by
Diane Maxwell
Manuscript Complete / 200,000 words / Contemporary Romance
Copyright 2001 All rights reserved to the author
No copying in any form electronically or by any given means without the expressed written consent of the author
Chapter 28
"So you're the infamous Rose."
Rose opened her eyes after a muttered prayer. She'd closed them so tightly she saw stars moments ago when he appeared, announced his name and told his father's condition. Silvery dots still flashed before her eyes.
"Hey. You asleep or something?"
She roused and stared at him. "Excuse me?"
"You must be the Rose I've heard so much about." He moved further into the room and laughed as he sat beside her. "Now I know exactly why Mikey didn't want me to meet you."
Her heart sank. As if it could get any lower. She knew making love with Michael again would be a mistake, especially after learning who his father was. But when he held her, when she felt the desire that matched hers, she hadn't been able to control herself.
Sloan MacKenna had fought for his life while they made love. A fight brought on through incidents related to her. Why his son even talked to her, let alone touched her, wasn't something she cared to contemplate or explain.
"Did you hear what I said? Mikey didn't want me to meet you."
"I know." She dragged her thoughts back to the present.
His brown eyes widened. The resemblance to his father, except for eye color, was so strong. "I'm surprised he told you."
"Why?"
"Honey, believe me, if anyone knows Mikey I do. He's never open about his motives." A lock of dark brown hair swung merrily over his forehead as he laughed again. The sound dispelled the lingering gloom in the empty room. "Especially jealousy."
Startled, her mouth dropped open before she had the presence of mind to stop it. "Jealousy? From Michael?"
"Don't tell me you haven't guessed how possessive he is. I'm shocked he left knowing I'd be all alone with you."
Rose shook her head, as much to deny what he was saying as to humor someone whose parent had been near death. "I'm glad you told them he's your brother."
"It was worth it just to see that surgeon try to picture me and Mikey coming from the same parents." He tightened his grip. "I think a nurse is on to us, though. Good thing she's so bowled over by Mikey's good looks."
A painful lump in her throat made any reply impossible.
"I'd have said you're our sister but they'd never buy that the way Mikey probably looks at you."
Rose closed her eyes again. The ice in Michael's features whenever he glanced her way could freeze an erupting volcano. "That's all right. Mister MacKenna wouldn't want to see me."
"Yeah," he agreed, unknowingly twisting the knife in her heart deeper. "He wouldn't want any woman to see him like he is now."
Rose felt the tremble from his hand to hers. Opening her eyes, she patted his shoulder. "The doctors say he'll pull through just fine, don't they?"
He nodded, all humor gone from his expression. "He's damned lucky. Hit over the head, his leg nearly sawed off-- God, what kind of twisted manic are we dealing with?"
Her gaze skipped from his haunted one. She couldn't explain. He had enough on him.
"If he'd died--"
"Don't." Rose hugged him without conscious thought, like a mother comforting a discouraged child. "He won't die. You saw him, talked with him. You even told me how well he looks considering all he's been through. He'll be fine. Really."
He buried his face in her neck, held her as tight and unintimate as she held him. "I just keep thinking I should have been here, should have known somehow he was in trouble. In danger."
She stroked his hair. Her eyes closed against the wave of guilt-ridden tears. "There's nothing you could have done. You're here now. And you love him. That's what matters."
Another shudder wracked him. "God, Rose. I know now why Mikey--"
"Am I interrupting?"
Rose jerked away from his friend at his steel tone. She couldn't make her gaze meet his for the world. "How is Mister MacKenna?"
"Not nearly as well off as the MacKenna out here."
Devon grinned. "What do you think? Did he say much?"
"He told me to go home. To let him sleep in peace. And we should. He's over the worst." Michael continued to glare at him.
"No argument there, thank God." Devon let go of Rose and stood, turned back to offer his hand.
She got to her feet yet kept her gaze on the floor. "Thanks."
Devon held her hand even as she tried to pull it from his grasp. "Any time, honey. Mikey got an extra room in that penthouse?"
"No."
"Yes," Rose corrected, glancing at Michael's set features then quickly away. Blue ice cubes. So much for Devon's statement about jealousy. "He does now. I'm going back to my apartment."
"Like hell you are," Michael growled, his eyes as hot as they'd been cold. "It's not safe. Mac was stabbed there."
Rose gasped. "What?"
"Hell of a way to tell her," Devon inserted as he tried to lead her out the door.