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“Absolutely. I told the doorman you might be coming. He has a set of keys. So does Sophia. Make yourself at home.”
The thought of Sophia having a set of Marcos’s house keys made him uneasy. “Thanks. I really appreciate it.”
More murmurs sounded in the background, and that was definitely Marcos chuckling at something. Hand tightening on the phone, he realized he now had the thing mashed to his ear. So much for not letting it touch him any more than necessary. The fire in his gut burned just a little bit hotter when he caught a faint whiff of her scent clinging to the thing. His glance swung back to the nurse, wondering how he knew what she smelled like.
It’s your sick imagination, bud.
As soon as he got back to the States, he was going to sink deep into the first willing woman he came across. It had obviously been far too long since he’d gotten any. Maybe he’d even find someone here in Brazil at one of the clubs, if he was here long enough.
“Well, I’ll let you go.” Lucas was suddenly anxious to get off the phone.
“Okay... Oh, wait. I forgot to ask. How does it feel to see Sophia again after all these years? It’s hard for me not to still picture her as a little kid.”
Little kid? That was the last thing he’d pictured when he’d looked at Sophia. But Marcos’s words made a slight chill come over him, dousing the flames that had begun licking at places he’d rather were left alone.
“I don’t follow.”
There was a pause. “You don’t remember her? I guess it was so long ago that—”
“Remember her from where?” The chill grew. When he glanced to the side, he noted Sophia had turned toward him.
Before Marcos’s next words came over the line, he knew he’d somehow missed something. Something big.
“She was at the orphanage with us. Stuck to our sides like glue. O trio dinâmico. Ring a bell?”
The dynamic trio.
Why hadn’t she said anything?
“I...” Feeling like an idiot, Lucas stared at the woman in front of him, trying to see something that rang a bell. Instead, he settled for the first lame words that popped into his brain. “I was just a kid.”
“Right.” The disappointment surrounding that single word cut him to the quick.
How could he be expected to remember something that had happened thirty years ago? It wasn’t like he’d spent his whole life in Brazil, the way Marcos had. But it did explain why Sophia had been there each step of the way during his surgery and recovery. He suddenly felt like a first-class heel.
He tried to explain. “There’ve been things I haven’t been able to remember since the shooting. Maybe that’s why.”
Sophia turned away, just as Marcos said, “Don’t worry about it. Could you pass the phone back to her, please?”
“Sure.”
“Take care, Lucas.”
“You too.”
Jiggling the phone in his hand and not sure if he should just tap her on the shoulder or say her name, he settled for clearing his throat, even though the last thing he wanted to do was face her again. “He wants to talk to you.”
She turned back around and gave him a cheery smile then held out her hand, her eyes skipping away from his almost immediately.
Like a man caught in a riptide and unable to pull free of its deadly grasp, he slowly handed over the phone. Then he did the unthinkable. He took a step closer and cupped her chin, his thumb strumming over the softness of her cheek as he forced her to meet his eyes. “Why didn’t you say something about the orphanage?”
* * *
She took a step back, dislodging his hand. “It didn’t seem important.”
Not wanting to give him a chance to respond, she put the phone to her ear. “Hello?”
And proving they were indeed brothers, the first words out of Marcos’s mouth were, “You didn’t tell him?”
* * *
This wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have in front of Lucas. Turning on her heel, she left the room. Once outside the door, she gulped down a couple of quick breaths, leaning a shoulder against a wall. With a shaky hand she brushed her hair off her forehead. “No. Why would I? Like he said, we were just kids. It’s ancient history.”
But the tremor in her voice said the same thing her heart did: she’d remembered him. Despite their ages.
What did it matter?
Exactly. She was being ridiculous. Lucas was alive—that was the only important thing. He’d be able to get on with his life as if this little interlude in Brazil had never happened. It was fine.
Her friend’s voice came back through. “Well, since it’s ancient history, I kind of feel funny asking you to...”
As if at a loss, he didn’t finish his sentence.
“Asking me to what?”
“Check in on him every once in a while at the apartment? Make sure he’s okay.”
She gulped. That was so not a good idea. Lucas already made her pulse race, and he didn’t even know who she was. It was one thing to act the part of his nurse at the hospital...but outside of it? “I don’t know.”
“Please, Soph. I know it’s not fair to ask you, but you’re the closest thing to family I have. You were practically a sister to us, whether he remembers it or not.”
“You and I grew up together. You only remember me because we were at the orphanage longer than he was. He doesn’t remember anything about his life here in Brazil.”
That wasn’t entirely true. She’d heard Marcos talk to Lucas after his surgery, and he’d remembered some things from his childhood. He’d remembered his brother. Remembered the promise he and Marcos had made to their father—those words were tattooed on his arm, in fact, along with his father’s name. Lucas even remembered the policeman who’d found the two boys sorting through a pile of garbage at their tiny shack of a house all those years ago.
Despite all that, Lucas probably didn’t recall much about his father’s sudden death or what had come afterwards.
She tried again. “I’m a complete stranger to him, Marcos.”
“Possibly. But you’re not a stranger to me.”
And there it was. He was calling up the friendship card. It wasn’t like she hadn’t given him enough grief over the years: Getting into trouble. Nagging. Matchmaking.
The matchmaking bit had worked out pretty well, actually, since it had given him Maggie. Still, in all the years she’d known him Marcos had never really asked anything of her. How could she say no and face herself in the mirror?
Sighing, she tipped her head against the wall and stared at the ceiling. “Fine. I’ll try, but only if he lets me.”
She brushed off Marcos’s thanks and murmured a quick goodbye, more than ready to be done with this particular conversation. Almost as soon as she hit the “end” button, a sudden swish of air brushed her left arm, making her tense.
Her head came off the wall, and she turned to find that Lucas had silently come through the door of his room, with no warning rattle from his IV pole to alert her. She couldn’t keep her gaze from tracking over him, pausing at the top of his hand, where a thin trickle of blood marred his tanned skin.
She frowned. “Where’s your IV?”
That’s why she hadn’t heard him. He’d pulled the catheter out of his vein.
“I don’t need it any more.”
Right. Marcos wanted her to take care of him? Well, they were off to a great start. “That’s for your doctor to decide.” She motioned to the door. “I’ll get you hooked back up.”
He pressed the needle puncture against the fabric over his thigh, drawing her attention to the fact that he was still in his hospital gown. Still naked beneath it.
A slow breath hissed between his teeth. “I feel like I should say something here. About what Marcos said about the orphanage—”
“No need to worry about it. Like you said, we were young. You’d just had your whole life torn apart. You would have clung to the one person who was a constant in your life: Marcos.”
The words made perfect sense, but they didn’t take away the tiny ache that lingered inside.
“I think I’ve just blocked some of those memories. The day my father...when he didn’t come home... Things are just a big blur. I don’t remember much more than snatches of sensation here and there.” He gave a lopsided smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I do remember the food at the orphanage leaving something to be desired. I’m still not a big fan of beans and rice.”
And that should remind her, if nothing else did, that although he was Brazilian by birth, in his heart, he was just another rich man who’d left his roots far, far behind.
Her chin went up. “And I still love them.”
Something touched her wrist and then slid lower, wrapping around her index finger. She glanced down in surprise to find he was no longer putting pressure on his IV site but had hooked his finger around hers. A flare of something dangerous kicked to life inside her belly.
“They’re probably going to release me in a day or two. Maybe we could meet somewhere, and you could tell me what you remember from those days. Fill in some blanks. At least until Marcos gets back.”
And have him discover that, unlike him, she remembered quite a bit about their time together? That while Marcos might have been his lifeline, they’d both been hers? “I don’t think—”
“Please. I want to know.”
Deus. As much as she wanted to turn her back on him and forget their paths had ever crossed again, she couldn’t. Not only because of Marcos’s request but because—despite the macho display as he’d swaggered toward her desk earlier—there was a hint of something beneath the knowing smile he’d given her. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on, but it was enough that she couldn’t just brush off his request.
“Okay. But until the doctor releases you, you can’t go around unhooking yourself from your IV. Deal?”
The smile he gave her was just as lazy as before, but this time it reached all the way up to his eyes, making her stomach do a back flip.
This was a big mistake. She felt it in her bones. But at least if she got him tethered back to his IV pole she could keep him in one spot. And she could remain just out of reach. Far enough away that he couldn’t touch her again without warning, because her finger was painfully aware that he was still holding onto it. And the cheek he’d stroked a few minutes ago still tingled.
Yes, staying out of reach was a good thing. For her own peace of mind.
And if that meant keeping him at the other end of an IV line then the man was going to find himself pumped so full of fluids that he’d inflate like a water balloon.
And that’s how he’d stay. At least until she could get herself—and her out-of-whack emotions—firmly under control.
CHAPTER THREE
“YOU’LL NEED SOMEONE at home to help you for at least a week.” Lucas’s doctor glanced up from his chart. “No driving or lifting anything heavier than a comb, so someone will have to take you to your physical therapy sessions. Is Dr. Pinheiro back from his trip yet?”
No, Dr. Pinheiro is not back yet.
Lucas’s temper flared for a second before cooling down again. He knew the standard protocol. It was just irritating to have it recited to him by another doctor. And as far as his dear brother went, who knew when he’d blow back into town. Not that he needed Marcos to run behind him and wipe his nose any more. Those days were long gone.
Lucas steadfastly refused to glance at the quiet figure waiting in the far corner of the room and tried to work through his options. If he were in the States, he could call on any number of friends, or simply ask to be moved to a rehab center for a couple of weeks. But here...
“No, he’s not back, but—”
“I’ll be staying with him.” The soft voice made both men look up.
Lucas’s jaw clenched until it became a tight ball of muscle. “There’s no need.”
He somehow got the words out, though he still avoided looking directly at her. He’d already racked his brain during his week of hospitalization, searching for any glimmer of memory that included the slender wraith who always seemed to be hovering nearby. But he’d come up blank, despite what Marcos had said about the three of them sticking together at the orphanage. The guilt over that ate away at him, even though Sophia acted like it didn’t matter one way or the other.
Well, it mattered to him. He had very good recall when it came to women—and Sophia was not someone he would have forgotten.
Only she hadn’t been a woman back then. She’d been a young girl.
“Would you rather stay at my apartment?”
The wry suggestion finally made his eyes light on her, and they stared at each other for a full minute. She might have been teasing but he wasn’t in the mood for games right now. Especially not with the dark thoughts that careened through his head whenever he laid eyes on her. Thoughts that made him do a mental penance dance each time they arose. It had become a vicious cycle, one he’d have no hope of breaking if they were forced to shack up together.
No, it wouldn’t be shacking up.
As if aware of his thoughts, Sophia’s throat moved in a quick swallow. Maybe she was about to take back her offer.
Yes. Please do.
The doctor spoke up. “Well, I’ll leave you two to work out the details. Sophia, if you could free him from that IV? I’m sure he’ll be glad not to be dragging it behind him any more.”
Something flashed through her eyes and her teeth came down on her lip before she answered, “Of course, Doctor.”
Lucas couldn’t hold back a small smile. She’d been none too gentle when she’d jabbed the catheter back into his vein the other day. He could have sworn she had been trying to get a wince out of him.
For not remembering her?
There it went again. He really needed to stop dwelling on this.
The doctor left the room, and he was alone with her. His smile widened just a bit. “I could always unhook myself, you know, if it makes you more comfortable. I did it once before.”
“No, I’ll do it.” She moved to the counter with quick, precise motions, snapping on her gloves and getting a cotton ball and sticking plaster.
As soon as she was within reach, he wrapped his fingers around her wrist. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
“The doctor said to undo you.”
His thumb swept across her hand, grimacing when it met latex rather than the silky skin he knew lay beneath the gloves. “I’m not talking about the IV. I’m talking about you staying with me. I’m sure there are nurses I can hire. A...” He struggled to find the Portuguese equivalent of an LPN. “The kind that come to patients’ homes.”
Her brows went up in that indignant way he was coming to recognize. “You think I’m not qualified?”
Hell. How did he get himself into situations like this? “No, that’s not it. I just know that you’re busy with your job.”
“I don’t normally work at night. And the hospital is close to Marcos’s apartment.” She tugged her hand free. “Surely you can manage for a few hours here and there while I’m at work.”
Why was she so insistent? They were nothing to each other, and she’d made it pretty clear she didn’t want to have much to do with him. So to spend the night in the next room—at least, he figured it would be the next room. Who knew? Maybe the bedrooms were nowhere near each other. “Don’t you have someone waiting for you at home?”
She sucked in a breath then released it in a slow, steady current of air. “That doesn’t really have anything to do with this situation. You’re Marcos’s brother, and he’s a special friend.”
Exactly how special?
He shook his head clear of that thought. His brother had said he’d had trouble picturing Sophia as an adult so surely... Besides, Marcos and Maggie were evidently an item now. And Sophia didn’t act as if she was jealous. In fact, she seemed genuinely happy for them.
With gloved fingers she took hold of his arm. “You might want to look away.”
This time Lucas was the one who lifted his brows. “I think I can handle it.”
“Okay.” She put the cotton ball over the catheter and slid it free of his vein, then pressed on it lightly. “Hold this for a few seconds.”
He blinked at her then gave the arm in the sling a little wiggle, grimacing when it hurt more than he’d expected. “Kind of hard to do that right now.”
Her face turned pink. “Oh. That’s right. Sorry.” She kept pressure on his wrist with her thumb for a few seconds, fingers curling around his wrist. The contact lasted long enough that Lucas began to wish he’d used his chin or something else to hold onto that cotton ball as the warmth of her skin was quickly cutting through the chill of the room.
At last she eased the compression and lifted the gauze to look. “That should do it.” She dropped the cotton ball into a basin then quickly peeled apart a sticking plaster and applied it over the puncture mark.
Dragging a nearby chair to the bed, she dropped into it and regarded him with serious eyes.
“What?” For the first time he wished he actually had some real clothes on, because if a certain part of him decided to go rogue, it was going to be awfully difficult to conceal it.
“The doctor was right. We need to work out the details.”
“Of?” He decided to play stupid.
“How things between us are going to work.”
Okay, that rogue part was already feeling the heat.
Think of something else.
Should he refuse her offer of help? Or should he suck it up and decide to make the best of a bad situation? He’d asked her to tell him about their shared past, so he could look at it as a way to kill two birds with one stone. “How many bedrooms does Marcos’s apartment have?”
“Two, of course.” She leaned back and crossed her legs. “Otherwise I wouldn’t have offered to stay.”
“Right.” And she’d just made everything worse because now he was picturing a single shared bed and Sophia’s lush figure sprawled across the mattress.
She fiddled with the hem of her top. “Besides, you weren’t worried about the number of bedrooms a few minutes ago when you were talking about hiring a nurse.”
Bingo. But then again he doubted any other nurse was going to mess with his head the way this particular one did. And he had no idea why she affected him so much. He’d love to blame it on the pain meds, but as he’d refused to take anything yesterday or today, that was impossible.
“I wasn’t expecting a hired nurse to actually spend the night.”
“Oh. I think that’s what the doctor intended, though.” She smiled at him, her brow clearing. “I’ve taken the rest of the day off, so whenever you’re ready we can get your discharge papers signed and be on our way.”
Something about that rattled around in his brain for a moment or two before he realized what he was looking for. “You were already going to offer to stay with me, weren’t you, even before the doctor said anything? Why?”
“Because Marcos asked me to.”
Ah, yes. His brother, the saint. Sophia would never have agreed to do it on her own, evidently.
Even though he knew his waspish reaction was childish, he couldn’t help it. Lucas had often felt guilty over the years, wondering if his brother had been adopted as well. Finding out he hadn’t been...that he’d spent most of his childhood in that orphanage...was hard to swallow. He had no idea why his folks hadn’t taken them both, and by the time he’d been old enough to have asked, he’d rarely thought of the life he’d left behind in Brazil. And what memories he’d had weren’t ones that would make him proud.
And yet he’d permanently inscribed his father’s name on his arm, along with a rod of Asclepius and the words “Promises Kept” written beneath it. He did remember both he and his brother promising their father they’d become doctors—that they’d make him feel better. Of course they hadn’t been able to keep the last part of that promise. Their father had died, leaving them orphans.
To take his mind off those morbid thoughts, he slid off the bed and stood. “Well, since you seem determined to stay at the apartment, I do have one rule about this whole setup.”
“And what’s that?” Sophia stood as well.
“I don’t want any help in the bathroom. So if you could leave me to my own devices when I’m in there, I’d appreciate it.”
Her eyes went wide. “Tell me you don’t do drugs.”
What the hell?
“Of course not. Where’d you get that idea?”
“If you don’t want anyone near the bathroom while you’re there...”
“Because I intend to bathe and...” he shrugged “...do whatever else I need to do all by myself. I don’t need your help.”
A little scoffing sound came from her lips. “You might surprise yourself and actually ask for my help.”
That rogue part of him began stirring right on cue, forcing him to shift his stance.
She’s not helping you with anything, you idiot. The doctor—and Marcos—want her there in the event you have an aneurism or something.
Which might be now, actually, because he was desperately trying to keep his mind off the tightening sensation in his groin that just wouldn’t let up.
If she didn’t hurry and get him some pants, he was going to embarrass both of them. “Let’s just agree to play it by ear for the next couple of days. Now, if you could send me in the general direction of my clothes...”
“Oh, about that...”
She seemed flustered all of a sudden. Or maybe it was just his imagination.
“Is there a problem?”
“Yes. Kind of.” She made a production of sliding the chair back against the wall. When she faced him again, her face was back to that delicious pink color he was beginning to enjoy. “You don’t actually have any clothes.”
CHAPTER FOUR
“WHAT DO YOU mean, I don’t have any clothes?”
Lucas’s narrowed eyes made her want to take a step back but she forced herself to hold her ground. “You were shot, remember? Twice. You were bleeding profusely when you arrived, and we had to...cut them off.”
She expected him to focus in on the last part of her sentence, but instead his gaze sharpened. “We had to?”
Licking her lips, she tried to explain. “I don’t mean we, literally. I mean the team who worked on you.”
“I see.”
Did he? Because he sure didn’t act like it. She didn’t understand why he was so upset all of a sudden. He acted like they’d done something obscene to him while he’d been lying helpless on that table. “I assure you everyone acted professionally.”
“Were you there?”
“Well, no, but—”
“You weren’t?” The line of his jaw relaxed so suddenly that she found her own muscles untensing as well.
“No. None of us knew who you were when you arrived.” She hurried to add, “That ‘us’ is also figurative.”
“It’s okay.” He gave a half-shake of his head that seemed self-deprecating, his mouth twisting into a half-smile. And just like that his mood shifted back toward that of the charmingly flippant man who’d strolled toward her desk less than a week ago. The man whose ass she’d never quite got a good look at. “But I don’t think I should leave the hospital like this, do you?”
Her own lips curved. “It didn’t seem to bother you before. You’re lucky we didn’t have any cardiac patients milling around.”
Just then, the sound of some kind of commotion made its way through the heavy metal door, along with a shout. Sophia straightened, her head turning toward the noise.
“Socorro!”
The desperate cry for help grabbed her.
She threw a glance at Lucas. “Wait here.”
Pulling the door open in a rush, she saw a man standing at the nurses’ station wearing a gown just like Lucas’s, only he was holding something...waving it around. She couldn’t tell what it was. But what she did see turned her blood to ice. He’d grabbed the nurse on the other side of the desk by her wrist and looked like he was physically trying to drag her over the barrier. Then Sophia caught a glint from the thing he held in his other hand. A scalpel!
Deus!
She rushed forward, yelling at one of the other patients who’d peeked out of his room, “Dial 111! Tell Security we need someone up here now.”