A Most Desirable M.D.

by Anne Marie Winston

  “You’re late tonight.”

  Her quiet voice startled him. Annoyed at the accusation he perceived, too aware of her soft skin only inches away, he growled, “I’m a doctor. I work as long as there are patients who need my help.”

  He felt the sheets drag across him as she recoiled from his harsh tone. “I only meant—”

  “You knew when you married me I wasn’t a nine-to-five kind of guy.”

  There was a long silence in the bedroom. She didn’t move. Guilt began to creep in around the edges of his irritation. Then she spoke again.

  “I’m sorry.” Her voice quavered. “I was worried that you’d had a bad day, and I thought you might need to talk.”

  Well, hell. He’d misunderstood her words. What was he supposed to say? He heard a sniff and fresh guilt speared him. Was she crying? He took a deep breath, resisting the instinct that called him to pull her into his arms. Letting out a gusty sigh, he said, “I apologize, too. I had a tough day, but that was no reason to take it out on you.” He forced himself to turn onto his side facing away from her. “Good night.”

  “Good night.” She was definitely crying, although he could tell from her careful breathing that she was trying not to let him know it.

  He lay rigid in the darkness as her breathing eventually evened out into the patterns of slumber. It had taken every ounce of willpower he had not to turn and reach across the space that divided them and haul her into his arms. He didn’t know exactly what he’d expected of this marriage when he’d initially thought about it, but he did know he’d never expected to be fighting himself most of the time.

  She was already up and dressed, probably for several hours, when he awoke the next day. Dragging on a pair of sweat shorts, he washed his face and tore a comb through his unruly hair before padding down the stairs and into the kitchen.

  “Good morning.” Allison was seated at the kitchen table. Looking up, she offered him a wary smile. “Would you like me to make you some eggs?”

  Remembering his foul humor of the night before, he couldn’t believe she was even speaking to him, much less smiling. “That would be great.” It wasn’t until he’d poured himself a cup of coffee and rounded the counter that he saw she had her box of family photos out. “What are you doing?”

  “Just sorting through some stuff. I need to put these in albums.” Her head was buried in the refrigerator. “Um, Kane?”

  “Hmm?” He picked up one of the photos and glanced at the date on the back.

  “I started my period yesterday. We’re not going to be parents.”

  Slowly, he set down the photo and turned to face her, but she had her back to him, cracking eggs into the skillet and laying strips of bacon in a frying pan. “Well, that’s good news.” He tried to make his voice hearty. It was good news, wasn’t it? For the best? They needed time to get this marriage thing worked out before they added children to the mix. After last night that should be crystal clear. Still, he knew a mild regret and that in itself surprised him. Had he wanted Allison to be pregnant? The answer to that was too complex to confront first thing in the morning.

  “I can go on the pill now.” She still wasn’t looking at him.

  He was silent for a moment, thinking about it. Logically, that would be the thing to do. And it would free him from the conscious interruption that male protection necessitated during sex. But… “Let me think about it. Don’t do anything yet.” He peered into his coffee cup as if it held answers to questions he didn’t know how to ask. “We’ll talk later about our plans for children, all right?”

  She nodded, and there was an odd stiff silence, broken only by the sizzle and pop of the frying bacon.

  “There’s a message on the table for you. A phone call from last night.” Allison appeared to have dismissed the topic of pregnancy easily; he assumed she was relieved.

  “Who’s it from?” Idly, he reached for the slip of yellow paper.

  “Your father.”

  “What?” He dropped the paper as if it were burning him. “What the hell did that blackmailing bastard want?” He was so agitated he sprang to his feet and paced the length of the kitchen.

  Allison turned, her eyes huge and concerned. “He only wanted to talk to you. He invited you—both of us, actually—to dinner. I think he wants to get to know you.”

  He made a rude suggestion as to what his father could do with his dinner. “No way are we meeting with him,” he said flatly. “God only knows what other schemes he has up his sleeve.”

  “You said you weren’t sure the blackmailing idea was his,” Allison reminded him. “And what could it hurt to meet with him one time? He’s the only father you have.”

  “No.” It wasn’t an option. “I grew up without him just fine. I’ll stay fatherless. That piece of slime will never have a place in my life. If he calls again, hang up. I don’t want you talking to him.” To emphasize that the conversation was ended, he resumed his seat and took a deliberate drink of his coffee. Then he picked up one of the photos lying before him at random, more to distract her than because he was really interested. “This looks like the other picture you showed me of your father. But that’s not your mother. Did he remarry?”

  “Yes. That was the second of his wives.” She slipped his omelet onto a plate and began to fork bacon onto it as he studied the snapshot.

  Kane was startled by the way she phrased it; he lifted his head and stared at her back. “How many wives did he have?”

  “He was on number four when he died.” Allison’s voice was devoid of any inflection. No sarcasm, no humor, no pain, no…nothing. She wasn’t usually so expressionless and that alone was enough to warn him that this was a sensitive topic.

  “Tell me again when your parents split up?” This guy sounded like a real winner.

  “He left us when I was twelve.”

  Us. Not “her,” not “my mother,” but “us.” Something flickered at the back of his mind, but it refused to focus enough for him to get a grip on the thought. After a moment, he said, “So what did you think of the other wives?”

  Allison shrugged. “I never met any of them except for the last one. Dad and I didn’t communicate much after he left. The last wife and I spoke briefly at the funeral. She seemed…decent. She invited me to come by their house sometimes. She wanted me to have anything of his that I wanted.”

  “Why didn’t you meet any of the others? Were you already on your own by the time he remarried?”

  She snorted. “Hardly. He married number two a week after his divorce from Mama was final. We saw the notice in the paper. That lasted about a year, then he ditched her and married number three. That one lasted longer, but about eight years ago, number three bit the dust, too.” She gave him a humorless smile. “Funny, huh?”

  Kane shook his head. “Sad. So when did he meet the last one?”

  “I’m not sure. She gave me the impression they hadn’t been married too long—not years and years, or anything like that. In fact, I assume she was the fourth wife. For all I know, there could have been more in between there. Just because it wasn’t in the paper doesn’t mean anything. I assumed he always lived in San Antonio, but I could be wrong.”

  “And you weren’t in touch with him at all, ever, after he left?” He’d seen firsthand what it was like to be cut off from your family. His mother’s joy when her brother had welcomed her back had been as great as her regret at waiting so long and missing the end of her father’s life. What had Allison thought, what had she felt during all those years? Abandoned. Ignored. Forgotten. Feelings no child should ever have to face.

  He’d faced them and still bore his own scars. Although how much worse had it been for her? His father had never been in his life so he didn’t really know what he was missing; his life had seemed relatively complete. Her father, in contrast, had been there for a dozen years before suddenly vanishing without, as it appeared, a word to his young daughter.

  “No, we weren’t in touch immediately.” She sighed as she
set down his breakfast before him.

  The sound was so full of sorrow and hopelessness that he reached for her hand despite his resolve not to touch her unnecessarily. “Sounds like you would have liked to have been.”

  “Not then, I wouldn’t have.” Her palm turned up and she clasped his fingers as if he’d thrown her a lifeline. “He contacted me several times in the years after he left. I always refused to talk to him. He tried again after I graduated from high school. Said he’d like to get together, to get to know me, to apologize for his actions and try to explain. But I…I refused. I never let him have that chance. I never gave him a single crumb. Not even one little meeting.”

  And yet she’d kept all those crystal cats her father had collected for her. Maybe she hadn’t been able to forgive him, but she’d cared.

  She released her grip on his fingers and clasped her hands together. “I regret being so stubborn now.”

  “Why?”

  She shrugged. “He’s the only father I had. And I have no idea what his motivations were for the choices he made in his life. He genuinely wanted to rebuild his bridges with me, I believe. But I couldn’t get past my anger. And before I did, he died.”

  “How did he die?”

  “Suddenly. He had a massive heart attack one day and that was that.”

  “I’m sorry.” He felt awkward—how was he supposed to respond to that? She wasn’t being very subtle. He knew she was trying to tell him he should cut his own old man some slack. But her situation had been different. Lloyd Carter and he had nothing to talk about. Ever. If the man died tomorrow, he wouldn’t be sorry.

  Kane picked up his fork and began to cut into the fluffy omelet, avoiding her eyes. When he finally glanced at her, though, she didn’t say anything else. The silence grew oppressive and he felt her silent reproach. He’d disappointed her.

  Well, it was none of her business. But…it bothered him that he’d upset her. Allison had always been there to soothe and comfort him. It was unsettling to acknowledge how badly he needed her approval.

  Seven

  He took her shopping later in the day. Allison protested, saying that there was nothing that she needed. But he knew better. He did a minimum of socializing with the Fortune family en masse, but there were occasions when his presence was requested and he wanted her to feel confident.

  As he was heading off McCullough Avenue into the parking lots of the North Star Mall, Allison snapped her fingers. “I forgot to tell you—your mother also called last night. She said it was no big deal, but she sounded strange. You probably should check in with her today.”

  “Maybe we’ll swing by her place when we’re finished here,” he said. “Unless you get into the shopping thing a whole lot more than you seem to be, I predict we’ll be out of here within two hours.”

  He was right. In fact, they never even made it out of the mall’s department store except for a brief excursion to a specialty shoe shop. She bought one evening dress, two suits with skirts, two trim pants suits and a slim, sexy coat dress that he loved, largely because with a flick of a few buttons, he could have her naked. Though he didn’t tell her that. The sales people were only too happy to show her numerous accessories and she chose scarves, pins, necklaces and earrings with swift and tasteful efficiency.

  They drove to his mother’s house afterward, largely just to check on her. Though she was the strongest woman he knew, Kane still worried about the effects of the shattering meeting of a few days before on her spirits.

  Miranda met them at the door and he saw immediately that he’d been worrying for no reason. Her cheeks were pink and her eyes sparkled. And though she still clearly carried around her concerns, he was reassured.

  “Hello, darlings! Can you stay?” She threw open the door.

  He shook his head. “Just for a few minutes. We both have to work today.”

  Miranda made a face. “You two work harder than anyone I know. Medicine’s a very demanding field, isn’t it?”

  Allison nodded. “I do love my work but the long shifts can be grueling.”

  “Just wait ’til you have babies of your own,” Miranda commented. “Being on duty twenty-four hours a day—that’s grueling.” She smiled at her son. “But you’ll have Kane to help you.”

  There was a short awkward silence. Could his mother have picked a worse topic of conversation? “Allison said you called yesterday.”

  Miranda’s smile dimmed immediately. “I did. I have some news about the twins.” She stopped and took a deep breath. “The private investigator is bringing them to San Antonio next weekend. I’ve invited them to stay here.”

  Kane felt the bottom drop out of his stomach. It was one thing to learn about his siblings; it was another entirely to meet them face-to-face. His first impulse was to protest. But I don’t want to! His second impulse was to laugh grimly at himself. Baby.

  “And have you heard from them?” Allison covered his silence quickly and he realized gratefully that, as usual, she was protecting him.

  Miranda shook her head. “Mr. Sinclair should be calling me later today. I’ll let you know as soon as we firm up the dates and we’ll arrange to get together. I know you’ll want to meet them.”

  It was the first time in his memory that his mother had been so completely wrong about what he was thinking.

  “Oh, I almost forgot,” his mother added. “I told your Uncle Ryan about the twins and their upcoming visit.”

  “What did he say?” Again, Kane had the sensation of events spinning out of his control. If his mother was sharing the information with the other Fortunes, it meant that these two people were definitely going to enter his life, like it or not.

  “He was…very supportive.” Miranda’s eyes were moist and she patted the back of the hand Allison laid on her arm. “He won’t mention it to the rest of the family until after we’ve met them. Depending on the outcome of our meeting, there may be no need to mention anything at all.”

  The next week went far too fast, as far as Kane was concerned. On Saturday morning, he rose before the sun and went down to his workout equipment for nearly an hour, then climbed into the shower. Allison was still sleeping.

  She had to work today so he would be on his own with this visit. A part of him wanted to run the opposite direction, to stick his head in the sand and pretend everything was the way it used to be.

  Only it wasn’t. And it would never be again. For him, “the way it used to be” meant his mother, his sister and him. The Three Musketeers. Or the Three Stooges, depending on your point of view, he thought fondly. They’d had some pretty good times, despite the ever-present lack of money.

  He supposed he should be taking the sudden appearance of this brother and sister in stride. After all, what were two more faces compared to the myriad he’d already met? But these weren’t just two more relatives. These were his half siblings. His own mother’s children. He supposed the bottom line was that he was a little jealous. Worried that he’d be replaced in his mother’s affections. Like a stupid kid.

  Why should he be worried? He’d cut the apron strings. He even had a wife of his own now. The thought immediately distracted him from thinking of his mother.

  He scowled into the mirror as he shaved. He’d deliberately worked long hours in the past week, trying to exhaust himself as well as trying to stay as far from his wife as possible. According to his mental timetable, her period should be well over by now, but he hadn’t made love to her again.

  He didn’t need her, he told himself for about the millionth time. Sure, it was nice being married to her, but it wasn’t like he couldn’t live without her.

  If you’re so sure of that, then why are you denying yourself? You want her so bad you can taste it.

  Sheer physical attraction, he reminded himself. Stronger by far than anything he’d ever felt for any other woman, but still, just physical attraction. Nothing he couldn’t control.

  Right.

  He scowled at his reflection again. Who was he kiddin
g?

  As if his imagination had produced her, the bathroom door opened and Allison walked in, her hair a wild cornsilk halo around her head, curls streaming over the straps of her skimpy black gown. “Oh, sorry,” she said. “Good morning. I thought you were downstairs.” She smiled sleepily at him as she reached for a washcloth and scrubbed her face. “I need a shower, but I can wait until you’re done.”

  She turned to leave.

  But the heavy-lidded, sleepy smile had cut the fine thread holding his self-control in check. “Allison.” He caught her hand before she could go.

  She turned, eyebrows raised.

  Using their clasped hands, he tugged her to him in one quick motion. She stumbled smack into him and he immediately snaked his arms around her back, locking her in place. “You can shower with me.” His voice was deep and raspy, even more than the early hour warranted.

  The radiant smile that pleased him so much lit her face, and she lifted her arms to circle his neck. “You’ve got a deal, doctor.”

  The shower water was hot on his back. Allison writhed in his arms, pinned to the cool tile wall by his surging body. He battled his own climax long enough to feel her sweet inner muscles grabbing at him before he lost the fight and poured himself into her, groaning aloud as his seed jetted from him—

  “Oh, hell,” he said. “Guess what we just did?”

  She chuckled. “I don’t think I have to guess.”

  “Very funny. I meant birth control.”

  She lifted her head from where she’d dropped it against his shoulder, and he could see the aftermath of her pleasure glowing in her eyes. “The timing’s wrong. We’re probably safe.” She contracted herself around him, and he sucked in a harsh breath of delight at the sensation. “And it feels so good this way, doesn’t it?”

  “That it does.” He lifted her off him and reached an arm over the shower stall door for two thick bath sheets. “I vote we adjourn to the bedroom.”

  She smiled. “Okay. Or should I say, ‘Yea’?” She preceded him out the bathroom door. But his eye caught the clock as they approached the bed.