Doctor Daddy

by Jacqueline Diamond

  Tomorrow, he and Jane planned to meet with the hospital administrator. Finding a suitable suite of rooms for the memorial clinic was the first step. They’d require financing and other physicians to donate their time, but he hoped that, by the time Sean returned, it would be well enough established to thrive without Luke.

  He felt a twinge of concern. Perhaps he could stick around Brea longer than he’d initially intended, to make sure the place found firm footing and to see Zoey through to the end of the next school year. But knowing his cousin’s dedication to working with the underprivileged, Luke knew Sean would do a terrific job with the clinic, too.

  Returning his attention to his in-box, he found notes from both his parents, whom he’d informed about Zoey coming to stay with him and about Tina’s arrival. His father wrote that he planned to make the three-hour drive from Santa Barbara to visit them next month.

  As for Luke’s mother, she didn’t mention the children or her other two grandkids, even though his brother Quent’s family lived near her. Instead, she wrote about her latest art exhibit, attaching images of two rather stark paintings.

  Luke recalled Zoey’s hope of seeing Pauline tonight. How often as a child had he fantasized about his mother returning? For both women, marriage and children had proved too heavy a burden. Or simply too much trouble.

  With his replies, he attached a picture he’d shot on Sunday of the two girls playing together. Luke also summoned a couple of words of praise—“original” and “striking”—for his mother’s paintings. They were original, striking and ugly, but he refrained from saying that.

  Then he sprawled on the couch and tuned the TV to an L.A. Lakers game. Since he’d be on duty this weekend, he’d better relax while he could.

  LUKE HAD LIKED Wendy Clark the first time they met, when Sean introduced them, and he liked her even better on Tuesday. The forty-something administrator of the North Orange County Medical Center sparkled with enthusiasm as she showed him and Jane a suite formerly occupied by a drug rehab program that had moved to larger quarters.

  “I’ve been hoping to find a use for it that would serve the community,” Wendy said. “Your idea hit the mark.”

  He gazed appreciatively at the soft green walls. There wasn’t much here, just basics like a built-in front desk, examining rooms and a lab space for collecting specimens, but compared to the clinic in L.A., it seemed luxurious.

  “A lot of small medical centers have failed in Orange County in the past few decades, losing ground to the megahospitals. I’m not going to let that happen here,” Wendy said. “I want to expand our mission and make us stand out.”

  “The Orange County Register runs a lot of human-interest stories.” Luke had noticed how reader-friendly the newspaper was. “I’ll bet they’ll jump right on this.”

  “Is there any furniture or equipment left over from the old birthing facilities that we could use?” Jane put in. “That might give us a start.”

  “Great idea.” Wendy made a note. “We stored some things in a warehouse until we could figure out where to donate them. Now we can use them ourselves. I love it!”

  The three of them continued discussing the issues: how the hospital community-relations department might network with doctors’ groups to secure volunteers. How a staff grant writer could apply for government funding. How they might use publicity to inspire local donors.

  “I’ll talk to service groups,” Wendy agreed. “Put on your thinking caps these next few weeks, and among us maybe we’ll come up with the names of some angels.”

  “Will do,” Luke assured her.

  When Wendy’s cell rang, she excused herself to deal with a staffing issue. Gazing around, Luke felt a lump form in his throat. “Annie would love this.”

  “I wish I’d met her,” Jane said thoughtfully.

  “I just hope her confidence in me wasn’t misplaced,” Luke admitted.

  “What do you mean?”

  Last night, when he’d finally had a few spare moments to think, he’d begun considering the long term. “She assumed I’d be able to raise Tina by myself, but as I told you, I’ve always believed two parents are best.”

  “I didn’t have two parents, not in the true emotional sense,” Jane pointed out. “Neither did you. We turned out fine.”

  “Did we?” he asked.

  “You don’t think so?” She studied him challengingly.

  “I’m divorced. You’re considering having a child alone. Maybe if we’d had a better parenting model…”

  “Spoken like an academic!” Jane returned.

  “Okay, better moms and dads.”

  “Then what?” She leaned against the front counter. “We’d have married Mr. and Ms. Wonderful and each produced two-point-five children with perfect teeth?”

  He laughed. “Or simply found happiness.”

  “Why do you assume this isn’t happiness?”

  Just as in med school, she had a way of turning a subject around and forcing him to examine it from a fresh angle.

  “We have it pretty good,” she continued.

  “Half the time I’m running on empty,” Luke countered.

  “There’s a line from a song that goes, ‘These are the good old days,’” Jane reflected. “You’ve got a house full of love. And I have…” She hesitated for a fraction of a second. “Stopgap.” Her quick smile took the edge off the remark.

  Luke caught her hands. “You have a lot more than that.”

  “Name three things.”

  He had no trouble coming up with an answer. “Two little girls next door and their pushy father.”

  “Who likes to hold hands in empty office suites,” she murmured.

  He’d like to hold much more than that. But as usual, his timing, not to mention his location, was completely off. Wendy Clark stuck her head in the door, and he stepped away quickly.

  She’d just heard from a service club looking for a new project in Brea. “I told them they were sent from heaven,” she announced happily.

  Luke took that as a good omen. The clinic, which he already thought of informally as Annie’s place, was off to a promising start.

  JANE COULDN’T BELIEVE how many men asked her to dance.

  On Friday, after a delicious dinner, she, Brooke and Renée had moved from the Anaheim restaurant’s main area to the bar, which featured a deejay and a dance floor.

  Renée attracted the usual flurry of attention. Brooke, always a charmer, waved away invitations, confiding to Jane that as she was still nursing her breasts felt uncomfortably heavy. Besides, she didn’t feel right dancing with someone while Oliver stayed home with Marlene.

  As for Jane, she’d have been satisfied with an invitation from a sedate older fellow. To her astonishment, a sharp young guy with multiple piercings put in his bid first.

  “You’re hot,” he told her as they gyrated within hip-bumping range.

  “You, too.”

  That marked the extent of their conversation, since no sooner had the music segued to another song than a second man cut in. More in Jane’s age range, he sported a tight shirt, trendy jeans and a medley of tattoos.

  “Sexy,” he told her.

  “You, too.” She tried to look as if she meant it.

  “No, you most.” He grinned, revealing a gap in his teeth.

  She’d barely finished the dance and sat down with Brooke when a third man, suave and graying at the temples, requested her company. Off they went, squeezing onto the packed floor. He shouted his name at her, but over the loud music Jane couldn’t tell whether it was Harry, Larry or Cary.

  Probably a made-up name anyway. He kept his left hand out of sight, perhaps hiding either a wedding ring or the telltale white strip where one belonged.

  Why were these guys so intent on flirting with her? Curious, Jane glanced at her reflection in the mirror behind the bar.

  Shimmering lights caught the blond strands Renée had woven into her hair that afternoon. Her makeup sparkled, too, and the cosmetician had pl
ucked and shaded and shaped until Jane hardly recognized that sophisticated face as her own.

  She whirled away, feeling the silky teal dress skim her figure. Sherry hadn’t been able to attend tonight because she was babysitting Luke’s girls, but she’d gone shopping with Jane and selected this flattering outfit as her gift.

  Sherry had also insisted on new lingerie, including a bustline-boosting bra. “If you’ve got it, flaunt it, girlfriend,” she’d observed with a grin.

  Another whirl, and Jane checked the mirror again. Was that actual cleavage peeking from the deep vee of her neckline? Goodness. She’d never considered herself a slouch in the looks department, but she’d needed a makeover more than she’d realized.

  The music stopped. “Gonna take a short break,” the deejay announced. “I’ll be back in five, folks.”

  “Why don’t we go somewhere more private?” said Harry, Larry or Cary. Or possibly he’d said Terry.

  “I’m with friends,” Jane told him.

  “They’ll understand.”

  The overhead lights brightened enough for her to see Brooke waving madly from across the room. “Afraid not.” She might be blowing off the man of her dreams, Jane mused with a final glance at his silvering hair and bedroom eyes. But she doubted it. “Thanks, anyway.”

  “Your loss.” With a shrug, he strolled off.

  As she neared the table, she realized Brooke wasn’t simply waving. She was holding up a cell phone.

  “You’ve got a call.” Her friend must have plucked it from Jane’s purse, which sat open beside her. “From Luke.”

  Why would he be phoning? Jane pressed it to her ear, trying to block the buzz of voices in the room. “What’s up?”

  His deep voice came through clearly. “Sorry to disturb your birthday, but I’ve got two women being prepped for C-sections. I’m on my way into surgery—one’s twins and they’re early. The other patient’s yours. She’s in a lot of pain and I wondered if you could come in.”

  “Of course.” Thank goodness she’d only had a small glass of wine with dinner, and that had been hours ago.

  “Emergency?” Brooke inquired when Jane snapped her phone shut.

  She explained the situation. “Can you do surgery in that dress?” Renée asked.

  “I’ll change at the hospital,” Jane assured her.

  “Put the dress on afterward,” her friend advised. “Luke ought to see it.”

  She did look smokin’ tonight, didn’t she? Jane thought in amusement. Three men had told her so.

  The wrong three men. Anyway, she had more important matters to deal with. A mother-to-be was counting on her.

  DESPITE BEING BORN nearly a month early, the two little girls emitted lusty cries as soon as their lungs cleared. As he closed the mother’s incision, Luke was pleased to hear that the twins weighed more than five pounds each.

  “They can stay in the neonatal unit right here,” one of the pediatricians told the parents. “No reason to transport them to Children’s Hospital.”

  In the birthing suite, the nurses beamed with relief. Luke extended his congratulations to the new father, who thanked him distractedly. With a pair of infants and a convalescing wife to care for, the man had a lot on his plate.

  Luke completed his stitching and exchanged a few reassuring words with the mother. She seemed happy, although tired and woozy from the anesthetic.

  After cleaning up, he asked a nurse about Jane’s surgery. “She delivered a little boy about ten minutes ago,” the woman said.

  “Is she still in the hospital?”

  “I think she’s changing.”

  “Thanks.” It was nearly midnight. Too late to pick up the kids, who were sleeping at Sherry’s house.

  He called Jane and asked her to meet him in the doctors’ lounge. He wanted to escort her to her car, and to apologize again for spoiling her birthday outing. Earlier, when he’d glimpsed her in green scrubs with a cap over her hair, her face had been flushed. Probably from dancing with her friends. Must have been a fun evening.

  The lounge door opened and in stepped a stunning blonde in a blue-green dress that emphasized a curvaceous figure. As he was trying to figure out what to say, she regarded him with skeptical amusement. “Luke Van Dam, don’t you recognize me?”

  “Good Lord.” Could that be Jane? “You look even more beautiful than usual.”

  “Quick recovery,” she teased.

  “The only thing I have to recover from is being dazzled,” Luke shot back. “You did something fantastic with your hair.”

  “For the record, that wasn’t my hair you were staring at,” Jane returned. “Honestly, Luke, are you telling me that at this point in your career, you still don’t know anatomy?”

  He gave her a lazy smile, trying to disguise the eagerness radiating through his body. He knew his anatomy, all right. But he didn’t know hers nearly well enough.

  Her self-assured air wavered as she glanced down at her dress. “Do you think I’m overdoing it? Sherry swore it wasn’t too revealing, but the way the men were staring at me…”

  “Which men?”

  “All of them.”

  He didn’t like the sound of that. “I thought you were dancing with your friends.”

  “I was sitting with my friends. I was dancing with men,” she corrected. “Luke, are you jealous?”

  “Yes,” he said.

  “Really?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be?” he responded. “You’re a knockout. And I feel protective of you. How dare those mashers ogle you?”

  “I don’t need protecting,” she said.

  “Every man wants to be a superhero to his woman,” Luke told her.

  “His woman?” she queried.

  “It’s late. And I’m feeling gallant.” Then he remembered the small treat he’d bought for them to share. “If you aren’t in a hurry, we could swing by the office and pick up the champagne I left there by mistake.”

  “Champagne?” she echoed.

  “A thirty-fifth birthday calls for a toast,” Luke said. “And I want to be the one to clink glasses with you.”

  “Sounds like a plan.”

  They rode the elevator to a lobby deserted at this hour. So there was no one to notice when Luke’s arm slipped around Jane’s waist.

  His good friend had been transformed into a sizzling temptress. Tonight, if he had his way, he’d like to tempt her right back.

  Chapter Eleven

  In the medical suite, shadows sculpted the corridors and the counters loomed like outcroppings in some lunar landscape. Jane realized she had never before visited the place at night.

  Luke’s hand on her back guided her along the hall. “Seems a waste,” he murmured, his breath tickling her ear.

  “What does?” Her voice echoed.

  “All this space and nobody using it half the time.”

  “Think we should sublet it?” she asked. “Although I can’t imagine who’d work here after dark.”

  “Vampire doctors?”

  “I’m not letting them anywhere near my A-positive blood.”

  He paused in the corridor, his thumb tracing the pulse of her throat. Heat radiated through Jane. “I didn’t mention my other identity?” Luke teased.

  She leaned into his warmth. “Don’t forget, I’ve seen you in sunlight.”

  “And I’ve seen you in moonlight,” he murmured in response. “You’re bewitching.”

  His voice quivered into her heart. Bewitched. That was exactly how she felt.

  “My office,” he murmured.

  “What?”

  “That’s where I left the champagne.”

  “I don’t think we need champagne.” Not with excitement effervescing through her veins.

  “It’s private.” In the faint gleam of a security light, his eyes became fathomless pools.

  Jane laughed.

  “What?”

  “Like this whole place isn’t private?” She shook her head. “Okay, let’s go get the champagne.”r />
  “I may have some disposable glasses, too,” he said as they ventured farther into the darkness.

  “Let’s just inject it directly into our bloodstream.”

  “Is that legal?”

  “Who cares?” she tossed back.

  In his office, a soft glow seeped through the tilted blinds from the streetlights. Luke shut the door.

  Close to him now, Jane heard his rapid breathing. Her own heart was beating so hard she imagined he could surely feel the vibrations.

  A tiny voice inside tried to impose some restraint. Did she really want to do this? Oh, hell, yes.

  Luke brushed back her hair, his gaze scorching across her face. Then he explored her lips with his until fire blossomed within her and they gripped each other with pure liquid longing.

  Jane eased open Luke’s jacket and ran her palm across the T-shirt beneath. A groan ripped from him.

  She could hardly believe she was really here, caressing and arousing him. At the same time, she couldn’t imagine why she’d ever given this up.

  Her body ached for him, but he took his time stroking her, bringing her nipples to hard points through the silky fabric and kissing her again, deeply. Jane gripped him, thrilled by the power rippling in his muscles.

  When Luke eased behind her and lowered her zipper, she felt a moment of self-consciousness. She forgot it as he lifted the curls from her nape, and the flick of his tongue on her spine sent hunger spiraling through her.

  He swung her carefully around and fingered the dainty lingerie. Lifting the bra to expose her breasts, he knelt and touched them with his tongue.

  Jane couldn’t bear to wait another moment. Fiercely, she tugged at his clothes until his T-shirt and slacks found their way to the floor along with her lacy panties. “I want this,” he whispered. “I’ve been wanting this forever.”

  “I want it now,” Jane answered.

  “That works for me,” he teased, his voice thick with desire.

  Luke retrieved a condom—in plentiful supply on these premises—and then they were on the couch, nuzzling and seeking. When his hardness slid inside her, Jane thought she might soar right through the roof. Thank heaven for his anchoring weight and the ferocity of his thrusts.