Not Quite Enough - Page 36/87

Color rose to the cheeks of the woman Trent called Kiki. “We’re too early,” she said.

“No. No.” Trent flashed a sympathetic glance toward Monica and grasped her hand. “It’s fine.”

Monica forced a smile to her face and felt her libido cool as if ice water had been dropped on her from the sky. One of the children, not five, ran up and hugged Trent’s knees. “Uncle Trent.”

Clearly, the family wasn’t related. Yet this child had some affection toward her would-be lover. “Micha. This is my friend Monica.” The boy smiled up at her.

“Monica you remember Reynard from your first day on the island.” Trent continued the introductions.

Oh, now she remembered. “Nice to see you again,” she managed.

“We’ve come too early,” Kiki said again. “We should go.”

Trent tugged Monica’s hand. “No. Please… I told you to come.” Trent turned toward Monica and explained. “Their home was destroyed by the earthquake. I asked Kiki and Reynard to stay here.”

“Oh,” Monica said.

Micha had engaged Ginger in a game of fetch with a plastic bone. The other children were all smiles and completely oblivious to any tension in the room.

Kiki leaned on her husband for another couple of steps. Monica took notice of her pale skin and obvious discomfort and promptly dismissed her own sexual frustration. “Are you OK?”

“Just out of the hospital,” Reynard told them. “The doctor said she needs a bed and rest.”

Monica passed a half smile to Trent. The same frustration inside her swam behind his eyes. “Guest room?” she asked him.

He nodded.

“Come with me.” She walked Reynard and his wife to the room she previously occupied.

So much for their private oasis and alone time. The population in the house quadrupled in minutes and all thoughts of intimacy were now on hold.

Dammit!

Chapter Twelve

Trent helped Reynard unload his family’s possessions from the truck and into the house.

“Are you sure it’s OK we’re here?”

Trent hoisted one strap over his shoulder and picked up another sack. “I won’t hear another word about it, Reynard. Like I told your wife, I’m going to be leaving soon. I have little to worry about here if the house is taken care of while I’m gone.”

The stress behind Reynard’s eyes started to fade. “I will pay you.”

Trent shook his head. “You’ll save your money and rebuild your home.” However, Trent wasn’t sure how possible that would be or how long it would take. The economy on the island had never been great. It would be even worse now.

He turned to walk back into the house. Reynard’s hand grasped his shoulder. “Thank you.”

“I’ll keep my room until I leave,” Trent said as they walked into the house. “And keep you informed about my plans while I’m away.”

“When will you go?”

Trent thought of Monica and shook his head. “I’m not sure. Week or two at most.” He’d told Jack Morrison he’d keep an eye out for his sister-in-law and Trent didn’t go back on his word. He’d be lying to himself if he said he was sticking around only for his promise to a virtual stranger. The fact was, he wasn’t ready to see the last of his nurse.

Not yet anyway.

Back in the house, Monica was in the kitchen again, this time heating up soup from a can. Reynard’s children were sitting up at the counter talking obsessively about living in such a big house and how theirs had fallen down. It was as if their duty in life was to relay a play-by-play of their life to Monica as she cooked their lunch.

“A house this big is going to take your help to keep clean,” she told the kids. “Your mom has to be in bed for a few days.”

Micha puffed out his chest. “We’ll help,” he said.

Monica removed bowls from the cupboard and ladled in the soup. Reynard carried the bags into the second guest room while Trent watched the kids and Monica talk. Tanya, the oldest daughter, was ten and she held the youngest in her lap. “Mother needs to sleep so we need to keep quiet,” Tanya told the kids.

Trent moved behind the brood and offered his advice. “There’s lots of room outside to play. Just keep an eye on each other.”

Monica offered Trent a smile, her eyes lighting up.

In short order, she had the kids eating lunch and worked her way to Kiki’s bedside to make sure she had something to eat as well.

Trent felt guilty for the work Monica was doing on what was supposed to be her afternoon off. Within a half an hour, she was removing clothes from the dryer and folding them into her backpack. It appeared as if she was packing to leave.

He wasn’t sure they’d ever have another opportunity to get away, so instead of staying in his house, which had been overrun with kids and excitement, Trent packed a few bottles of water and an attempt at a picnic into a bag. He grabbed a beach blanket and a couple of towels as he passed his linen closet.

Monica cornered him in the hall. “Maybe you should just take me back to the clinic. I might as well—”

He silenced her with a finger to her lips. “It’s your day off,” he reminded her. “We still have half of it left.” He slid his hand to her shoulder and down to her arm. “How about I show you a quiet place on the beach where tourists don’t play and the waves hardly touched?”

She leaned against the wall and sighed. “Sightseeing?”