Page 78 of The Healer

The pilot mumbled something about the weather in Fenneg, the arrival time, and ordered the attendants to prepare for landing. Eagerness swept through Rhys and thumped his heartbeat. His bear knocked against the confines, as excited to see their…mate.

Striding with his duffel bag, he veered toward the car rentals, then queued as he waited to reach the counter. Minutes later, he climbed into an SUV that catered for his height. He grinned, activated the GPS, and punched in Ilona’s parents’ address. She would be there, of that he had no doubt. If by some reason she wasn’t, he would head to her apartment.

He clipped his phone into the handsfree and dialed. Twenty-two minutes later than planned. She answered on the second ring but didn’t speak. “Ilona?”

A sobbed greeting was all he got.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?” He put his foot down and raced along the highway, staying just this side of legal.

“I found my mom’s photo albums, Rhys. Who keeps those?” She sucked in a shuddering breath. “I was so determined this afternoon, to finish, to be done, then this.” A loud blast followed as she blew her nose. “And now, it made me realize I have all their devices to go through, whether I have to, what about passwords…?”

“I can help. Whatever you need, Lona.”

Her breath caught, and she whimpered. “You’re so sweet to offer.”

“Sweet? Fuck, woman, I want to be there, holding you, helping you, not stuck in Inner City.” He winced. It was the truth a few hours ago, but he wanted to gauge her reaction before he intruded. If he had to kill days in a hotel, he would. His bear thumped against the walls, roaring in frustration.

She sighed. “I’d love a hug, Rhys. I find I need them now more than ever.”

He released the steering wheel to fist pump the air. “Feeling better?”

“A little.” She hiccupped.

“Good. Have you eaten?” He turned onto the street, driving along beautiful houses, each unique, well-kept. The expensive suburb showcased wealth and class.

Her laugh was breathless. “You have no idea. Sashimi for breakfast and apple pie for lunch. Do they count?”

“Sashimi?” He arched a brow at his phone.

She sniffed then chuckled. “I had a weird craving for salmon.”

The GPS intoned, “In one hundred yards, your destination is on the left.”

“Where are you?” Something shifted in the background as if she was finding a more comfortable position.

“I’m sorry I was late to call.” He parked the SUV, unplugged his phone, and climbed out. Taking the paved path alongside a manicured lawn, he admired the wide porch, the huge front door, and the lanterns mounted to the brick wall. “I had to wait until I had service.”

He rang the doorbell—an antique thing hanging to the side and forced himself to stand still when the urge to pace, to ease his nerves threatened to overwhelm him.

She grunted as she rose to her feet, casting her shadow across the curtained front windows. “Hang on, someone’s at the door.”

“Did you order salmon again?” he teased, hoping his nervousness didn’t reach his voice.

“I wish. I could eat—”

She gaped at him, one hand holding the front door open, and the other gripping the phone to her ear. In low-waisted jeans and a tight white T-shirt that bared her toned stomach, she had never looked more beautiful.

“Hi, Lona.” He ended the call and pocketed his phone.

“Rhys.” Her bottom lip trembled, then she threw herself at him.

He caught her but lifted her off her feet to better bury his nose in the curve of her neck. His bear rumbled in contentment. She smelled so good, like a sweet breeze carrying the scents of flowers and pine needles. “I’ve got you.”

She sobbed, trembled, and tightened her hold around him, sliding a hand from his shoulders to his neck.

Filling his arms with her softness, her warmth, he rubbed his chin across her temple. “I hoped surprising you wouldn’t piss you off.”

She shook her head.

---