossip. ‘I don’t think this is anything to do with me.’

‘But it is!’ Daisy was determined to make her point. ‘You know you’ve always wondered why Dad suddenly started showing an interest in me.’

Rachel’s jaw dropped. ‘I didn’t say that.’

‘You didn’t have to. I’m not stupid, Mum. I’m, like, thirteen, not three.’

Rachel sighed. ‘All the same—’

‘Ah, it’s Mrs Carlyle, I believe.’

The voice came from behind her and Rachel sprang up from the bed as an elderly man in a white coat and wearing half spectacles came briskly into the room. She hoped he hadn’t been listening to their conversation. If so, he must have a very poor opinion of her.

‘Um—yes,’ she said awkwardly, and the man smiled.

‘I thought so.’ He came across the room to shake her hand. ‘I’m Dr Gonzales. Daisy is my patient. And I have to say she looks much brighter now than she did when I saw her this morning.’

‘That’s ‘cos my mum’s here,’ said Daisy at once, and Dr Gonzales inclined his head.

‘Most probably,’ he agreed, consulting the chart hooked to the foot of the bed. ‘But we’ll see, shall we?’ He looked up. ‘How is your head feeling now? Do you still have some pain?’

‘No.’

Daisy’s response was just a little too pat and Dr Gonzales didn’t look as if he was deceived. ‘Maybe just a little?’ suggested Rachel, remembering the way Daisy had winced earlier, and her daughter gave her a resentful look.

‘You’d have some pain if someone had drilled your skull,’ she countered sulkily as a nurse followed the doctor into the room. ‘I’ll feel better when I get out of here.’ Then, as Rachel widened her eyes in warning, ‘Well, I will.’

‘I suggest we allow your mother to go and get a cup of coffee,’ declared Dr Gonzales smoothly as the nurse began to roll back the sleeve of Daisy’s gown. ‘She looks a little tired, don’t you think?’ Then, to Rachel, ‘Perhaps we could have a few words later this evening? I’d like to explain what has happened and how long I think Daisy needs to stay here.’

‘Of course.’ Rachel glanced at her watch. It read almost midnight, but it was still on British time. ‘I—er—I need to speak to someone. To arrange about my luggage. If you could give me half an hour?’

‘Take an hour,’ advised Dr Gonzales kindly. ‘I’ll be here all evening. You might like to have a rest. Are you staying somewhere close by?’

‘The Park Plaza hotel,’ said Rachel, and she thought he seemed a little surprised by her answer. But he didn’t demur.

‘Shall we say eight-thirty?’ he suggested. ‘In my office. The receptionist will tell you where it is.’

Daisy gazed at her despairingly. ‘You’re not leaving?’ She choked back a sob. ‘I don’t want you to go.’

‘I’ll be back.’ Rachel glanced at the doctor, and he nodded his head almost imperceptibly. She squeezed Daisy’s hand. ‘You be good, baby. I’ll be back before you’ve even noticed I’ve gone.’

There was no sign of Joe when Rachel let herself out of Daisy’s room and she guessed he must be waiting downstairs. He couldn’t have left, she assured herself as she took the lift down to the lobby. Her suitcase was still in the boot of the limousine.

But when the lift doors opened it was Luther who was standing there, waiting for her. ‘Mr Mendez had to leave,’ he explained politely. ‘He sends his apologies and has instructed me to escort you to your hotel.’

‘Oh.’ Rachel’s stomach hollowed with disappointment. Until that moment, she hadn’t realised how much she’d wanted to see Joe again. ‘Well, thank you.’ She glanced uncomfortably at the receptionist, who was watching their exchange with obvious interest. She forced a smile. ‘Shall we go?’

The limousine was visible as soon as they stepped out of the doors; its sleek black lines dominated every other vehicle on the parking lot. Luther helped her into the back, then closed the door and got behind the wheel. He moved easily for such a big man, and the smile he gave her through the rear-view mirror was reassuring.