Page 7 of Broken Dreams

“No,” she cried as she attempted to yank him upright. But it was too late. His heavier weight dragged her down along with him as they bounced on the bed in a helpless tangle of limbs.

Chapter Three

Once the blinding pain receded, Nick wondered if he'd died and gone to heaven. Not because the pain had lessened to a tolerable level but because of Amber’s warm vanilla scent filling his head and the softness of her body pressing against his chest. She was sprawled on top of him, her light weight a welcome distraction. He prayed she wouldn't move. Her sweet mouth invited him close.

He didn't know what possessed him to lift the necessary inch to taste her. But once he did, he couldn't make himself regret it. She was sweet, her lips soft. When she didn't pull away or slug him, he gathered her close and took advantage of her startled gasp to deepen the kiss.

How long since he'd held a woman? Or even wanted to? Seemed like a lifetime.

Her eager response as she kissed him back sent warning signals beeping in his brain. He abruptly realized he'd started something he didn't dare finish.

Amber wasn't his to date. She belonged to someone else. Before he could talk himself out of it, he broke off the kiss. Dazed, she stared down at him for a long moment. Then she rolled off him to sit on the edge of the bed. She looked stunned, shaken.

What was wrong with him? He shouldn't have taken advantage of her like this. He'd only been thinking of himself. Again.

With a wince, he sat up next to her. As she still hadn't said a word, he felt obligated to apologize. “I'm sorry. I never should have kissed you, especially when you're grieving over losing Shane. I know it's too soon. I didn’t intend to take advantage of your kindness. Just chalk this up to a moment of insanity.”

Her entire body went still. Then he realized his mistake. Stupid, stupid, stupid! The only reason he knew the extent of her feelings toward Shane was because he'd read her letters and emails.

I miss you, Shane. Things aren't the same around here without you. Especially miss our talks. Have I mentioned what a great listener you are? Even now, writing to you like this isn't the same as two of us laughing and talking for hours. Especially the night right before you left.

He'd become envious of the relationship between Amber and Shane. That's how low he'd sunk, battling a burning resentment toward a dead man.

“What do you know about my feelings for Shane?” Her voice held a deceptive softness, but the glitter in her blue eyes betrayed her true feelings.

He swallowed hard. “Ah—I just figured. I mean, Shane told me how romantically involved the two of you were...”

“Nice try, but I don't believe Shane said anything of the sort.” Confusion flickered across her features then her gaze narrowed as realization dawned. “I don't believe it. You read my letters to Shane.”

And here it was. He braced himself for the full force of her anger because he deserved it. “Yes. I didn't mean to, but I did. Read them, I mean. I'm sorry.”

“Of all the lowlife stunts.” Face flaming, she scrambled to her feet and shot across the motel room to the door. “Those notes were personal. You had no right to read them.”

“I know.” Helpless to do anything else, he watched her storm out of his room, slamming the door behind her for good measure.

He wanted to run after her, to make her understand why he'd read them, but he let her go. For one thing, he couldn’t force his aching body to move. And more importantly, she was right. He was very much the lowest form of life on earth. With a heavy sigh, he scrubbed his hands over his face. He couldn't find the words to explain how her letters and notes had changed him. Her positive outlook on life, her self-deprecating humor, and her obvious affection for her family had gotten him through the darkest days of his recovery. Every letter and note had only endeared her to him more. Until he'd yearned to meet her in person.

Now that he had, Amber was even more beautiful than he'd imagined. Their chance meeting in the street outside the Monroe house, had caught him off guard. There was no denying the instant flash of awareness, even though she'd looked far too young. He'd been interested in her in a way he hadn't been for a very long time. The way their brief kiss had spun out of control only proved that point.

Too bad, he was the last man on the face of the earth she would ever be interested in.

Even if she was able to get over her anger and embarrassment of how he'd invaded her privacy, there was no use pursuing a relationship. For one thing, he was still a cripple, but worse, she didn't know the truth. If not for Shane’s attempts to rescue him, the man she deeply cared for would still be alive today.

How dare Nick Tanner read her personal notes to Shane? What right did he have to invade her privacy?

What right did he have to kiss her?

Mortified, she leaned her forehead on the steering wheel and tried to pull herself together. Nick’s kiss had thrown her seriously off balance. Then to find out he'd read her personal notes and letters—she swallowed hard. So what if her letters had taken a friendship tone? They were still personal. She and Shane hadn't even gone on one date, much less anything more serious. If they had been deeply romantically involved, this could have been far worse. A strangled laugh escaped her throat. As if it wasn’t bad enough.

Nick probably thought she was hopeless, the way she'd hinted at wanting something more with Shane. She'd chattered about her life, maybe venting a bit over her interfering, overprotective, yet very loving family. Good grief, no wonder Nick had expected someone older. Boring, bitter old maid.

Enough! No use wallowing in self-pity. With sheer grit and determination, she pulled herself together. She would forget about the impact of Nick’s potent kiss and his blatant disregard for her privacy. Lifting her head, she started the car. Calmer now, she drove home. It was easy to admit that she was more embarrassed than angry to discover Nick knew all those unflattering things about her.

Not until she'd pulled into her parents’ driveway, though, did the question really occur to her.

Why?

Why would Nick Tanner, a trauma surgeon training in Beijing, bother to read notes and letters she'd written to Shane Reinhart?

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