Eve.
He jerked away from her, his eyes full of the shame and guilt he felt. He didn't even have an excuse. He'd lost his head so completely that he could barely form words in his mind, much less voice them.
To his amazement, she reached up with a soft hand and stroked his cheek. Her eyes, far from being shamed or puzzled, were full of understanding.
"It's all right," she said softly, her voice breathless from the kiss. "I understand. You must miss her terribly, today of all days."
His heart caught in his throat. He couldn't speak.
She stepped against him, demurely this time, so that she didn't make things any worse, and slid her arms around him. It was an embrace of comfort and tenderness rather than impassioned need. Fascinated, he felt his own arms enclose her as he fought and controlled his desire.
He hadn't had comfort. Not like this. Eve's parents missed her, of course, but they weren't warm and loving people. They welcomed Drew like an old friend when he came, but not with this sort of uninhibited affection. He'd never had it before.
She nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder with a smile. "Are the Coltrains taking you out to eat?" she asked softly, trying to hide her outrageous reactions to him.
His hand idly smoothed over her hair in its neat bun. He allowed himself for just one minute to wonder how it looked hanging loose down her back. There was so much of it that it must reach her waist...
"Yes, they are," he replied deeply. He sighed, closing his eyes. He was in no hurry to move, none at all. In fact, his arms contracted gently.
She didn't move. She could see the big grandfather clock against the wall from her vantage point. They'd both have to leave soon. But just for a minute or so, this was very nice. She'd had no one to hold her when her father had died. She wished she'd known Drew then.
"Do you have any family?" he asked at her ear.
She shook her head. "I only had Dad."
His hand stilled and then moved again on her hair. "You had no one when he died."
"No." She remembered the loneliness of it very well. "You had her people, at least, didn't you?"
"They don't...touch," he said after a minute. "They're very reserved, all of them, even Eve's younger brother." He smiled ruefully. "I didn't realize how comforting it was, to be held..."
He stopped, as if he was giving away something he didn't want to admit.
"No one held me, when I lost Dad," she said, easing him past the bad moment. She sighed and closed her eyes. "Maybe they're right. Maybe everyone really does need a hug, now and again."
He murmured softly. His own eyes closed.
He drank in the subtle smell of her body, a fragrance like gardenias. She always smelled nice, and she was a neat little thing, except for buttons that never seemed to be done up properly. He was sorry that he'd been so efficient earlier about buttoning those buttons, because he'd have liked to feel her breasts against him closer than this.
The route of his thoughts startled him. He
mustn't let this situation deteriorate. He
couldn't afford to get involved with his receptionist,
He eased her away finally, breath by breath, and coaxed her eyes up to his.
She searched them, quiet and curious, like some contented cat. Her breath was still rag- ged.
He thought about the scent she was wearing and frowned. "Doesn't perfume bother you at all?" he asked suddenly.
"Perfume? Why, no, I don't... Well, I've never actually thought about it. Why?"
"You sound raspy." He left her and went back into his office. He returned a minute later with his stethoscope.
He plopped her down on the edge of her desk and slid his hand inside her blouse to listen to her chest.
Her sharp intake of breath was as loud as the sudden frantic beating of her heart. He smiled as he listened, flattered by her reaction. Then he scowled. He heard the rasp of her breath as she exhaled, along with the telltale wheezing.
'Take a deep breath. Hold it. Now breathe out, as hard as you can. Once more," he instructed.
He lifted his head and removed the stethoscope, scowling. "How long have you been wheezing like this?"
She was still getting her heart calmed down. “Just...just today."
"How long have you been wearing that perfume?"
"It's new," she faltered. "I bought it yesterday. This is the first time... You think it's the perfume?"
"Yes, I do. Don't wear it again. If you're not better in the morning, I'll send you over to your allergist and let him listen to you. Meanwhile, drink more coffee. The caffeine will help."
"I know," she said gently, having learned long ago that it helped attacks.
"You've got my number if you get in trouble during the night?"
She was really touched now. "Yes, sir."
"Use it if you need me." He touched her cheek lightly, his earlier bad temper forgotten in his concern for her. "I have to go," he said then.
She managed a smile and stepped back. "So do I."
He picked up her purse and handed it to her, trying to dismiss the taste of her mouth that still clung to his lips. He liked the taste of her, the feel of her. He was worried about her. He needed a drink, he decided as he stared at her. "I'll lock up," he said. "Go ahead."
She nodded. "Good night, Dr. Morris."
He caught her by the sleeve. "Drew."
She bit her lower lip. "I couldn't. It wouldn't be quite proper."
His annoyance made a frown between his dark eyes. "Was kissing me that way quite proper?" he taunted.
She searched his face. "Probably not, but I wouldn't feel right to work with you on a first-name basis." She lowered her eyes. "Sometimes people do things totally out of character," she added vaguely, "things that they regret the next day."
"Do you think I'll regret this?"
"Yes," she said honestly. Her eyes were clear and very bright. "But you shouldn't. You've had a rough day and the memories must be pretty terrible from time to time. You acted like any other human being who was hurting and needed someone to hold on to, just for a little while. As you said, it was nice to be held and comforted. I enjoyed it, too, but you needn't worry that I'm going to go all soppy and start getting ideas about my place in your life."
He folded his arms across his chest and studied her curiously. "You're blunt."
"I grew up with a soldier. He taught me never to tell lies. Well, I wouldn't tell Nurse Turner that orange lipstick made her look like a dried-up lemon, but that's not exactly lying," she amended.
He chuckled. "Neither would I. She has boxes of needles," he murmured with a conspiratorial smile.
She smiled back, and he thought that he'd never realized until now how much he enjoyed watching her smile. They seemed to have reached a new level of comfort with each other.
"I don't want wild sex or another wife," he replied after a minute, with equal honesty, "but I have to admit, being hugged could be habit-forming."
"You're sure about the wild sex part?" she asked with wide eyes. "Because if you ever change your mind, here I am."
"Have you ever had wild sex with a man?" he teased.
She shrugged. "I've never had sex, period, but I'm long overdue for a feverish initiation. Just so you know," she added with a grin. "But give me plenty of warning, because I just know I'll be a fanatic about prevention."
He burst out laughing, and she blushed.
"Get out of here and go home!" he roared, choking on mirth. "For God's sake, have you no shame? Propositioning your own boss!"
"If you don't want to be propositioned, don't make passes at me," she returned with mock hauteur and twinkling eyes. "Now, I'm going home."
"The Coltrains said I could bring you along."
She wanted to go with him, but she forced herself to shake her head nonchalantly. "Thanks all the same." She hesitated. "Thanks for...being concerned about me, too. I'll deep-six the perfume. And next time I'll be careful what I put on. Good n
ight."
He wondered why she'd refused to go to dinner with him. But he smiled casually and opened the door for her, and then walked her to her car after he'd locked up. He stood there watching her drive away, aware that she was grinding gears like mad. He wondered if he was losing his mind. She was only his receptionist.
Chapter 3
The Coltrains noticed a difference in Drew, and it wasn't because he was grieving. He seemed oddly thoughtful, and when Jeb mentioned Kitty, his hand jumped, as if just the sound of her name startled him.
Jeb and Lou were much too cagey to come right out and ask questions. They kept the conversation on work right through the main course. But over dessert, they probed a little.
"How's your receptionist working out, now that you've had her around for almost a year?"
"She's doing fine," Drew said without looking up from his cheesecake. “At least, as long as she stays away from perfumes with a woodsy tone," he added thoughtfully, and described the asthma that had surfaced with the wearing of her new perfume.
"A lot of our patients don't connect perfume with asthma attacks or severe headaches," Lou mused, smiling. "It isn't something you consciously think about."
"She'll think about it now," he reflected.
"Do she and Nurse Turner get along well?" Lou probed.
He chuckled. "They conspire," he murmured. "Tonight they drew straws to see who got to leave first. Kitty lost the draw." He sighed and shook his head. "I'd been pure hell to get along with all day, but she didn't say a word."
"What did she do?" Jeb asked curiously.
"She put both her hands straight up over her head and I burst out laughing."
"She's a doll," Jeb chuckled. "I remember her as a little girl, trotting along behind her dad when they went to the store together. He had her marching like a proper soldier. I felt sorry for her. He was badly wounded in Vietnam, you know, and had to take a discharge that he didn't want. They offered him a job at the Pentagon, but he was too proud to take it. So he stayed here in town, reliving past glories and making his wife and daughter suffer for his losses."
"He didn't hurt her?" Drew asked before he took time to think what he was saying.
"Not at all," Jeb assured him. "He wasn't a cruel man, but he was domineering and demanding. Kitty never had boyfriends. Nobody got past the old man, even when she graduated from high school and started taking those business courses. He intimidated the young men."
"I'll bet he did," Drew mused, thinking privately that he'd have given the old buzzard a run for his money. He moved his cheesecake around on the plate. "She must have had at least one steady boyfriend," he said probingly.
"Nope," Jeb returned. "No chance of that. The old man went down with a stroke the year she enrolled in business college. She had to nurse him and work to supplement his government pension." He shook his head. "In between, she spent a lot of time in the emergency room with what she thought was coughing fits until they diagnosed her as asthmatic. It took a while to get her medicines set to contain them, too. It's better now, but she has fits when the grasses start blooming."
"I'll keep a close check on her," Drew promised.
"She could use one," Jeb replied grimly.
"Kitty's had no fun at all. That's why I suggested that you might bring her along tonight," he added with a rueful grin. "I wasn't trying to matchmake. She works for you and I like her, that's all."
"I'm sorry," Drew said, and genuinely was, now. "If I'd realized that..."
"We know better than to try to pair you off with anyone," Lou affirmed, smiling. "Least of all, Kitty."
He frowned slightly. "Why do you say that?" he murmured curiously.
"Well, she's not your type, is she?" Lou asked, averting her eyes to the table. "She's unsophisticated and unworldly. She'd rather tend her garden than go to a cocktail party, and she doesn't have a clue how to dress properly."
He wondered for a minute if Lou was making digs at his receptionist, but he realized almost at once that she wasn't. She seemed to genuinely like Kitty.
"She'll never get a boyfriend, the way she looks," Lou continued sadly. "Drew, couldn't you do something, point her to right sort of clothes, get her to a hairdresser? Guy Fenton is still interested in her, but she's just not the sort of girl a man wants to show off. You know what I mean?"
"You mean that she doesn't dress like a young and attractive woman looking for a soul mate," he translated.
"That's exactly what I mean."
"Why don't you take her in hand?" he asked Lou.
"How would I go about it, without making her look stupid?" she asked honestly. "She doesn't really know me."
"She only works for me," Drew replied.
"But she looks up to you. You know, sort of as a father figure." She looked down so that her eyes wouldn't reflect her delight at the way that remark made Drew tauten and look irritated.
"I'm not old enough to be her father," he said shortly.
Coltrain cleared his throat to choke back helpless laughter. "Lou didn't mean it that way. But she does look up to you. What would it hurt to help her change her image? Married receptionists never quit their jobs."
"She can do better than Guy Fenton," he said, remembering vividly how Fenton had already treated her. "As I recall, she dressed up for him, and he ditched her in the middle of a date."
"Her idea of dressing up is a new shirtwaist dress," Lou muttered. "And she never lets that hair down."
Drew tried not to think about all that hair. He had frequent longings to start tearing pins out of it, just to see how it looked when it was loose.
"She needs someone besides Guy Fenton," Jeb remarked coolly. "Guy keeps dark secrets, and he drinks too much. But there are plenty of eligible men in town. Matt Caldwell, for instance."
Matt was rugged and outlandish, but he was also single and well-to-do. Drew didn't like the idea of him. He didn't like the idea of any man, actually. And because he didn't, he agreed to Lou's proposal. He wasn't going to get involved with Kitty. Getting her involved with another man was the ideal way to protect himself.
"Jeb and I are on the orphanage committee here in town," Lou reminded him, "and we're hosting a Summer Charity Ball to raise money to build a new wing onto the orphanage. I'd like you to come. You could bring Kitty—and then I can introduce her to the eligible men."
Drew frowned.
"All you have to do is bring her, Drew," Lou persisted, "not propose to her. You can have her meet you there if you don't want to be seen with her."
"Oh, for God's sake, I don't mind asking her," he grumbled.
"Good," Lou replied, smiling at him. "And if you can get her refurbished in time, there's no telling what might happen."
"Matt likes her—" Jeb put his two cents worth in "—and they've got a lot in common."
"Was he afraid of her father?" Drew asked curiously.
"Not at all," Jeb mused, grinning so that his freckles stood out. "In fact, they came to blows over Operation Desert Storm—Matt's reserve unit was called up during it, you know. He laid the colonel out in the middle of the local McDonald's and poured a milkshake over him. I don't think the colonel ever got over it."
Drew chuckled. "What did Kitty say?"
"Nothing. She didn't dare. But you used to be able to just say the word 'milkshake' to her, and she'd collapse laughing."
Drew found the idea amusing. He'd have to try that one day. He toyed with his fork. "All right, I'll take her to the ball. When is it?"
She told him. "And it's formal. Very formal."
"I'll wear a dinner jacket,” he said reluctantly. "I guess Kitty can come up with a dress."
"Help her find one," Lou suggested. "And you might point her toward the cosmetic counter and a hairstylist and contact lenses. She'd be pretty if she worked at it."
He waited until she came to work the following Monday, and when Nurse Turner went out to lunch, he asked Kitty to come into his office.
"Are you still sweet on Guy Fenton?" he asked bluntly.
She didn't ask why he was probing into her private life. She moved restlessly in the chair. "I used to like him. I still do. But I don't want to go out with him anymore."
"I don't blame you. How about Matt Cald-well, then?"
"Matt doesn't know me from a peanut," she informed him. "He and my father never got along at all."
"Neither do he and I from time to time, but he's coming to the Summer Charity Ball at the country club and I thought you might like to go with me," he added, not looking at her.
She looked at the wall and wondered if she was having delusions. Perhaps that glass of wine she'd consumed with her dinner Saturday night had had a delayed reaction...
"Could you repeat that?" she asked. "I think I may be in the midst of a drunken stupor."
"On what, coffee?" he asked, diverted.
"I had a glass of wine Saturday night," she volunteered.
His mouth curled up. "Did I drive you to drink?" he chided, and then felt guilty when she blushed. "Never mind. I asked you to go to the Summer Charity Ball with me. Lou's hosting it with Jeb, and they're inviting all the single men and women in town, including Matt and Guy." He glanced at his hands. "The Coltrains particularly wanted you to come."
Kitty studied his face uncertainly. He sounded as if he hated the idea of asking her at all, and she knew without being told that it was the Coltrains who'd put him up to this. Funny how disappointing that was, although she couldn't deny that she knew how he still felt about his late wife. She must have been temporarily out of her mind to think that he'd asked her for his own sake; or to allow herself to build one kiss into a future.
Books By Diana Palmer Page 168