Chapter 9
Vaughn grabbed her out of instinct but loosened his grip when he felt Mariah's delicate frame stiffen beneath his palms. The top of her head with that glossy chestnut hair stopped a few inches below his chin.
He tried not to notice how perfectly she fit next to him, how that white coat couldn't totally hide her figure. His traitorous arms twitched with the need to wrap around her. A ridiculous notion, given the situation brewing with his sister. Hell, he still needed to hunt down and destroy that fucking creature that had put his sister in this hospital in the first place.
He had no time and no business thinking about anything besides professional matters when it came to the woman in front of him.
Okay, maybe another brunch date. Where he could watch her eat large quantities of food.
Christ.
Through some miracle of whatever gods still had his back, Vaughn managed to hold his shit together. What he really wanted was to back Mariah flush against the wall and press every inch of his body hard against hers, from her black pants to her plum-colored shirt that made her green eyes glow. But he didn't move a muscle.
Instead, he inhaled her mint aroma, which made his mouth fucking water, the craving stronger than when he wanted alcohol. Her scent also fired up his power again, and he gave in, mentally throwing the latch as he grimaced against the headache when the damned ability reached out to surround her and protect her.
Protect her from what? Danger? Only person here was... him.
Well, crap.
"Sorry there," she said.
Her breathy voice erased all rational thought, but he couldn't help himself. His biceps flexed, drawing her into his chest. Like she belonged there. So right.
So wrong.
No one belonged this close to Vaughn. Hell, he was practically radioactive. Everything he touched went to hell, and he'd be damned if Mariah would be hurt because of him.
Also, they were in a professional situation here.
Her small palms seared him through his shirt as she pushed back.
Pushed back.
Of course she did.
Faster than when the bell signaled the end of a fight round, he let go of her.
Damn her wide eyes and open mouth, but he wanted more of her, from the bow of her fuller upper lip to the tip of her pert nose.
His power flowed from him in a wave of crushing need to keep her safe, sucking the air from his lungs. That damned gift wanted to cocoon Mariah as surely as his physical arms. This was more than familiarity from their date together yesterday.
His head ached.
He swallowed a lump of what felt like gravel mixed with failure. "So, did you figure out what's going on with Shelby?" Mariah flinched. Time to tone down the angry voice. It wasn't her fault his brain waves fritzed when he was around her.
The inward roll of her lips had as much of an impact as if she'd dragged them over his skin. Fuck. Then that soft, pink mouth was moving.
"...no bleed in the brain, which is good. But I don't have an explanation for her loss of consciousness."
Eric had filled him in on what had happened back in that hospital room. Shelby had used her power to pull Eric back to the world of the living, but the cost was that she went into another coma. Whether she would recover this time was anyone's guess.
Unfortunately, no one in the family would ever spill the secret about the Taggarts' strange powers. Which left one doctor very frustrated and worried. Not that a medical professional knowing what Shelby had done would be able to help. According to Garrison and Kerr, their sister's ability had grown a few weeks ago. No one knew the price of that power changing.
Icy terror crystallized in his veins. Maybe this was the end game for his sister. For all of them. What if the Taggart kids could tolerate only so much of a shift in their power, and beyond that, their heads imploded?
A horrible thought, considering he was talking about his sister.
A fist formed way down deep in his chest. Damn. It wasn't fair. None of the bullshit his family had to deal with was fair.
He must have mumbled something marginally coherent, because Mariah answered, "That's it. I'm going to call Casper back and get Shelby transferred."
"No!" he said, grabbing her shoulder.
"What? Why not?"
He gave her the two inches it took for her to slide free of his grip. "I mean, you said that we just need to give it time, right?" You call that a recovery line? Lame. Why not put up a billboard that read: unstable freak, steer clear?
"Sure, but I'm not a neurologist, and what's going on with her, I can't explain." When she swallowed, the movement of her throat froze him in place. He couldn't stop staring at the graceful line of her neck. "Whatever is happening to your sister is way out of the scope of care for any doctor at this hospital."
"You saying you can't hack it?" Damn it. Stop saying stupid shit.
Her pale skin went ashen. "What?"
How'd that foot taste, shoved into his mouth?
Christ, she didn't deserve to be the target of his ping-ponging moods. Didn't matter that his fear of screwing up any relationship with a woman drove those hot-and-cold responses. But it sure seemed like every time he dared to hope that he could have a normal relationship, reality reminded him why hope was a crappy plan. And without a filter stopping these knee-jerk verbal reactions to his warring desires and fears... no one deserved to be treated like this.
"What I'm saying is, you took care of Shelby and Eric in the ER and when they were critically ill. That's pretty good. Uh, good skills. What services can be done in Casper that can't be done here?"
Her mouth opened and closed. She tugged on the stethoscope around her neck. He recognized it as her nervous tic by now. "I feel that we aren't making any progress, and in fact backslid this morning, for a reason I can't determine."
"Eric's awake."
"Sure, but why?"
"Time? Patience?"
"Maybe." How badly he wanted to run his fingertip over the skin to smooth the furrows between her dark brows.
"We'd really like to keep our family all here in Copper River." Keep them close. Protect them from whatever was stalking the Taggart family.
"Even if it's not optimal care? That doesn't make any sense."
Smart woman, trying to put pieces together, even if the pieces didn't fit. He needed to shut that activity down, fast.
"That's our family's decision." He tried to cap the statement with as much finality as he could muster but remain civil.
"Well. Okay, then."
She chewed her lower lip; what he wanted was to crush his mouth to hers. That decision would be yet another in a long string of mistakes on his part.
So he settled for a half measure. "I'm sorry to be so short with you. Now, and earlier yesterday. It's just"—no way could he explain the real reason—"uh, I'm worried about my family."
Her shoulders lifted and fell. "Understandable." The woman had more grace in her right pinkie than he ever could hope to possess. Maybe he could repair the damage. Maybe he could get a second chance.
Or maybe, instead of mooning over the woman in front of him, he should act like a big brother and focus on his sick sister.
"All right. I'll go sit with Shelby." He tried to soften his stupidity with a passable smile that felt all wrong. When had he truly smiled last? Well over a year ago.
Except for the coffee incident with pretty doctor the other day. And at brunch yesterday. She'd made him smile, and for those brief moments, his life had been filled with light and happiness.
The muscles in his neck tensed with an effort to hold back any more inappropriate statements.
"Okay." She didn't meet his eyes. "I'll be back in a bit to check in on her again."
Her quick steps faded down the hall. As Mariah turned into the stairwell doorway, he caught one more glimpse of her glossy brown hair as it slid over her shoulders with the movement.
Then she was gone.
The air went stale, lifeless.