She remembered the way she’d try and fight back, give her opinions, and how he’d crumble in front of her, an emotional wreck. David struggled with receiving love. His parents divorced early in his childhood, and his mother was an absentee, not seeming to care about her only son. He’d devoted himself to the medical field, to achievement, to prove his worth. And he had. But Gen saw the cold glimmer of intent in his eyes, as if he only wanted to cut out his past with a surgeon’s scalpel. When she disappointed him, he reverted. At first she was amazed at his willingness to share his past. His openness regarding his limitations and weaknesses. He told her over and over she was the one to save him.
She’d tried. Hadn’t she?
But she wasn’t strong enough. The constant back and forth between cold disdain, teacherlike discipline, and loving, needy partner began to destroy her. So many times she’d chosen to forgive the way he hurt her because he loved her. But what was real love anyway?
She didn’t know anymore.
Darkness began stealing her peace inch by inch. She blinked back useless tears, caught between the misery of the past and her guilt over trying to save herself. The lives she had ruined by being selfish enough to run away. Coward. Coward . . .
“Sweetheart? Are you ready?”
She shook her head and tried to focus. Wolfe knelt beside the table with a battered maroon box in front of him. “What?”
“Scrabble. Here, help me set it up.” He handed her the bag of letters and she automatically began laying out the wooden tile holders.
“Wolfe, I’m tired. Maybe I should just go to bed.” Exhaustion overtook her mind and body. The idea of having to think of words was overwhelming. She waited for him to agree, patting her gently on the head and allowing her to escape.
“Tough. I’m bored and you’re playing. Don’t forget the rules. You can’t use all medical terms or it’s not fair.”
She bristled, shaking the bag of letters. “You’re so mean and selfish. I’m tired and you’re making me play.”
“It’ll be good for you.” He left to refill her wineglass and returned with a notepad and pen. “What are we playing for?”
She let out a breath. “Geez, I don’t know. I’m a resident and you’re a millionaire. How about money?”
“You’re such a smart-ass. We’ll play for secrets.”
She froze. Studied his face. He seemed serious, intent on fishing out his first letter from the bag. “What type of secrets?”
Wolfe shrugged. “If you win, you get to ask me anything and I’ll tell you. Vice versa. Deal?”
She had nothing to lose. Her spirits spiked and she picked the letter S. Nice. He got an A. Sucker. “You go first.”
Gen forgot how much fun Scrabble was. She used to play tournaments with her family, yelling, challenging each other at every turn. The dictionary was a well-worn friend. The simple complexity calmed and focused her mind, and suddenly she found herself locked in a stiff competition with one of the smartest men she knew. Best of all, he never showed it. Someone looking at him would never know from his casual dress and rough speech how highly intelligent and educated he was. But on the Scrabble board he was frickin’ deadly.
She was ahead a good twenty points and still held a magic Z. It was her game to lose, and she didn’t intend to do it. Her turn. The open square sung to her in a symphony. Ah, the beauty of having an S.
Zips.
He whistled. “Nice job.”
She preened. A surge of adrenaline made her jump a bit on the couch. “Triple word score!” She grabbed the letters for replacement and turned the bag over. “No more letters!”
She was so gonna win.
He chewed on the edge of the pencil, gaze focused on the board. “Hmm, space is getting tight. This is going to be tough.” She drank her wine, waiting happily for the little word she expected, and swore she wouldn’t be a bad winner. Well, at least she’d try. All he had to work with was an open A, and it wouldn’t give him much.
“Got it.” He began laying letters down one by one across the board.
Anestrus.
Huh? Gen leaned over and tried to focus. Wait, had he gotten rid of all his letters? She blinked in astonishment at the empty tile holder. He just scored an extra fifty points for the bonus.
“Hold off. What the heck is anestrus? That’s not a word. And how did you manage to keep two S’s hidden from me?”
He shrugged as if it meant nothing. “Don’t know. Wanted to save them for a good one. You don’t know what that means? It’s a word.”
“I challenge!”
He cocked his head. “You’re a doctor and know biology. You’re telling me you never heard of it?”
“Of course I haven’t, because it’s not a word. What does it mean, smarty pants?”
“Anestrus is the period of sexual inactivity in mammals.”
She blinked. “You’re kidding me, dude.”
“Nope. Look it up. You challenge and lose, it’s my game.”
“Fine. I still challenge.” She grumbled in irritation as she flipped through the dictionary and came across . . . anestrus. The period of sexual inactivity in mammals.
Bastard.
She shut the book with a snap. His delighted grin stole all her thunder. “Believe me now, Doc?”
Oh, she so wanted to scream “Cheater,” but she couldn’t. He was just smarter than her right now, and it burned her bad. Another trait she had gained from her sister. A penchant to win all board games.
She studied him, relaxed, a tiny grin still on his face while he cleaned up the board and allowed her to pout. He’d changed into running shorts and a tank top that showed off his carved arms and cut shoulders. His skin was a lovely golden brown from the sun. Funny, any woman would be going nuts right now to be alone with him, in front of a roaring fire, in a deserted cabin. He was a walking, talking sex god, and here she was, playing Scrabble in her Walmart clothes, with no makeup and crazy hair.