the junior version to help them with their English.”
“They won’t mind if we christen it first?”
“Not if we all play,” she said on a burst of inspiration. It was the only thing she could think of to keep him at bay. “You can be on their side. You’ll need the handicap,” she said, adding the dare to spice things up. In reality his English was so good, she probably wouldn’t be able to beat him.
“You’re on,” he said with a speculative gleam in those black eyes.
Before either of them could say anything else, the nurse came in.
Ally’s eyes darted to Des. “I’ll go now, but I’ll be over in the morning to get you.”
“No good-night kiss?”
Her body tautened. “You already got one kiss this evening. Let’s not tempt fate. Next time you might find yourself kissing the Ugly Duckling.”
Des’s face suddenly looked like a thundercloud. That was good.
“Buenas noches, Señor.”
“Rest when you’re sleepy. Eat what appeals to you and you will be fine in a few days, Señor Pastrana.”
Des thanked the doctor as they left the clinic. Per the doctor’s orders, Des let Ally carry his suitcase for him and drive him home. His adrenaline had surged when she’d entered his hospital room at eleven o’clock, dressed in jeans and a bright red pullover.
The hair he longed to run his fingers through had been tied at the nape with a narrow red ribbon. Tiny red-and-green Christmas ornaments dangled from each end. It would be so easy to tug on one of them, allowing the silklike strands to swing loose… .
Her comment about the Ugly Duckling had bothered him all night. He understood the metaphor from the old fairy tale well enough, but there was nothing ugly about Ally, inside or out. He knew that to the depth of his soul. She was a stunning woman who had little conception of her impact on a man. Her lack of awareness was part of what made her so desirable. Her beauty radiated outward to that creamy skin he longed to caress.
But clearly she didn’t think the same about herself. Before the day was out he intended to uncover the secret she’d alluded to, tossing it down like a gauntlet. The list of possible secrets was starting to drive him crazy. It was a challenge, and he’d never passed up a challenge. It wasn’t in his nature.
Yet for some reason Des had the premonition that this would be the most important one he would ever face. The feeling shook him.
After she parked the truck outside his room at the inn, she hurried to the door and unlocked it for him.
Now that the nausea had gone and his forehead wasn’t as sore, he felt surprisingly good and would have enjoyed a short walk in the frigid air with her. But he decided that for once he would follow doctor’s orders. Plus it would get him a lot further with Ally, who still felt some ridiculous residual guilt for having gone climbing with him.
He was the one who felt guilty. If the truth were known, he’d taken one look at her in the dining room and something shocking had happened to him.
For so long he’d avoided women, not wanting any entanglements, but after Miguel had unintentionally laid the groundwork, Des realized he wanted to get to know the beautiful American woman who was so beloved by Maricela and Nuncio. You couldn’t fool children. They saw through to the heart of a person.
He paused at the door of his room. Things had changed since he’d last been in his monk’s cell. A fire blazed in the hearth, and there was a two-foot-high Christmas tree decorated with lights and ornaments placed on the dresser to greet him. The scent of pine was one of those wonderful smells, intoxicating and comforting.
“I hope you don’t mind the additions,” Ally said in a quiet voice as she brought in his suitcase. “It’s too dark in here without any windows and today is Christmas Eve.”
Touched by her generosity of spirit that showed in everything she did, he looked around. On the small wooden table—
one of the original pieces he’d kept—she’d added some snacks and drinks and a few Spanish sports magazines. She’d thought of everything.
She saw where his eyes had wandered. “Those are meant to help with the withdrawal.”
He couldn’t hold off any longer and he reached for her, gripping her arms to bring her close. Her eyes were like warm brandy, but they were conflicted. He could see fear in them, but he also found the emotion he was looking for. Desire.
CHAPTER SEVEN
HOLDING Ally in his arms, Des whispered into her ear, “Happy Christmas Eve day, Allison Bonner. I thought I never wanted to celebrate another one, but you’ve managed to cure me.”
With or without her permission, he covered her heart-shaped mouth with his own and kissed her the way he’d dreamed of doing all night long.
After a brief hesitation, she returned his kiss with a passionate response that thrilled him to his core. He began to draw her over to the bed, needing to hold her closer in his arms. But when she sensed his direction, she tore her lips from his and eased out of his embrace. In the firelight her cheeks were flushed.
“What’s wrong? Why did you pull away from me?”
“The children have been watching for us. They’ll be down any second with their present.”
The Scrabble game. He’d forgotten about it—and everything else.
She’d brought him alive, and he loved this new feeling like he’d never loved anything in his life. But for some reason he sensed that she was still keeping him at a distance.
“Where shall we play?”
“On your king-size bed. That’s where you should be. The priest who lived here should have been so lucky.” The words were barely out of her delectable mouth before there was a knock on the door.
“Allee? Desidiero? Is it all right to come in?”
Des took the initiative and opened the door. “Make yourselves at home, niños. We’ve been waiting for you.”
Nuncio carried the game under his arm. He scrutinized Des. “I thought you were sick, but you don’t look it.”
“That’s because Ally helped me make a magical recovery.”
“Papa said she saved your life.”
“Your papa is right,” he said, staring at Ally.
“Mama’s going to bring you some soup and bread.”
Des smiled and tousled the boy’s head. “I can’t wait.”
“Ooh,” Maricela crooned, walking over to the tree. “I love it.”
Ally busied herself offering the children some candy. “If the three of you have any hope to beat me at this game, you’ll need some sugar for your brains.”
Nuncio
