A wife for the baby doctor

by Josie Metcalfe

  If this hadn’t been Josh, it would have seemed very much like a date, but, then, if it hadn’t been Josh, she wouldn’t have accepted the invitation, because ever since she’d realised just how deep her feelings were for him, no other man had been able to measure up.

  And if he never returned her feelings? What then?

  Would she have to resign herself to a life dedicated to her profession or would she be able to school herself to settle for second best so that she could know the joys of motherhood and a family of her own?

  She desperately needed to talk to someone, but who? There had only really ever been two people in her life to whom she could pour out her heart, Josh and Meredith, and they were the only two she couldn’t turn to now.

  She sighed at the tangled emotions inside her, even as she tingled with awareness at the proximity of the man at her side and mourned the fact that he would be for ever out of reach.

  ‘That was a heavy sigh,’ Josh commented, jerking her out of her introspection.

  Everything inside her clenched when she saw the intent expression in those golden eyes. She could imagine that it was the same look in a lion’s eyes when it had a gazelle in its sight—unwavering concentration while it tried to predict which way its next meal would jump.

  For just a second she was sorely tempted to tell him what she was thinking. It would be such a relief to pour it all out to the person who had listened, endlessly patient, while she’d prattled on as a child.

  But she could just imagine the expression on his face if she told him that every time she saw him, every nerve in her body quivered with the elemental awareness of a female for her chosen mate, and all she could think as he was speaking was that she wanted to feel those lips on hers.

  ‘You’re overtired,’ he diagnosed with a fierce frown when she was unable to come up with a single word, an alternative topic of conversation completely eluding her. ‘You need to get some sleep or you’ll be useless to me tomorrow. Let’s get you to bed.’

  To bed?

  The pictures in her head were X-rated and any chance she’d had of getting her thoughts into some logical order went right out of the window.

  Honestly, she was as obsessed as any hormone-ravaged teenager over the latest pop singer or film idol, and it was utterly ridiculous in someone of twenty-seven. If she wasn’t going to go completely round the bend she needed to get a life, and preferably one that didn’t revolve around Joshua Weatherby.

  It was a good job that the walk back to the staff block wasn’t very long because even the work-related conversation of the outward journey seemed beyond her. All she could think, as she glanced in his direction, was that the evening light was casting his features almost as a silhouette against the sky, and that, as ever, he was adjusting the length of his stride so that she didn’t have to run to keep up with him.

  She was sorely tempted to walk just that little bit closer so that their arms would brush but lost her nerve at the last moment, afraid that his reaction to something so blatant would spoil the memory of the first real time they’d spent together in years.

  Finally, they reached the driveway leading to the staff residence and the end of their interlude together. She already had her keys in her hand and in just a few seconds he would be leaving her to go back into the continuing noise of the party, alone.

  Josh had been determined to deliver Dani safely to her front door in spite of the fact that the whole evening must rate as one of the most excruciating of his life.

  No matter how hard he’d tried to concentrate on their surroundings and the taste of the food, all he’d been aware of had been the beautiful woman beside him—the scent of her skin, the soft timbre of her voice, the moonbeam paleness of her silky hair, the brush of her arm against his.

  And it didn’t matter how often he reminded himself that this was his little sister, his body wasn’t listening. It had been the same story ever since he’d come out of his office on that first morning and seen her standing at the reception desk. It hardly mattered that he’d been spending extra hours on the unit, keeping an eye on the state of their most volatile patients, because every time he closed his eyes his subconscious was filled with images, and every one of them was of Dani.

  He’d tried to concentrate on the memories of the scrawny little scrap she’d been for those first few months, but his dreams were far more interested in the images of the vivacious, laughing teenager she’d grown into. But it was the newest incarnation that was causing him the most problems, that of the mature, ripe woman who could arouse him with nothing more than the scent of her skin as she walked past him in the corridor.

  And yet, knowing this, he’d still invited her to spend time with him while they shared a meal.

  He must be mad.

  With a heavy sigh of his own, he resigned himself to the prospect of yet another long, cold shower when he returned to his flat.

  Finally, Dani stepped up to unlock the door and he felt he could relax his vigilant hold on himself just a little. The evening was almost over. In another couple of seconds she would step inside the door and shut it between them and temptation would be out of reach for a few more hours.

  The incessant thump of the music had been moderated slightly in their absence, although it had now been joined by the sounds of rather drunken revelry. He still wasn’t completely happy about her living here, but at least he now knew that her room had a sturdy lock on the door, so she should be safe.

  ‘By the way, Mum asked me to deliver this,’ she said, turning back towards him so that the light streamed over her face, making her look even more like a perfect porcelain doll than usual.

  He was so busy trying not to look at her that he hardly realised what she was doing until she’d wrapped both arms around him, her surprisingly curvaceous little body pressed against his from shoulder to thigh as she hugged him tightly.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ALL the way back to his flat he was kicking himself for overreacting.

  If he’d only kept still and quiet, the contact would have been over in another second or two and she would never have known that his body had responded so strongly.

  Well, that wasn’t strictly true. His body had reacted to her from the moment he’d had the crazy idea of inviting her out for the meal and he’d been on edge the whole time they’d been together.

  It hadn’t been so bad while they had been sitting side by side or walking together, but when she’d suddenly plastered herself against him like that, he’d automatically wrapped both arms around her, pulling her closer, and there had been no way she could miss the fact that his body wanted far more than a hug from her.

  He groaned out loud, prompting a pimply youth with more than his fair share of facial piercings to snarl belligerently, ‘What’s your problem, mate?’

  Josh almost laughed aloud as he imagined the youngster’s reaction if he actually told him about the last nine years’ torment.

  ‘Work,’ he said succinctly, eliciting a blasé snort.

  ‘Tried it once, didn’t like it,’ he said with a shrug as he sauntered off. ‘Got in the way of me social life.’

  ‘A social life that my taxes are funding,’ Josh muttered under his breath, but he was grateful for the fact that the encounter had at least put a stop to his spiralling thoughts.

  Now all he had to do was work out what he would say to Dani when he saw her in the morning.

  But that was tomorrow. Tonight, he was going to have to try to make contact with his mother and her new husband, if he could work out what the time difference was between them. The last thing he wanted to do was ring when the two of them were in bed.

  He pulled a face at the image and wondered how many children felt uncomfortable at the thought of their parents sharing a bed and all the activities that could take place there.

  And just that swiftly his head was filled with far more enticing images of Dani in bed…in his bed…with her moonbeam-pale hair spread out across his coffee-coloured sheets and her perf
ectly proportioned little body sprawled in satisfied abandon beside him while they tried to catch their breath.

  ‘Never going to happen,’ he reminded himself sternly as he shut the door behind him.

  The trouble was, if it wasn’t going to happen with Dani, it was beginning to look as if it wasn’t going to happen with anyone.

  He’d actually got as far as looking at engagement rings with one girlfriend before he’d caught sight of her reflection in the shop window and realised just how much she looked like his little sister. Thank goodness he’d realised in time, because the fact that he must have chosen her purely because his subconscious had picked up on that resemblance could only have spelled disaster for the long-term prospects of the relationship.

  But how could he rid himself of something that must surely be bordering on obsession?

  The honest answer was that he couldn’t, not with his mother still expecting him to keep an eye on Dani.

  It might have been different if one or other of them had moved to the other side of the world. Perhaps her image would have had a chance to fade. As it was, he usually spoke to Meredith at least once a week and she was bound to bring up the name of the person who was her daughter in all but blood.

  Had he heard from Dani? It was always the first question his mother asked, and for nine years he’d mostly been able to duck any further conversation on that topic with a negative. Now that he and Dani were working in the same department, that was going to be impossible. And his mother was far too intelligent a person not to realise that something was wrong if he stumbled and stammered over what the two of them had been doing together. She would certainly have a few pointed questions if he were to admit that he was actually avoiding being in the same room.

  Jake sighed heavily, easily able to imagine the horrified expression on her face if he were to tell her that she was unlikely to get the grandchildren she wanted unless Dani were to produce them.

  Then he had to grit his teeth against the murderous rage that surged through him at the thought of someone daring to touch his Dani. Everything inside him railed against the idea that she might carry anyone’s baby but his, no matter how impossible that was.

  Yes, he knew as well as anyone that there was no blood connection between them, and that there was no legal or logical reason why they couldn’t marry and have a family, but…

  ‘Apart from anything else, she’s far too young for you…or, rather, you’re too old for her,’ he growled into the emptiness of his smart bachelor bedroom after a phone call to the other side of the world that had gone exactly as he’d predicted.

  ‘So, deal with it and get on with your life,’ he instructed himself firmly as he slid into bed, relishing the feel of crisp, smooth sheets against his freshly showered body. ‘You’ll have hundreds…maybe thousands of babies to take care of during your life, so stop whining about the ones that can never be.’

  But speaking sternly to himself didn’t mean that he could switch off his dreams and he woke up the next morning with a head full of images that were every bit as explicit as the ones from the night before…and the one before that.

  ‘Pervert!’ he muttered to himself as he strode out into the entrance hall of the flats, and the mousy little man who lived on the next floor up dropped his bulky pile of mail and went bright red.

  And, of course, Dani was the first person he saw when he keyed open the security door to the unit.

  ‘Good morning, Mr Weatherby,’ she called cheerily. ‘Did you sleep well?’ He could swear that there was a deliberate twinkle in those apparently innocent blue eyes.

  ‘Very well, thank you,’ he lied, and after a single all-encompassing glance that took in her form-fitting red-and-white-striped top and her softly draped black trousers he found himself scurrying for his office in need of another cold shower.

  ‘Run, rabbit, run,’ Dani murmured with a chuckle as she saw him disappear through the door. But he wasn’t going to be able to run very far, neither could he run fast enough, not since her hug last night had shown her the proof that he was physically attracted to her.

  ‘OK, so most men are hard-wired to respond to anything that’s female and has a pulse,’ she continued softly as she poured boiling water into the teapot and waited impatiently for the tea to infuse to exactly the right colour. But it wasn’t just a case of a little sister idolising her big brother that was telling her that Josh wasn’t the sort to allow himself to respond to every woman.

  In his teens and twenties he’d been so focused on qualifying for his chosen career that he’d done very little dating at all, and that could only have been through choice. The reaction of her female colleagues was enough to tell her that his present apparent celibacy wasn’t through lack of interested women. He was good-looking, intelligent, hard-working, heterosexual and…well, he ticked just about every box for any woman looking for the ideal mate.

  He certainly ticked all her boxes in a way that no other man had managed.

  ‘So, today is the day,’ she whispered as she picked up two steaming mugs and set off down the corridor. ‘No more avoidance, no more sticking my head in the sand and just wishing. From this moment on, I’m going to do everything I can to find out if there’s any chance that he feels the same way that I do.’

  And if there wasn’t…

  No! She wasn’t even going to think of that possibility, not after that hug had revealed his body’s undeniable physiological response to her proximity.

  Physiological response. She grinned that such a dry scientific phrase could be used to describe something that had turned her knees to water and sent her pulse and blood pressure rocketing.

  That hadn’t been some random randy stranger pressed against her in a crowded train: that had been Josh’s body signalling that it was ready, willing and able to mate with her…prepared to plant his seed deep inside her to start the next generation of Weatherbys.

  And just thinking about the process of planting that seed was enough to have every hormone clamouring and her hands shaking enough to risk slopping the tea over the top of the mugs.

  ‘Tea,’ she announced brightly when she pushed open the door at his invitation. ‘A dash of milk but no sugar,’ she added, hoping that he wouldn’t notice that there was a definite tremor to her voice. Well, it could hardly help shaking when her heart was beating hard enough to fill the room with rhythmic sound.

  ‘To what do I owe this service?’ he asked warily, and she nearly chuckled aloud.

  ‘Oh, just look on it as a small thank you for a lovely meal last night,’ she said with a happy smile, then deliberately slid her arm along his as she leant forward to deposit the tea in the space he’d hastily cleared for it.

  She actually felt him flinch at the contact and for just a second found herself doubting her memories of the previous evening. Surely he didn’t find her touch repellent? Then she heard him swallow hard and when she saw the way his nostrils flared slightly, as if he was deliberately breathing in the scent of her skin, she knew she hadn’t been mistaken. He was aware of her as a woman, but was fighting it with everything he had.

  ‘I’m off to tackle that daily mountain of paperwork, and chase up any outstanding lab results,’ she said brightly as she made for the door with her own mug of tea, pausing just long enough to meet his eyes over her shoulder as she added, ‘So you’ll know where I am if you need me.’

  She wasn’t absolutely certain whether it had been humour or panic she’d seen in his eyes for that brief second before she pulled the door shut. It was unlikely to be desire, she told herself sternly, no matter how much she wanted it to be. She really didn’t have nearly enough experience of arousing a man to achieve it with a single one-liner and her first attempt at a sultry look.

  ‘And I’m unlikely to find out, if he continues to be this elusive,’ she grumbled towards the end of another long day.

  Her head was aching from maintaining concentration for such a long time, and as for her legs and back…that many hours spent be
nding over tiny patients was going to give her a permanent stoop by the end of her six months on the unit.

  And, quite apart from the number of children she treated along the way, it would be worth every bit of the discomfort if only it helped Josh to realise the possibility that there could be something more between them, she mused as she finally plodded her way up to her room, wincing at the sound of a furious argument raging in one of the nearby rooms.

  Then she opened her own door and gasped at the sight that met her eyes.

  There was water everywhere, and more flooding down through the ceiling as she watched.

  ‘My books!’ she shrieked and raced across to the desk to gather them up, more grateful than she could say that she’d stacked them into a neat pile before she’d left the room that morning.

  She retreated to the doorway to examine them and breathed a sigh of relief.

  The file on top was completely sodden, but apart from some damp corners, it looked as if the expensive texts had escaped relatively unscathed.

  She couldn’t say the same for her bed or her clothes.

  ‘Dani! What’s happened here? What have you done, girl?’ demanded Marion as she joined her in the doorway, her Irish accent lilting in spite of her obvious shock at what she was seeing.

  ‘It’s not me. It’s the idiot upstairs,’ she snapped when she realised that there was no chance that she was going to get any study done that evening. It was going to take her for ever to get this mess sorted out—if she was going to get it sorted. How was she going to get her mattress dry enough to sleep on? ‘Marion, could you do me a huge favour? Can you run up and hammer on the door to get them to turn the water off? Or get the caretaker with the master key to let you in to do it.’

  Dani couldn’t understand how this could have happened. Each of their rooms was equipped with a self-enclosed wet-room area that combined shower, toilet and hand-basin…one of the comedians in residence had said it made her think of the Orgasmatron in the Jane Fonda film Barbarella…but it should be impossible for water to leak, unless there’d been a catastrophic failure in the plumbing.