Never Say Never, page 14
“Nothing,” Dinah backtracked. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, yes you do!” Malcolm roared, stepping toward her. “Why don’t you finish what you started, Dinah?” He returned to the use of her first name. “You started down a path. Why sensor yourself. Since we’re talking”—he imitated quotation marks— “then why don’t you say what’s really on your mind? Tell me how you truly feel.”
Dinah frantically glanced around the room for her purse. Once she found it, she walked to the front door. “I’m not going to do this. I’m not going to feed into your masochism. Kindly take me back to the hotel.” She rushed toward the front door.
“Why are you running, Dinah? Are you too afraid to reveal the real truth?!”
“And what might that be?”
“That you blame me,” Malcolm hissed. His eyes met his mother’s from across the living room and they were as cold as ice. Dinah’s blood ran cold seeing that lethal look in his eye. It was the same look she’d seen the night Michael died, when the light had gone out of Malcolm’s eyes.
“That’s right.” He saw her café-au-lait coloring turn scarlet at the statement. “Yes, Dinah.” Malcolm nodded. “Can’t we be ‘honest’ here? Admit that you blame me for Michael’s death.”
“No.” Dinah shook her head.
But Malcolm wouldn’t stop. He continued to press her. “I’m the one that misdiagnosed Michael’s heart condition, right? Admit that you hold me responsible.”
“Alright!” Dinah yelled, unable to hear anymore accusations. “Yes,” she screamed back at him. “Yes, I hold you responsible. You … you were the renowned cardiologist. You should have seen the tear in his aorta.”
Malcolm’s expression turned to stone. “Finally.” He clapped his hands. “Finally, you say what’s been in your heart this entire time. Thank you, Mother. It’s nice to know that you think I murdered my own brother.” He stormed toward the door. “If you collect your things, I’ll take you back to your hotel.”
The instant she’d said the words, Dinah wished she could take them back, but it was too late. “Malcolm, I know you didn’t mean …,” she began, but he was already out the door.
The second he was outside in the fresh, clean air, Malcolm wondered why he’d called his mother out on her feelings regarding Michael’s death. Why couldn’t I let sleeping dogs lie? Could it be because I think she’s right?
Chapter 14
A week later, on the spur of the moment, Sabrina decided to stop by Malcolm’s home on Tybee Island. She’d been so busy working at the B&B, registering for college classes and preparing for her ex-husband’s pending visit that she needed to focus on something else. Tre had phoned a few nights ago to tell her he’d be visiting Savannah in a couple of weeks before Jasmine started school. Sabrina had in no way prompted the call. Tre had decided to visit all on his own; and although Sabrina hated the idea of his coming, she knew it would make Jasmine’s summer.
Today, the possibility of catching Malcolm at home excited her, though it also filled her with some apprehension. She hadn’t heard from him after that night at her parents’ house, and considering the passionate way he had said goodbye, her mind raced over the reasons why he hadn’t called. Did I do something to push him away? Why is he keeping me at arm’s length? Weren’t we getting closer?
Sabrina discovered from Nurse Turner that Malcolm had moved out of Parker House and into his remodeled home. Driving on Ninety-five, she pulled off the road and into a beautiful residential district on Tybee Island. When she pulled up in front of the house, she was surprised at how traditional it was. The exterior had been given a complete update as had the carport, which now housed Malcolm’s Jag. Sabrina pulled alongside it.
She knew she had her work cut out for her because from what she’d heard from Nurse Turner, Malcolm hadn’t been to the clinic in a week. She’d rescheduled all of his appointments, which meant he’d had a lot of free time on his hands to brood. Today, she was determined to make him talk about whatever was troubling him as well as let him know that she wanted him with the same intensity that he wanted her.
Turning off the ignition, Sabrina stepped out of her convertible wearing a bias-cut skirt, camisole and matching sweater. Closing the door behind her, she prepared to face Malcolm.
She opened the white picket fence gate then climbed the wooden porch steps of the two-story pale-green house. Glancing around, she saw a father and son playing with their dog and an elderly man watering his lawn. It was so surreal for Sabrina to picture Malcolm in this family setting. There was so much more to the man than even she’d realized.
Nervous tension ran through her veins as she pressed the doorbell. Several minutes passed and when no one answered, Sabrina knocked on the glass door. When he still didn’t appear, she banged even harder until Malcolm had no choice but to answer if he wanted the racket to end.
Sabrina began to wonder if he were there, when the door suddenly swung open and Malcolm appeared shirtless, bathed in sweat and holding a hammer. He looked haggard and exhausted. Seven-day-old stubble surrounded his regal jaw while he wore paint-splattered blue jeans. Her eyes roved over him. His body was so incredible to look at that Sabrina stuttered, “Ma-Malcolm?” Sabrina nearly lost her voice.
“Sabrina,” Malcolm greeted her in a husky whisper. “What are you doing here?”
“I came to surprise you.”
“Trust me, I’ve had enough surprises.”
“Indeed.” Sabrina smiled. “Can I come in?” She tried stepping inside, but Malcolm blocked the doorway.
“Now isn’t it a good time,” he muttered.
So, she was in for a battle. Well, Malcolm would soon discover that she was just as stubborn as he and that she didn’t cower easily, at least not anymore.
Sabrina found her voice. “Yes, well, uh … I was in the neighborhood and thought I’d finally stop by and see this masterpiece you’ve been working on for months,” she said, squeezing underneath his arm and rushing inside before he could stop her.
Malcolm couldn’t resist smiling at her ingenuity. At five foot two, Sabrina sure could maneuver through tiny spots.
Before Malcolm closed the door, he asked, “Where’s Jazzy?” He looked around for his ray of sunshine. He could use that right now.
“I’m sorry. I came alone,” Sabrina responded. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Yeah, it’s fine. Now that you’re here, would you like a tour of the house?” He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand.
“Yes, I’d love one.” When she entered the hallway, the smell of oak greeted her and tickled her nose. “The floors are beautiful, Malcolm,” Sabrina commented as she walked into the empty living room. “And this fireplace,” she said as she walked over to the mantel and ran her fingers across the cold marble, “it’s magnificent. Does it work?”
“Of course. What would be the purpose in having a fireplace and not using it? Let me show you the rest of the house.” Malcolm’s arms swung open.
When he was several feet away, Sabrina turned and found his gaze riveted on her in a lazy appraisal. The sexual magnetism emanating from him entranced her and she couldn’t stop staring at his bare rock-hard chest. It made her want to touch him. Feel the strength and warmth of his flesh against hers in a purely sensual way, but she didn’t dare be that bold. So she moved away and continued touring the house.
The parlor, study and dining room had been beautifully restored like the rest of the house. Most of the rooms were empty except for his study, which he’d decorated with the furniture from Boston that had been in storage. But he still needed help with the living room and parlor. His current modern living room set had no place in a house like this.
“Everything looks good,” she commented, glancing around the kitchen. It was completely masculine, with hardwood floors, maple cabinets and stainless steel appliances. The two large windows by the sink overlooked a small retention pond with a lapping fountain. “But it could use a woman’s touch. Like some curtains,” Sabrina suggested.
Malcolm watched Sabrina from the doorway, wondering why she’d come. “Are you volunteering?” he asked.
“Maybe, but then again, that would mean you would have to return my calls.”
“I’ve had a lot on my mind. There’s a lot you don’t know.”
“So why don’t you tell me?”
“You wouldn’t understand my crazy family dynamics.”
Sabrina fumed over his refusal to open up and share his feelings, so instead she glared out the side window at a happy older couple taking in their groceries.
When she remained silent, Malcolm tried again, “Listen, Sabrina”—he jumped up and sat on his island counter—“I’m going through something right now and I just need time alone.”
Sabrina spun around. “What could have happened within the last week that would change you this drastically?”
“I don’t want to discuss it,” he said, avoiding her eyes and looking at a spot on the wall. He couldn’t bear looking into those beautiful light-brown eyes for fear he’d lose himself in them. Would that be so bad? his inner voice asked.
“Well, you’re going to.” Sabrina walked toward him and stood in between Malcolm’s legs.
“Sabrina.” Malcolm tried pushing her away by the shoulders, but she ignored him and lightly caressed his chin.
“Don’t even think of acting like you’re unaffected by me, because I know otherwise,” Sabrina said, touching his messy hair. For once it wasn’t perfectly combed. She inhaled deeply and plunged ahead. “Why don’t you tell me what’s going on, Malcolm? I’m here to listen, just like I was the night you lost Mr. Gibson.”
“I can’t.” He lowered his head.
“Yes, you can. You just have to try.” Sabrina cupped his chin and he lifted his head to meet her gaze. “Wouldn’t it be nice to talk to someone?”
“I can’t do that to you.” Malcolm jumped off the island.
Sabrina refused to be dismissed. “And why not?” she said, turning her head and glancing up at him. “I’ve got strong shoulders. I can handle it.” She posed for him, revealing her buff forearms.
“I don’t deserve you.”
“Why on earth would you say something like that?”
“Because I don’t, but if you refuse to leave then I guess I’ll burden you. C’mon.” Malcolm grasped her hand and led her to his study. It was the only comfortable place to sit and talk, considering his limited accommodations.
Once they were seated on the leather reading sofa, Malcolm recounted the details of Michael’s diagnosis and subsequent death.
“How could I have missed the tear?” Malcolm’s voice broke as he relived the last few weeks of his brother’s life.
“Didn’t you say it’s nearly impossible to diagnose?”
“Yes. But I should have let another physician check him out. I was too close to assess the situation and provide an unbiased opinion.” Malcolm ran his fingers through his wildly unkempt hair. “I should have known better.”
“Oh, Malcolm.” Sadness filled Sabrina’s eyes as she thought about the depth of grief that Malcolm must be experiencing. The guilt he must be feeling over the loss of his brother had to be tremendous, which would explain his life-altering decision to give up practicing cardiology full time. Clearly, he loved medicine too much to give it up completely, but in his role as a family practitioner, heart patients would be few and far between.
“I’m so sorry for your loss.” Sabrina cried for him. “What can I do? Is there anything I can do for you?”
Malcolm shook his head. There was nothing anyone could do; he’d have to live with the guilt for the rest of his life. “No. I wish there were, but there’s more. I’m not done with the story.”
“There’s more?” How much more can he possibly handle?
“Yes,” Malcolm continued. He realized that Sabrina was right—telling someone what was going on made him feel less alone, less isolated. “My mother was here for a visit.”
“When?”
“Last week.”
Understanding dawned on Sabrina’s face. That’s why she hadn’t heard from him. “And what happened?”
Malcolm let out a long, reluctant sigh. “She said that she held me accountable for Michael’s death.”
“No!” Horror crossed Sabrina’s face and her eyebrows furrowed together.
“Oh, yes, she did. Though I don’t know why it upsets me so much. It’s not like it’s something I haven’t already thought myself a thousand times.”
“But, Malcolm, it’s not your fault.”
“Wasn’t it? Maybe subconsciously I wanted him to die for some reason. I mean he was the twin everyone adored. He was the center of Dinah’s life. I was always left out in the cold wishing for just a little bit of that attention.” Malcolm stood up and bit back the tears that stung at his eyes. He didn’t want Sabrina to see him like this. So weak. So unglued.
“No, no, no.” Sabrina rose and grabbed Malcolm’s hand. “That’s not true. Not the gentleman I know that has cared for my daughter like she were his own,” she replied defiantly. “I refuse to believe it. And you can’t convince me otherwise.”
Malcolm looked down at his little spitfire and attempted a half-hearted smile. “Wow, such an impassioned speech! Has anyone ever told you that you’re amazing?”
“Not recently. He’s been a little preoccupied,” Sabrina answered.
“I’m sorry, Sabrina.”
“It’s okay. I just hope next time you know that you can tell me anything because I always fight for the people I care about.”
“And you care about me?”
“Of course, I do,” Sabrina said nervously. “Why else would I be here?”
“Why else indeed?” Malcolm wondered aloud.
Even though she’d said the words, Malcolm could feel Sabrina’s anxiety though they’d yet to really make love. Was she afraid of the emotions going on in her head and her body? Didn’t she know that he understood how she felt? It had been a long time since he’d shared a woman’s company—hell, even wanted a woman’s company, but his desire for Sabrina was rapidly rising and he could no longer deny it. He wanted her in his bed.
Malcolm didn’t want to wait any longer for what he knew they both desired. She wanted him too and he intended to show her just how much he wanted her.
He swept Sabrina into his arms and kissed her with all the fire and passion that had been burning inside him for weeks.
Desire flooded Sabrina as Malcolm’s hands quickly dispensed with her sweater and then crept upward to cup her breasts over the exterior of her camisole. At his touch, her full breasts rose and Malcolm bent down to have his first taste. He teased them over the damp fabric and inhaled deeply. Sabrina smelled of lavender and tasted as sweet as a Georgia peach.
The feel of Malcolm’s bare chest against hers sent Sabrina into overdrive. Burying her face in his neck, she responded by planting hot, moist kisses on Malcolm’s neck, burning a path of fire all the way to his earlobe before laving it generously with her tongue. He moaned sensuously when she continued kissing the pulsing hollow at the base of his throat. When she suckled on the spot, Malcolm stopped her before he lost control.
“So you are not afraid that your feelings for me have deepened to something more than friendship?” he asked her in a passion-filled haze.
“No,” she responded huskily. “You and I have been fighting this for some time. It’s time.”
“Oh, yes, it is. And I promise you we’ll both enjoy it.”
With two long strides backward, he pinned her against the wall, reclaiming her lips. His mouth covered hers hungrily as he devoured every inch of her honeyed softness.
“Do you know how much I want you?” he whispered against her earlobe as he helped rid her of her camisole.
Just about as much as I want you, Sabrina thought, responding to his demanding kisses with equal fervor.
While his mouth claimed hers, his hands explored every inch of her fevered flesh and when he eased the lacy cup of her bra aside to fasten his lips on one small turgid peak, Sabrina didn’t stop him. She couldn’t think, let alone speak. She felt transported on a soft and wispy cloud. When Malcolm finally turned to the other breast and, with equal attention, bathed it with his hot, wet tongue, Sabrina finally succumbed and gave in to the desire rising within her.
“How does that feel?” Malcolm whispered huskily as his teeth teased one swollen nipple.
“So good, so good,” Sabrina moaned aloud, arching her back.
At that moment Malcolm knew that Sabrina Parker was finally his for the taking. He wanted to undress her slowly, savor each moment and worship her luxurious body. Lifting her off the floor, he quickly marched out of the study and up the stairs.
He took the steps two at a time and at the bedroom entrance, he kicked the door open and stalked over with Sabrina in his arms to his king-sized poster bed. As soon as he lowered her feet to the floor, Sabrina took over. Her arms reached out and encircled his waist while her hands and fingers traveled the length of his back. When she squeezed his buttocks, Malcolm let out a tormented groan. He’d fantasized about this moment and now his fantasy was fast becoming a reality.
“Are you sure you’re ready for this?” he asked, because he wasn’t sure he could stop once they started.
“I’m not a china doll, Malcolm. You don’t have to treat me with kid gloves. Trust me, if I didn’t want to be with you, I wouldn’t be here.”
Unzipping her skirt, Malcolm let it fall in a puddle on the floor, allowing him better access to the soft lines of her waist and her hips. He fell to his knees so he could explore the soft lusciousness of her thighs. When he reached down to caress her intimately, he found her bikini underwear slick and wet.
Oh, yes, Sabrina was ready for him. Malcolm hooked on to the tiny fabric and skimmed it down her shapely thighs and legs before tossing it over his shoulder. Before long, Sabrina would be screaming out his name.
