His Golden Heart (19 page)

Shayna cantered toward them. Up close Reggie’s pallor was gray and a thin sheen of sweat beaded his forehead and upper lip. He’d been nervous about mounting a horse to begin with and was visibly shaken now that his had actually bolted, how would he handle the rest of the ride?

“Take a couple of deep breaths,” Beau instructed.

“You’re all in one piece. There’s been no real harm done. Horses get spooked. You’ll have to learn to work with them.”

“What are you, some expert?” Reggie snarled.

“Reggie,” Shayna admonished. “Beau just saved your butt. The appropriate response would be thank you.”

“Thank you,” the teenager reluctantly added.

“Ride ahead,” Beau ordered, out of the corner of his mouth. “I’ll handle this.”

Shayna bristled. Why was he dismissing her? She was on his side. She’d insisted he receive the respect he deserved. Serve her right for taking Beau’s side over her brother’s.

The two males began an intense conversation behind her. Shayna couldn’t make out the words but sensed the discussion was direct. Heated. Honest. Eventually they seemed to work out whatever it was and had apparently found common ground. She couldn’t imagine what they were talking about. Beau was not into basketball as far as she knew. When fifteen minutes elapsed and they still lagged behind, Shayna brought her horse to a full stop and let Scotch graze.

Deep male laughter came from behind her. She’d never understand men.

“Care to share the joke?” she asked, as the men approached.

“Nope, it’s private. Male bonding, right, Beau?” Reggie answered, his attitude tucked away for the moment.

“Right.”

Whatever Beau had said had been the right thing. Reggie’s hostility had disappeared.

“Well, we sure worked up a good appetite,” Beau announced, cantering up to her. “Barbecue certainly sounds good about now, that, and a nice stiff drink. How are you holding up?”

In spite of Reggie’s recent crisis Beau seemed relaxed and at ease. He obviously loved being outdoors. Loved an adrenaline rush. Shayna could only imagine if he was this pumped up pursuing a runaway horse what he must have been like on the slopes. She was suddenly determined that he would not only walk again, but he would ski. She would push him.

Feeling more confident now, Reggie cantered ahead of them. He now held the reins the way Beau instructed.

“Catch me if you can,” he taunted.

“Not a chance, champ,” Beau said playfully, deliberately slowing his horse down and allowing Reggie to take the lead. He slanted a look at Shayna. “I’m glad you came. Both of you.”

“I wanted to be here.”

“Could have fooled me.”

She blushed. “Yes, I know, I should have told you about Reggie earlier. But I wanted to challenge myself that I could still work with you. And yes, I admit there was some deception involved. I felt that if you got to know my brother you would know he could never commit that heinous crime.”

“Understood and forgiven.” Beau reached across and squeezed her shoulder. “There’s something even better that came from our association.”

“And what would that be?”

“I got to know you.”

She didn’t want to go there. Not yet. Not while he was still her patient. The house loomed ahead, thank God. Shayna quickly switched the conversation. Beau told her that Reggie had agreed to start working at Hill Of Dreams twice a week after school, and one day on the weekend. Beau had promised he would be there the first couple of times to put him through the ropes.

Shayna calculated. The trial was in three weeks. By then Reggie and Beau should have cemented their relationship. Would three weeks give enough time for her brother to prove he was a committed teenager? Would Beau have had time to bond with him? Would he feel comfortable enough to share his impressions of Reggie with his father?

Shayna was about to put voice to her fears when she realized they were in front of the house. Managing to keep her voice low, she jutted her chin in Reggie’s direction. “How did you work this miracle?”

“It wasn’t that difficult I told Reggie that he and I are similar. I shared a little of my life before the Andersons adopted me. Like him I was rebellious and could easily have ended up in jail. A few anecdotes hit home.”

The conversation was put on hold when two stable hands came forward and the two men and Reggie helped Beau from Vodka. Shayna gracefully managed dismounting on her own. Beau seemed pleased.

The party had already moved out back, and the fixings for a barbecue were set up on a long table on the patio. Kelly had chosen festive yellows and blues for the settings: blue plates, yellow napkins, and a mixture of yellow and blue cutlery. Potted yellow tulips were strategically placed in corners and on the round table where they would eat Shayna sniffed the spicy aroma of barbecuing beef. She eyed tables filled with mouthwatering salads, breads, corn on the cob, Portobello mushrooms, and chicken, hungrily. There were even cherry tomatoes. She was starving and hadn’t eaten since breakfast. The housekeeper, Towanda, added a heaping platter of small foil-wrapped potatoes to the table and Shayna’s stomach growled. Roasted. Yum, yum.

“Hungry?” Beau asked, wheeling himself up alongside her and giving her another devastating grin.

“Starving,” she admitted.

“Good. While Towanda continues to set up, how about I get you a drink?”

She followed him in the direction of a custom-made mosaic bar in the same attractive blue and yellow as the settings. A fire had been lit in the open fireplace and the smoky smell of spruce scented the air. Red and yellow sparks shot up the chimney, some actually settling on the tiled floor, raining down on Reggie and Kelly, who warmed themselves in front of the fire. The two sat cross-legged, totally engrossed in conversation. Peter hovered on the outskirts, with eyes only for Kelly. Shayna hoped the drink at Reggie’s side held nothing more potent than soda. She wouldn’t put it past her brother to try to get over.

Beau’s mom had arrived while they were gone and was busy inspecting the spread. Upon occasion she made suggestions to Towanda. She greeted her son with a kiss, and warmly embraced Shayna.

“Nice to see you again. Thanks for taking such good care of my Beau.”

“Just doing my job,” Shayna said, avoiding Victoria’s knowing look.

Victoria reached over, tilting Shayna’s chin with her fingers. She stared at her intently. “When are you going to tell him?” she said in a voice only loud enough for Shayna to hear.

“I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

Victoria ignored the question. “You are lovely,” she said. “Exceptionally so, and familiar looking, I might add. I wish I could remember who you remind me of.”

Shayna tried to keep her expression neutral. She wasn’t quite ready for a walk down memory lane. She was still trying to cope with her feelings for Beau. It wasn’t as though she’d done anything extraordinary for him. She’d treated him like any other patient. No, that wasn’t exactly true. She hadn’t kissed other patients the way she’d kissed him. And yes, she’d made him work harder. Oftentimes pushing him beyond his limits. She’d challenged his mind. Challenged him not to accept his non-ambulatory state. The rest was up to him. It was mind over matter.

Shayna blinked hard. “I have one of those average faces.”

“Hardly.” Victoria took her by the arm, walking her away.

“Mom,” Beau cautioned, “don’t get personal.”

“Mind your business, son. This is girl talk.”

“Mom, I mean it.”

She and Shayna faced each other. “Beau’s got deep feelings for you, Shayna. Don’t break his heart,” Victoria began.

Shayna gulped. She’d known Beau was attracted to her. They’d shared that earth-shattering kiss and, no denying it, the chemistry between them felt right. It was electric. But Victoria made it sound as if Beau had serious designs. That spelled trouble. She and Beau had already pushed more than the envelope. They’d crossed the delicate line between patient and therapist, and she’d vowed not to let it happen again. Emotional involvements meant trouble. Her ego had taken such a beating after Michael. She’d loved him with her heart and soul, rotten man that he’d turned out to be. The slime hadn’t the courage to tell her that he’d found someone else. He’d waited until the other woman had given him an ultimatum. Waited until the whole world knew about his infidelity, except she, then shamed her. It would never happen again. She wouldn’t let it. Beau had Chandra waiting in the wings. She wasn’t about to let him hurt her.

Shayna resisted the urge to clap her palms over her ears and shut out Victoria’s urges to go after her son. Her focus needed to remain on Reggie. On his upcoming trial. After that was over with, she’d figure out what to do about Beau, whether to shut down her feelings or give in to them.

“Shayna,” Beau called, “get over here.” He was seated in his wheelchair next to David at the bar. “Peter, you too.”

Victoria chuckled. “Mighty bossy, that son of mine. You’ll have to make sure he knows you’re an equal partner and not some woman he can push around.”

Shayna was only too glad to escape. She joined Alia on a vacant bar stool. Peter explained that as much as he would like to stay he had to go. Beau saw him out.

“How was your ride?” David asked, sliding the bottle of white wine her way.

“Invigorating. We had a wonderful time.”

“That so?”

Beau had returned and Shayna felt his eyes upon her. She hastily filled her glass with chardonnay and took a long sip.

“I’d almost forgotten what it was like to be outdoors on a horse,” Beau admitted. “All that muscle and sinew under me.”

He didn’t seem to want to share more about what he and Reggie had talked about and she was grateful. It would have only embarrassed her brother and made him belligerent and obnoxious.

“Hey, David,” Beau called, “Whatever happened to my ski equipment? The stuff I had when I fell. I’d like to have my boots and skis.”

David shrugged, knocking back his drink in a quick swallow. “Good question. When you took a tumble we were so shocked. Things got crazy. The last thing we thought about was equipment. There were swarms of people: doctors, medical personnel, teammates, fans. Then a helicopter arrived out of nowhere and you were rushed to the hospital. Things are fuzzy after that.”

“You’ll inquire about my boots and skis,” Beau persisted. “I’d like them as a memento. To remind me of the man I used to be.”

“And still are,” Shayna said, gently.

“I’ll see what I can do.” David poured himself another drink. He looked uncomfortable. Shayna wondered what that was about.

“That’s all I ask.”

Alia entered the conversation. “The moment I met you,” she said to Shayna, “I said to David, that woman looks familiar.” Alia knitted her brow as if trying to figure out where she’d seen Shayna before.

Shayna steeled herself for the discovery. Here it came. Inevitably it had to come out. It shouldn’t matter who she once was. Should it?

“You remind me of…” Alia said, her eyes widening.

Victoria interrupted. “My, we’re serious. Solving the world’s problems, are we?”

“Actually I was just saying Shayna reminded me of someone,” Alia said smoothly. “Let me think.”

“You too, huh?”

“I know,” Alia said, snapping a finger. “That cute little gymnast a while back. She had a terrific smile, was known for her work on the parallel bars.”

“Little Shay,” Victoria finished. “That teenager got the most amazing coverage.
Times
and
Newsweek
had her on the cover. She had that Romanian gymnast beat. At least in my eyes she did.”

“In everyone’s eyes she did. Are you Little Shay?” Beau asked, his voice barely audible.

The group grew silent as everyone looked at Shayna expectantly.

Then Reggie’s voice boomed at them from across the room. “She is. Though she hates to admit it. She wants to forget about that part of her life. Don’t you, Shay?”

You could hear a pin drop in the room. Everyone stared at Shayna. Beau’s eyes burned a hole in her face. She was mortified. Wanted to die. For the second time in a short while she’d intentionally deceived him. Would Beau forgive her this time around?

Chapter Sixteen

“Ah, bella, you wear me out,” Franco Santana puffed, rolling off Chandra and reaching for the pack of cigarettes on the nightstand. He lit one and swirls of smoke spiraled upward to form patterns against the ornate gold-leafed ceiling. Taking another long drag, he passed it over to Chandra.

The satin sheets were damp against Chandra’s naked skin. Franco got an A-plus for stamina, she admitted, but definitely not finesse. They’d been going at it for hours and her body ached. She was sore in places she didn’t think it was possible to be sore. Franco’s hands once more circled her breasts, cupping, teasing, and laving the nipples with his tongue.

The man was a sex machine, virtually unstoppable, but not entirely in tune with a woman’s body. She’d become an expert at faking dozens of orgasms. The trick was to get loud, pant out his name, grow breathless, and writhe under him. She was good at it. The best. She’d learned the art of deception.

It hadn’t been like this with Beau. With Beau she hadn’t needed to use her imagination. She’d simply gone with the flow, given in to her feelings. Her orgasms had come in waves, been multiple. No faking needed.