CHAPTER SIX
SEAN BREATHED IN the night air, trying to walk off the anger. Anger that made no sense. Had he really expected everything to change just because his grandfather was ill and he’d dropped everything to rush to his side?
Had he really anticipated an emotional reunion, gratitude and a shift to a new level of mutual understanding?
No, but he’d hoped for it.
He wanted to heal the rift. His grandfather wanted him gone.
And he wanted to go. This whole damn place just made him think of his father.
Sean strode along the path to the lake, a hollow ache in his gut. Instead of turning left to go to Jackson’s house, he turned right and walked toward the boathouse.
The sun was setting over the lake, sending flashes of dark gold over the still surface. An owl hooted in the darkness, a familiar sound from his childhood.
The sudden rush of emotion caught him low in the gut.
How many hours had he spent here? How many facts had he soaked up while listening to the beelike buzz of the blue-winged warbler in the trees nearby? There’d been no better place to learn about Galileo than here, sitting, looking up at the stars.
Sean bent to examine the unfinished section of the deck. If he started work at dawn he’d be finished by lunchtime. That way he could fulfill his promise to Élise, help Jackson and still be gone before his grandfather showed up.
Frustration overflowing, he picked up a stone and sent it skimming across the darkened surface of the water into the black of the night.
“You could jump in,” a voice said from behind him. “That would cool you down.”
He turned and saw Élise leaning against the boathouse, arms folded, watching him. “My brothers have thrown me in the lake often enough for me not to want to do it voluntarily. How long have you been there?”
“Long enough to see you boiling with anger.” She pushed away from the side of the boathouse and walked toward him, her eyes glinting in the moonlight. “You are like a little boy, throwing things and having a tantrum because things aren’t going your way. Instead of thinking of yourself, you need to think about your grandfather.” Her accent was more pronounced than usual, her voice velvet-soft. “He is the one who is suffering.”
Anger collided with exasperation. “What the hell do you think I’m doing here? I’ve done nothing but think about my grandfather. I dropped everything the moment I got Jackson’s call. I’ve been wearing the same clothes for three days, pulled in a million favors from colleagues and slept in Jackson’s spare room, and all I’ve done is made things worse. Gramps doesn’t want me here. Fortunately that’s easily fixed.”
“What makes you think he doesn’t want you here?”
“You were there. You heard him.”
“I heard him snapping at everyone as he always does when he’s stressed. I didn’t hear anything that made me think he wanted you to leave.”
“Then maybe you weren’t concentrating. He told me to go. Ordered me. And if it’s stress that caused his heart attack, then I’m adding to that stress by being here. The best way I can help him is by leaving.”
Her foot tapped on the deck. “You are going back to Boston?”
“Tomorrow.” He saw her eyes narrow dangerously and assumed she was worried about her party. “Don’t worry. I’ll finish your deck first.”
“Putain.” She spat out a swearword and those eyes blazed, her anger matching his. “So you’ll leave them? When your family needs you most? That is not what O’Neils do!”
“Don’t throw guilt on me. I’m already drowning in it.” Sean came right back at her, his temper fueled by an evening of holding back. “I’m doing what Gramps wants.”
“You are supposed to be so intelligent but sometimes I think you are a great big stupid person. Today I chopped liver that has more brain than you. It isn’t because he doesn’t want you here. The two of you, you are both so stubborn, neither of you will back down. I could smash your stupide heads together were it not for the fact that Walter is already enough injured.”
“Injured enough.”
“Are you correcting my English?” Élise’s tone was dangerous but for some reason her words shattered the tension and made him want to smile.
“No.”
“Yes, you were. Well let me tell you this, Dr. O’Neil—” it was clear that her emphasis on the Dr. wasn’t supposed to be complimentary “—I may have my words the wrong way around, but my thinking is straight which is more than can be said for you.”
“Gramps is recovering just fine. He doesn’t need me here.”
An owl hooted in the darkness but neither of them heard it.
“Look beneath the surface! Sometimes people don’t always tell the truth about their feelings. You are a doctor! You should know that. And what about dear Alice? She ’as not slept since her beloved Walter was taken into hospital and now she will not sleep because he is at home and she is worried.” Her accent grew thicker as her temper rose. “And what about your mother? She is worrying about Walter and Alice and now also she is worrying about you because she sees you are hurt by this rift with your grandfather and you are her baby.”
Sean lifted his eyebrows. “Do I look like a baby?”
“I am not talking about your height or your muscles. To a mother, her child is always a baby. She is divided, no? She is being pulled by Walter and pulled by you and—” She gave up on English entirely and switched to French but he understood her perfectly so the change in language offered him no respite from the fierce burn of her temper. “And what about Jackson? He is working so hard already, you think he has time to watch over Walter, too, while you storm off in a sulk?”
“I am not sulking.” Sean’s own temper sparked. “And if Jackson wants me here, he can say so.”
“But he won’t. Because he is your brother and he loves you and he knows how hard it is for you to be here.” Muttering to herself, she turned away and paced across the finished portion of the deck and back again. “Think, Sean. Think. Ignore your bruised feelings and use your brain.”
“This isn’t about my feelings.”
“You’re hurt because you think your grandfather doesn’t want you here, but that isn’t what is going on!”
“You don’t understand what is going on.” His own emotions dangerously close to the surface, he dragged his hand through his hair. “There was a row. We had a row.” It was the first time he’d told anyone and he saw her frown.
“With Walter there will always be rows. It is in his nature to provoke.”
“This was different.” His mouth was dry. Why the hell was he telling her this? “It was at my father’s funeral. I said things—”
“What things?”
“It doesn’t matter.” Remembering it still made him feel sick. The ocean of grief, the agony of missing his father, the desperate need to wind back time and do things differently, and the blame. Always the blame. “But I can tell you that is the reason he doesn’t want me here. He’s angry with me. And he has reason to be.” And he was still angry with his grandfather.
He knew he should let it go, but he couldn’t.
It simmered. Festered. The surgeon in him wanted to cut it out but because that wasn’t possible he’d learned to live with it.
Élise frowned and shook her head. “I am glad you told me because now I understand a little bit more, but the reason he wants you to leave has nothing to do with your argument.”
“Of course it does.”
She advanced on him and stabbed him in the chest with her finger. “One day, Sean O’Neil, I will roll you in poison ivy and maybe then you will wake up. You are—you are—” she said something in French and he raised his eyebrows.
“Are you calling me an idiot?” He decided this wasn’t the moment to tell her she was sexy when she was angry.
“Yes, because you are. The reason your grandfather wants you to leave is not about you at all! It isn’t because he is stubborn, or because he doesn’t want you here, or because he is dwelling on the row you had, but because he is very afraid. He is afraid. And you would see that if you weren’t so focused on your own feelings.”
Silence settled between them.
The only sound in the night air was the soft slap of water against the deck.
“Afraid?” It was an explanation that hadn’t occurred to him. He thought of his grandfather, the strongest person he knew, and shook his head. “You’re wrong. Gramps is the toughest guy you will ever meet. I’ve never seen him afraid. Not when Tyler fell in the river as a toddler, not even when we came face-to-face with a bear in the middle of a trail on a camping trip in Wyoming when we were young.”
She waved a hand dismissively. “None of that is scary compared to this.”
“Compared to what exactly?”
“Sean, wake up! With a bear you can punch it on the nose or whatever, but with this—this heart attack, this silent scary thing that came at him from nowhere, this he cannot punch on the nose. Do you not understand that? He has no control over this. He cannot shout at it, hit it on the head or blind it with pepper spray. He cannot even see it.” Palms raised, Élise looked at him with exasperation. “What has happened has terrified him. Snow Crystal is his life. He is afraid that this will slow him down and change things and what is the first thing that happens when he walks back through the door of his own home? Everyone is telling him to sit down and not do anything. For Walter that is like telling him to just be dead already. He isn’t the sort of man who would relish living his life in a chair. He wants to be active. And so he is terrified. And the more terrified he is, the more aggressive and snappy he becomes.”
Afraid?
“I deal with people who are afraid all the time. I know what fear looks like. He isn’t behaving like a man who is afraid.”
“You think because he doesn’t say it he doesn’t feel it? Maybe you are used to dealing with people who are afraid, but with Walter you switch off being a doctor and become his grandson. Instead of thinking about how you know so much because you’re this great big important doctor, instead of feeling guilty about the row, you should think about him and what he needs.”
“So if your theory is right and he’s scared, why is he sending me away?”
Her eyes were bright with exasperation. “Because having you here makes him feel more vulnerable.”
“More vulnerable? The idea of staying is that having me here will make him feel less vulnerable. It’s supposed to reassure him.”
“As far as Walter is concerned, you have been home once since Christmas and that was a fleeting visit. You do not spend chunks of time here.”
Guilt stabbed. “That’s true, but—”
“The fact is you don’t usually do this and suddenly you are doing it. So for Walter, he thinks you are agreeing to stay because you are worried about him. Instead of reassuring him, he is taking the fact that you are staying as a sign that he is going to have another heart attack. That you think he is going to drop dead. That everyone is waiting for him to drop dead. They are all hovering like blackfly. He is very afraid. He needs everything to be normal.”
Confronted by the very real possibility that he’d misread everything, Sean stood still. Why hadn’t that interpretation occurred to him?
What the hell sort of doctor was he?
“It’s possible that you’re right.”
“I am right. Now forget your stupid pride, admit that you messed up and let’s move on for Walter’s sake.”
He pressed his fingers to the bridge of his nose. He’d been so busy managing his own complex emotions he hadn’t analyzed the possible psychology behind his grandfather’s response. “If you’re right and my being here is making him more afraid, then I am in an impossible position. I should stay, but that will just make him worse.” Battling with the options, Sean tilted his head back and stared up at the sky, wondering if Galileo had found physics easier than human relations. “So I have to find another reason to stay. A reason that doesn’t involve him. A reason he’ll believe.”
She nodded approval. “Yes, so then he will not feel you are waiting for him to drop dead.”
“I could say I’m staying to reassure Grams.”
Élise rolled her eyes. “Then he will think you are ready to comfort her when he drops dead. That is not reassuring, as you would realize if you started thinking.”
“I am thinking!” Sean clenched his jaw and cursed under his breath. “And no one is dropping dead.”
“Good! So find a reason for staying that he will find plausible.”
He paced across the completed part of the deck and then glanced down at his feet. “The deck.” He wondered why it hadn’t occurred to him before. “I will tell him I have to finish the deck before the party. It’s essential for Snow Crystal. He will never argue with anything involving Snow Crystal.”
“The deck is nearly completed.”
“He doesn’t know that. He hasn’t seen it yet. I’ll undo the work I’ve already done. I’ll get here early, before he shows up, and rip it up. He’ll never know. I’ll make the job last all week.”
Élise’s eyes gleamed. “He’ll tell you off for being slow.”
“You wanted his life to be normal. That sounds normal to me.” Sean tried to focus but the scent of her was dizzying. It smothered his brain and pumped itself through his veins until she was the only thing in his head. “I’ll make it clear my being here has nothing to do with him, and I’ll tell the rest of the family to stop hovering and back off. Does that work?”
“I think so.” She relaxed slightly and stepped away from him. “Now that is solved, I can sleep.”
“Wait a minute—” He caught her arm and pulled her back to him, his eyes on her mouth.
“Stop looking at me like that.”
“How am I looking at you?”
“As if you want to strip me naked.”
He felt the tension leave him. “Stripping you naked is just the beginning of what I want to do to you. Do you want to hear the rest?”
“No.” But heat flared in her eyes. “You will not talk me around with sex if that is what you are thinking.”
“Talking wasn’t part of my plan.”
“I am angry with you. I cannot kiss you when I’m angry with you.”
“Fine. Then I’ll kiss you.” And he did. Except that the second he crushed her mouth under his, she was kissing him back. Her lips were soft and sweet, her response instant and it was as hot and crazy as every other time. They took hungrily, greedily, the kiss explicit and passionate to the point of violence. Her tongue was in his mouth and his in hers, tangling intimately. Moaning, she grabbed a handful of his shirt, pressed herself hard against him and then whimpered slightly as he switched positions and pushed her back against the railings, trapping her.
“You think you can soften my mood with kisses?” Her tone was thickened. “You’re a good kisser but it won’t work. I’m still angry.”
“No, you’re not.” His hands tore at her shirt in his haste to get to her skin. “God, Élise, I want you—” The taste of her sent fire rushing through him. The chemistry was as sharp as a whip, biting into him. He felt her fingers dig hard into his shoulders.
“I will scratch you like a cat and my claws are very sharp.”
Sean tore at the buttons on her shirt. “I’ll take my chances.” The need was burning inside him.
“And tomorrow when you are working on the deck with your shirt off, everyone will see your shoulders and raise their eyebrows. This thing between us will no longer be a secret.” Hands shaking, she ripped at his shirt and buttons flew. “Merde, that was Jackson’s shirt—”
“I’ll buy him another—” The moonlight shone down on the dip and swell of her breasts, partially revealed by a pretty lace bra, and he wasn’t thinking of the shirt or his brother. He couldn’t remember ever wanting another woman the way he wanted Élise. “You’re so beautiful.” His fingers slid under the lace and he heard her moan.
“You are clever with your hands.”
He decided lace was overrated and unhooked her bra. Her breasts were small and high and he wondered if the bra had any purpose other than to add another layer and drive a man mad. He slid his mouth down to her shoulder and lower, sucking her nipple into his mouth.
Her fingers dug hard into his shoulders. “Sean—”
Her nipple hardened against the slow flick of his tongue and he heard her breathing change.
Desire ripped at him, tearing through control, and he brought his mouth down on hers again, feeling her press against him. He was tired of pressure and complication. Tired of trying to second-guess his family and tired of feeling guilty. He wanted to blot it out. He wanted this. He wanted her.
And he wanted her now.
Her arms were around his neck. Her body pressed against his.
He decided if he was going to prolong his stay at Snow Crystal, he deserved to do whatever he could to preserve his sanity. And sex with Élise was deliciously uncomplicated.
Or was it?
He eased away from her at the same moment that she pulled back from him.
They stared at each other for a moment and then she curled her fingers into the front of his shirt and gave a crooked smile.
“You’re a very sexy man, Sean.”
“Glad I have something going for me given that my brain is so small and insignificant.”
The dimple appeared in the corner of her mouth. “I like your sense of humor. And I like your body. But we should not do this again.”
He thought about how complicated his life was. “You’re probably right.”
“But you must do one thing for me.” Her voice was husky, her hand still on his chest. “You must fix this thing with your grandfather. You have to talk to him.”
“You’re probably right about that, too.”
“Go to bed.” She reached up and kissed him on the cheek, her lips brushing gently over his jaw. “Good night, Sean.”
He opened his mouth to try and form a coherent sentence, but she’d slipped into the dark of the forest leaving him standing alone on the half-finished deck.