“My homeowner’s insurance will pay for the motel, and my medical coverage will pay for the nurse,” she said triumphantly, praying it was true.
“And where will you find this motel room?” he asked.
“Miami’s a tourist destination. There are hundreds of hotel rooms.”
“And most of them are either packed with tourists willing to pay two or three hundred dollars a night or are filled up with insurance adjusters, fly-by-night contractors who’ve swarmed down here hoping to make a quick killing doing repairs or people just like you who’ve been displaced by the hurricane and who got there first.”
Allie sighed. He was probably right. “Then I’ll go into a treatment center. How bad can it be? I’ll only be there a few days.”
Ricky shrugged. “If that’s what you want,” he said mildly. “Institutional food. Antiseptic smells. A hard hospital bed. If you prefer that to my comfortable guest room and my mother’s home-cooked meals, which I’m sure she’ll insist on bringing over, then go for it.”
He wasn’t playing fair. This room was already closing in on her. She doubted a change to another medical facility would be an improvement. And she’d definitely had her fill of bland, tasteless meals. Cuban food was her very favorite. Her mouth watered just thinking about sweet, fried plantains.
But could she move in with a man who was virtually a stranger? Especially one who stirred her hormones in an extremely disconcerting way?
As if he sensed that she was wavering, he gave her an irrepressible grin. “I won’t even try to seduce you, if that’s what’s on your mind.”
“Of course that’s not on my mind,” she protested a little too vehemently, even as a guilty flush crept up her cheeks. “Don’t be ridiculous.”
His grin spread. “If you say so, mi amiga.”
Friend? she translated derisively. That’s all she was to him? For a man she’d barely met forty-eight hours ago, it was actually quite a lot, but for reasons she probably shouldn’t explore too closely, she found it vaguely insulting.
As if to contradict his own words, he lifted his hand and caressed her cheek, allowing his thumb to skim lightly, but all too sensually across her lips.
“Come on, Allie. A few days. It’s a way out of here. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”
She swallowed hard. More than anything, she thought. More than anything, she wanted not just out of the hospital, but to go home with Enrique Wilder. The powerful yearning terrified her.
Not once in recent years had she given in to her own desires. She had become cautious and practical and self-protective. Heaven help her, without even realizing it, she had turned into her parents.
And two nights ago she had almost died. Maybe it was time she got back to living every single minute of every day.
“If you’re absolutely sure that it won’t be an inconvenience,” she said finally, trying to ignore the wave of heat that continued to build simply from that light touch against her cheek. “And it’s just for a few days.”
His gaze locked with hers. “A few days,” he echoed softly. He bent his head, his mouth hovering a scant inch above hers.
She yearned for him to close the distance, prayed for it, but he jerked away instead, his expression suddenly troubled.
“Sorry,” he said roughly. “I’ll go find the doctor.”
And then he was gone.
Sorry, Allie thought, sinking gingerly to the side of the bed. He was sorry he’d almost kissed her. She was trembling inside, filled with anticipation, and he was sorry?
If she could have backed out of this deal of theirs right now, she would have, but he would have no trouble at all guessing why. It would be too humiliating.
She could keep this crazy lust under control for a few days, especially if he was gone most of the time as he’d promised. It was probably no more than some out-of-whack hormonal reaction to coming so close to dying. It probably had nothing to do with Enrique Wilder at all.
He walked back into her room just then, and her pulse ricocheted at the sight of him. Okay, she thought despondently, it had everything to do with him.
But she could control it. She had to.
“All taken care of,” he announced. “Let’s get you out of here and go home.”
Just the mention of the word did her in. Two days of pent-up emotions crowded into her heart. Allie thought of her own home, unrecognizable now, and had to fight the sting of tears. Ricky regarded her with alarm.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “What did I say?”
Before she could respond, he gave a low moan and knelt in front of her, taking her hand in his. “Home? That’s it, isn’t it? I’m sorry. You’ll rebuild, Allie.”
“Of course,” she said with sheer bravado. “It just caught me by surprise for a second, realizing that I don’t actually have a home anymore.”
“Well, for now you have a home with me,” he reassured her.
The promise gave her comfort. It might be only a stop-gap solution, but it was enough for now. For the first time since the whole ordeal began, she didn’t feel quite so terrified and alone.
Chapter Four
Ricky wasn’t sure exactly what had possessed him to insist on taking Allie home with him. He’d never in his life lived with a woman, had always assumed he wouldn’t until he got married. He’d never been serious enough about any female to allow her into his world. A few had slept in his bed, but all had left the next morning, most never to return.
He protected his freedom with blunt words and clean breakups, when necessary. No woman had helped him decorate, not even his mother or sisters. From the color of the paint to the spread on the bed, he had chosen it all. It was a haphazard decor, because he’d made impulsive choices depending on what struck his fancy or what he’d been able to find when he’d had a few minutes to shop.
The house itself was small compared to the homes in the area where Allie had lived—two bedrooms, a living room and dining area, one bath and a kitchen that could best be described as cozy. He could stand in the middle and reach the stove, the refrigerator or the table without taking a step. He considered the setup efficient, when he thought about it at all.
The house might not be fancy, but it suited him, because the backyard was filled with trees—grapefruit, avocado, mango and orange. There was nothing better than walking outside first thing in the morning and plucking fresh fruit for his breakfast. Once he’d seen those trees, nothing else had mattered.
The fenced-in yard was also perfect for Shadow. On the first day Ricky brought him home, the shepherd had chosen a favorite spot in the shade, which he guarded as zealously as Ricky did his privacy. Eventually Shadow had allowed Ricky to put a lawn chair in the vicinity to share it. They spent a lot of relaxing hours out there, Shadow dreaming his doggie dreams about chasing squirrels, and Ricky sipping a beer and thinking about as little as possible.
How was Allie going to fit into their bachelor life? Surely in just a few days—which was all he’d bargained for—she wouldn’t get any ideas about putting artificial flower arrangements all over the place or sweet-smelling soaps in the bathroom.
Suddenly an image of lacy underwear and panty hose hanging over his shower rod popped into his head. But rather than making him shudder, he found himself eagerly anticipating the intrusion. Did she wear skimpy little scraps of sexy lingerie or practical cotton panties? The speculation heated his blood by several degrees.
“Geez,” he muttered under his breath. “Get a grip.” He glanced over guiltily, relieved to see that her gaze was directed out the car window. Obviously