Return to Mariposa

Chapter 9

Ididn’t move. There was something warm and wet on my face, but I didn’t care, I just wanted to crawl beneath the dashboard and hide.

Ian was swearing. My God, he was swearing with such obscene invention that I was awed, even as his fingers massaged the back of my neck.

“Are you all right?” he asked finally, as I struggled to sit up.

I was right—he’d driven straight into the woods, and the crumpled hood of the Alfa was pressed around a decent-sized tree. The windscreen was gone, the engine was hissing, but we were alive.

“Oh, God!” I cried and would have flung my arms around Ian the Wretch if he hadn’t jerked out of the way.

“You’re bleeding,” he said tersely. “Lie back.”

“I bet you say that to all the girls,” I mumbled, realizing what the warm, wet stuff was. He didn’t wait for me to move, simply pushed me back against the seat, and I would have protested if I’d had the energy.

“Shut up,” he snapped.

I opened one eye to look at him. He was unbuttoning the crisp white shirt he’d worn into town, and if my face hadn’t been bashed, I would have raised an eyebrow. “You’re stripping?” I managed to say, struggling to sit up.

He shrugged out of the shirt and pushed me back again. A moment later the soft cotton was held against the side of my face, and I felt some of the tension leave me. “Am I going to die?”

“No such luck, Bella-Beast.” He sounded shaken, something I wouldn’t have imagined. “You’ve got a cut on your forehead that’s going to bleed like a son of a bitch, but it’s not going to mar your gorgeousness. Maybe it’ll even give you character.”

I sank back, reaching for the makeshift bandage, only to encounter his hand. He pushed me away. “Just stay still. Someone will be here to get us before long, and in the meantime, I don’t want you jarring anything, at least not until we can get you checked out.

“Checked out where? The nearest hospital is forty-five miles away.”

“Still talking about miles and not kilometers?”

Shit.I let out an effective moan. I felt as if I’d been put in a blender—my brain and my body were all jumbled, and I was in no shape to carry off an elaborate masquerade with Ian watching me.

Fortunately, he didn’t wait for an answer. “There’s a clinic in Santa Maria that can take a look at you.” I could feel him move, and suddenly he was looming over me, blocking out the light. “Let me see your eyes.”

“Leave me alone,” I began, but of course, Ian paid no attention, checking one eye and then wiping enough blood away to check the other.

“You look okay—your pupils are the same size,” he said.

“And when did you become a doctor?” I grumbled.

“I have my uses.” He pressed the shirt against my head again. “Are you feeling sleepy? Nauseous?”

“No,” I said grumpily. “I’m fine. I just got a knock on the head, and that’ll be fine if I get some ice for it. I’m fine.”

“You’re fine,” he echoed, his voice mocking. “At least you aren’t crying.”

I’d been very much on the edge of tears but that brought me up short. Not that I should care one way or another about Ian’s contempt for me—nothing would change that.

“I hear the truck. Just lay still and try not to bleed anymore, okay?” Was there a tender note in his gruff voice? Of course not—there couldn’t be. Not from Ian the Wretch.

Even I could hear the rumble of the truck, and I wondered if it was the same one he’d used when he picked me up at the airport. Was I going to be lying in the back among the manure as they carted me off? Ian had already scrambled out of the front seat, and while I could hear the authoritative sound of his voice I couldn’t translate his rapid Spanish. My brain felt too scrambled. I reached for my own door, determined to be self-sufficient, but it wouldn’t open, and I realized it was jammed up against a sapling.

And then I heard him. Marcus’s rich voice, sounding appalled. “Jesus, Ian! Jesus! What the hell happened?”

“Alfa malfunctioned,” he said shortly.

I turned, and out of my one clear eye I could see that Marcus’s perfect golden tan had faded and he was white with shock.

“But Bella should have been driving. Since when does she allow anyone else to drive her beloved Alfa?”

Shit, I’d forgotten that. Bella’d been a new driver when I left Mariposa—I’d assumed she’d grown out of that possessiveness. Then again, Bella had always been the possessive type, whether something or someone was really hers or not.

Two men had helped me out of the car, and at least I was standing on my own, not wavering, Ian’s shirt pressed to my head. “I didn’t feel like driving,” I said.

Marcus finally remembered I was there, and his bright smile should have dazzled me. It didn’t. “Bella, my angel!” he cried. “I was so frightened for you and Ian! What in the world happened?”

“I told you—car trouble,” Ian said impatiently. “We need to get her down to the clinic...”

“No need,” Marcus said, taking one of my arms and leaning over me in what was supposed to be a comforting gesture. It made me claustrophobic. “I had them send Dr. Madhur up to the big house—he can check her there and that way she doesn’t have to go racketing all over the place. You’d rather just go home, wouldn’t you, Bella?”

I made the mistake of nodding my head, the pain increasing at the gesture, and Marcus put his beefy arm around me, leading me to a passenger van that looked marginally cleaner than the farm truck. It wasn’t until I was tucked into the passenger’s seat that I realized we’d left Ian behind.

“Shouldn’t Ian be checked as well?”

Marcus gave me his magnificent smile. “You know Ian—unless a limb’s been severed, he doesn’t take it seriously. He’ll be fine. I still don’t understand what happened to the car, though. It’s been serviced and checked on a regular basis—there’s no reason it should break down.”

For some reason, I didn’t feel like elaborating. My head was throbbing in time with my heartbeat, and I just wanted to curl up and sleep. I roused myself. “It’s not good to let cars just sit around. Things can freeze up, malfunction.”

“Is that what happened?”

“Ask Ian.” I leaned back, a little light-headed as Mariposa came into view. It was early evening, the sun gilding the white stucco walls and blanketing the surrounding olive groves, and I was very tired.

Dr. Madhur was young, efficient, and concerned as he poked and prodded me. Marcus had ushered me up to my room, holding my hand in his big, beefy one while the doctor stitched me up, all the while murmuring comforting words that I didn’t want to hear.

“Is Ian all right?” I asked once he was finished with his handiwork and I was bandaged. My clothes were stiff with dried blood, and I felt sticky and just the slightest bit dizzy.

“Nothing bothers Ian,” Marcus said heartily, and I wished he’d lower his voice.

“You’re going to need to watch her,” Dr. Madhur said as he packed up his instruments of torture. “She might have a slight concussion—she really needs to be in hospital for observation.”

“She’s better off here,” Marcus said firmly. “We can look after her as well as anyone. We’ll take turns.”

Dr. Madhur grumbled under his breath like an old man. “You’ll need to wake her every hour to make sure she’s still alert, and keep the wound iced. Call me if she has any nausea, if her pupils are of a different size, call me if anything seems wrong.”

“Ian’s a trained EMT,” Marcus said. “I’ll call him if there’s trouble. She’ll be fine. She’s very dear to us all—we won’t let anything happen to her.”

Bella was very dear to them all, not me. For one horrified moment, I wondered whether I’d said that aloud, but no one even glanced at me, so I assumed I’d just thought it.

“See that she stays quiet and comfortable. No alcohol, small meals, and make sure she’s alert. That’s the best I can offer.”

“She’ll be fine,” Marcus said with his usual good-humored charm, ushering the doctor from the room, leaving me alone.

I sat up, very carefully, and set the ice pack on the table. I was a mess—my clothes were sticking to my skin, and while he’d cleaned the wound, he hadn’t done anything with my neck and shoulder. The silk outfit was ruined, not that I cared, and I wanted nothing more than one of the loose cotton shifts I’d bought. They were probably still in the smashed Alfa, but I was damned if I was going to lie around in the heat like this. No one had even opened the casement windows to let the evening breeze in, and I was hot and miserable.

Reaching for the pearl buttons, I began to undo them, one by one, and I’d just finished when the door opened again, without warning, and of course it just had to be Ian.

I quickly yanked the blouse back around me. “You could knock,” I said in a cranky voice.

“And you could wait for help,” he replied, shutting the door behind him and moving into the room. He looked completely unruffled after our harrowing afternoon, and I wanted to kick him. For some reason, I always wanted to kick Ian the Wretch.

“Go away,” I grumbled, glaring at him.

“No.” Fortunately he went straight to the shuttered windows and opened them, and the resulting breeze blew over my overheated body like a blessing. “Lie back down.”

“Go away,” I said again.

“Lie back down or I’ll make you.” He disappeared into my bathroom and I could hear the water running. I lay back on the bed, not because he told me to but because my head ached.

A moment later he was back with a pile of towels. “Move over,” he said. “I need to clean you up.”

“Absolutely not! I can take care of myself,” I protested.

“Not right now, you can’t, and there’s no female around to preserve your modesty. Valerie has gone for a hike, and Mary Alice says she faints at the sight of blood, which I find hard to believe. Besides, your modesty doesn’t exist and never has. I’ve lost count of the number of times you’ve stripped down in front of me to swim nude, not to mention the many views I’ve had of your ridiculous tattoo.”

Ice sliced through my veins. “My tattoo?” Bella had never mentioned that she’d acquired a tattoo.

He sat down beside me, so close his hip touched mine, and I quickly scuttled out of the way. “The bird in the bush. The hummingbird in your pubic hair, though come to think of it, last time you stripped down, you’d shaved everything. Sort of ruined the effect.”

I just stared at him with glazed eyes. How could Bella have forgotten to tell me? Why had she insisted on buying me string bikinis that I would never have worn in the first place? What if I’d been braver than she thought?

Coming here had been far more adventurous than I would have thought myself capable, and Ian was right. Bella had always been an exhibitionist, and off the top of my head I could think of no reason why she might have changed.

“Maybe I just don’t want you ogling me,” I said stiffly.

“You want everyone to ogle you, Bella-Beast. Especially me.” Before I could ask him what he meant, he’d reached for the ruined blouse and slowly pulled it away from my skin. It stuck for a moment, then came loose, and I let out a little gasp.

“Did I hurt you?” Oddly enough, he sounded as though he actually cared one way or the other.

“No. Look, can’t you just let me...?”

He pushed the blouse off my shoulder, and my head hurt too much to fight him. I let him divest me of the blouse and then I lay back against the pillows, clad only in my lavender lace bra. He wasn’t getting my pants off me, but I could still be glad I hadn’t worn the matching thong—butt floss was not my idea of comfort.

The warm, wet towel felt like heaven against my skin, and I let out a sigh of pure pleasure, closing my eyes in appreciation. In the long run, Ian was going to do what he wanted, and it was a waste of time to fight him. I simply stayed still and let him wash the blood from my body with the lavender-scented soap that had always reminded me of Mariposa.

I lay back against the pillows again once he’d done, only to feel his hand beneath my bra strap. I slapped it. “We can leave the bra on.”

“There’s blood on it.”

“I’ll survive.”

Dead silence, and I cautiously opened my eyes. He was still sitting beside me, a dry towel in his hands. “So you got a boob job?” he said.

I wished I could remember some of the curses he’d come out with when we’d hit that tree. “Of course not!” I shot back, incensed.

“Well, all my life you’ve been exposing a rather minimal B cup, and now suddenly you’re a generous C. I would have thought you’d go a lot larger if you were going for implants, but I have to say this is a nice improvement.”

I slammed my arms over my breasts. “I don’t have implants,” I said through clenched teeth. “No one gets implants for a thirty-six C.”

If Ian had a sense of humor, I might almost think he was smiling. “Then nature has been extremely generous in the last five years.”

It took me a moment to realize what his words meant. He was comparing me to Bella and complimenting me, whether he realized it or not. “Thank you,” I said stiffly. “I think.”

“Oh, you don’t need me falling at your feet like everyone else, Bella-Beast.”

What would Bella Do? “No, you’ve never been susceptible, have you?” I managed Bella’s husky drawl.

“Only once,” he replied.

And my stomach dropped.

He rose then, scooping up the soiled towels and dumping them in the hallway. When he came back, he had a crumpled paper bag in his hand, and he tossed it on the bed. “These should be a lot more comfortable than your usual designer clothes,” he said. “There’s blood on the bag, but the dresses inside are fine.”

I could have kissed him. And then he ruined everything. “I’ll be more than happy to take your pants off for you.”

“Go away, Ian,” I said wearily. “I can take care of the rest.”

“Maybe you’d like me to send Marcus back up. He was never very good at a sickbed, but I’m certain he’d love to strip you down and enjoy those new breasts of yours.”

“Don’t you dare!” I snapped. For some reason, the very thought of Marcus putting those big hands on me made me feel uncomfortable. That was ridiculous—I’d dreamed about those hands, about the body attached to them, for half my life. “I just want to be left alone.”

“’Fraid I can’t do that, Bella-Beast. We have orders to check on you hourly. For now you can rest, but I’ll be back with food before long and you’re going to need to eat something.”

I wanted to protest but my stomach suddenly perked up at the thought of food. “Do what you must,” I said in resigned tones, and without a backward glance, he headed for the door. I waited until he’d reached it, then my damnable conscience once more reared its ugly head. “And Ian?”

He turned. “What?”

“Thank you for helping me clean up. And for that matter, thank you for saving my life.”

He simply stared at me for a long moment. “Will wonders never cease?” he marveled. “Bella being grateful! Amazing.”

A moment later he was gone.

There is absolutelynothing worse than being ripped from a deep, comforting sleep, hour after hour. First, Marcus did the honors, trying to engage my sleepy brain in conversation, then Maldonado took over, and I counted my blessings. Valerie appeared sometime in the dead of night, all brisk efficiency, and even Mary Alice wafted in, took a cursory glance, and wafted out. They must have tired of it, because I gratefully sank into a deeper sleep around three in the morning, according to my obnoxiously bright bedside clock, and I didn’t even dream.

It was still dark when I awoke next, this time of my own volition, with just the faintest tendrils of light spearing into the cavernous bedroom, but I knew I was no longer alone.

“Ian,” I said in a sleep-croaked voice, knowing it was him.

“Go back to sleep,” he said. “You’re doing okay.”

I shifted in the bed. “Then why are you here?”

“Someone needed to look after you. Marcus was ready to bed down beside you, but I decided you didn’t need the distraction.”

My instinctive relief was a surprise, but I said nothing. “I thought someone was supposed to wake me every hour?”

“We all did. Even Mary Alice deigned to take her turn. The rest of the time it’s been me making sure you didn’t slip into a coma or something equally gruesome.”

“I’m surprised you bothered. Given how much you hate me, I’d think you’d prefer if I never woke up.”

“Don’t go feeling sorry for yourself.” His voice was low in the darkness, almost beguiling. “You’ve got everyone else at your feet.”

“You really do hate me?” I sounded forlorn at the thought, and I could have kicked myself. The middle of the night was a dangerous time for me—I was much more vulnerable. It was Bella he hated, not Kitty. And Bella would never sound forlorn.

I could feel his hesitation. “I don’t hate the woman I was with today.”

Danger, Will Robinson. I should have ignored it, but I couldn’t. “What does that mean?”

“It means that you handled the accident with surprising grace, and you haven’t been trying any of your manipulative tricks. I can give credit where credit is due.”

I would be a fool to push further, having him start wondering why this Bella was different than the others. I changed the subject. “Marcus said you were trained as an EMT.”

“Yes.”

Not the beginning of a great conversation. “Why?”

“With an operation this size, you need to have someone who can deal with emergencies. It only made sense.”

“And you’re very sensible.” I said. Cold and sensible and disapproving.

“I do my best. Go back to sleep.” His voice wasn’t nearly as harsh as it had been. “You need it.”

I shifted in the bed again, restless and frustrated. I knew what bothered me, as illogical as it was. I wanted Ian to like me. It made no sense at all; Bella had always mocked Ian the Wretch, and like the little toady I’d been, I went right along with it. I had no reason to change my mind.

And yet I was seeing him differently without Bella’s influence. He no longer seemed overshadowed by his conventionally handsome brother, and he was surprisingly human once you got past his sarcasm. And there was the kiss. One mustn’t forget that. As if there was even the slightest possibility of doing so.

Despite the shock of it, it had been the best kiss of my life, and I still didn’t know why he’d done it, why he’d kissed Bella-Beast, the bane of his existence.

“Why did you kiss me?” The words were out before I could stop them.

He laughed in the darkness. “What made you think of that? Were you wanting more? Sorry, I don’t think it’s a good idea until we’re certain your head’s okay.”

I ignored his attempt at provoking me. “I was curious.”

There was a long silence, as the predawn light began to slowly infiltrate my bedroom. “I wanted to see if you tasted the same as the last time I’d kissed you.”

Ian had kissed Bella! It was inconceivable—Bella had delighted in teasing him. But what had he said before? Something about not being impervious on one occasion. The very thought was unsettling. For some reason, I felt as if they’d both betrayed me.

“Do you want me to kiss you again?” His voice was very low, enticing.

“No, thank you,” I said politely, though it was an effort to keep my voice light. “In fact, you can go away now.”

To my shock, he rose, appearing out of the shadows, tall and lean. He was barefoot, dressed in jeans and an unbuttoned chambray shirt, and for what might be the first time, I realized how handsome he was. Not a perfect blond god like Marcus, all rippling muscles and shining teeth and bewitching blue eyes. No, Ian had a more subtle beauty. It was in the way he carried himself, the lines of his face, even the impatience in his dark eyes. It seemed as if he were always impatient with me, and I couldn’t blame him. I was just as frustrated.

We were never going to be friends.

He moved over to the bed, and all my senses went into overdrive, while my brain went sailing out the window. Was he going to touch me? Kiss me?

Apparently not. “I’ll be driving you into the clinic later today, just to make sure you’re completely all right. Don’t bother arguing.”

I wanted to. Still, where would the harm be? Bella hadn’t been around for five years, and it was clear last night that the doctor hadn’t known her.

But the real Bella wouldn’t want to go off with Ian. “Couldn’t Marcus take me?” I demanded, mostly because I wanted to see his reaction.

He didn’t give me one. “Suit yourself. I’ll give him a heads up.”

Rats. I didn’t want to drive all the way over to Santa Maria with Marcus, and I wasn’t going to worry about wondering why. “Maybe you’d better drive me,” I said reluctantly.

He was starting to leave, but he stopped and looked at me. “Don’t you need Marcus for your daily infusion of flattery? You can’t expect it from me.”

“You mean you don’t find me attractive?” I managed a lazy drawl. The sun was brightening beyond the windows and I could see him more clearly. This was what Bella would do, taunt him and toy with him. And of course he found me attractive, everyone found Bella attractive, and I was wearing her mask.

He looked me up and down, a considering expression on his narrow, clever face, and I suddenly regretted my question. “Do you want me to?”

His words hung in the air, a taunt, and I could feel my face color. Bella would never blush—I expect she was constitutionally incapable of doing so. “Hardly!” My voice was haughty. A sudden thought struck me, and I said it before I could think better of it. “I remember you had a mad crush on me when you were younger. I just wasn’t sure you’d outgrown it.”

He took a step toward me. “I outgrew it long ago, Bella.”

“Then what was the real reason you kissed me?” I demanded, beyond frustrated.

His smile was slow, wicked, reaching his eyes. “You’re just going to have to figure that out, aren’t you?”

I stared at his retreating figure and I wanted to throw something at him. He just would have laughed, so instead, I slumped back down in the bed, ignoring both my headache and the weird, restless feeling that infused my body. Ian the Wretch was living up to his name, curse him. Even Bella at her grandest hadn’t been able to vanquish him, and I was small potatoes compared to her. In a battle of wills, I would never win. The best I could hope for was a draw, and I was determined to wrest that much from our contentious interactions. I’d grown a lot stronger in the last twelve years—I might not win in our battle, but neither would he.

I shouldn’t have been able to fall back asleep, given the emotions running through me, but it wasn’t even full light. I drifted off, only to be jerked away by Marcus bounding into my bedroom like an athlete about to take the field.

He was gorgeous in the full sunlight, wearing a pale pink polo shirt and white jeans that fit his massive thighs and tight ass. “Bella, my sweet! How are you feeling?” His voice was very loud, and the fading trace of my headache flared for a moment.

“I’m good,” I said in a softer voice, trying to contain his puppy-dog enthusiasm. “I just need my coffee.”

“Of course you do. And Granda wants us to have it with him, so I thought I’d hurry you along. Do get dressed, that’s a good girl, and we’ll see what the old man wants.”

I didn’t like being told to “be a good girl” and I was instinctively wary of anything Granda might want to discuss with us both. “Will Ian be there?”

“Ian? Why would you care where Ian is? You never liked him.”

The last time I kissed you. Ian’s words stuck in my head, along with the accompanying annoyance. Bella must have liked him well enough at least one time. In fact, it had driven Bella crazy that she could never charm Ian the way she charmed everyone else.

I gave him a cheerful, entirely false smile. “I don’t. I was just curious.”

Marcus shrugged. He had a swimmer’s build—massive shoulders and chest, lean hips and long, muscled legs. He was every woman’s fantasy. Why was he no longer mine?

At least that made my life easier. “I’ll need a few minutes to get ready,” I temporized. “Why don’t you go on up?”

“You’ll need an hour or more, and I don’t want to be the focus of Granda’s attention for that long. He always looks as if he’s expecting more from me.”

Bella never hurried for anyone but herself, but I was too restless to spend an hour primping. “I’ll be ready in half that time.”

“Then I’ll come back and accompany you. Always the gentleman, you know,” he said brightly.

I didn’t really need another shower but I took one anyway, washing the last of the blood from my bleached and permed pre-Raphaelite curls. It was a lucky thing I wore my own wavy hair in a long braid—Bella without her signature curls would be a lot harder to pull off.

I couldn’t get by without changing my contacts and doing a quick version of Bella’s elaborate makeup routine. My face was thinner than hers, my cheekbones higher, my mouth wider. Makeup could take care of most of that, and the simple fact that they expected me to be Bella would take care of the rest.

And yet for some reason, I was feeling less confident in my disguise. I needed to finish up and get out of here. My car was now crashed, but I expected I could talk Marcus into finding me some transportation. I needed to get away from Mariposa and the thousands of stolen memories. I needed to get away from Ian’s dark, assessing eyes. I needed to get away.