The ambulance arrived. Bob rushed outside to show them the way. Two paramedics entered the room, one taking Kirstin’s place with the baby. The other assisted Christopher as he completed his work. A small oxygen mask was secured over the infant’s nose and mouth. Jenny and the baby were loaded onto stretchers and transported to the ambulance.
The paramedics were well trained, so there was no need for Christopher to go along with them. However, Bob was in no condition to drive and would need a way home later. Christopher asked Kirstin if she minded waiting there for him while he drove the new father to the hospital in Bob’s car. “I’ll get John to meet us there and bring me back here for you and my Jeep.”
Knowing she couldn’t drive his Wagoneer since it had dual foot pedals, she agreed. The ambulance pulled out of the driveway with Bob and Christopher behind it. Kirstin collapsed wearily into a nearby chair. She hadn’t mentioned her aching wrist to Christopher, but pains were shooting up her forearm. Maybe she should have gone along and had it checked; but she didn’t want to upset Jenny or worry Christopher, or get in the way during the hectic journey and check-in at the Clovis hospital. Tears clouded her eyes. She was mentally and physically exhausted.
She fetched a cup of coffee and sat down to relax while she sipped it. To give her wrist and ankle relief, she propped one on an ottoman and the other on the chair arm. At last, the discomfort lessened. It felt odd to be sitting in a strange house, alone.
As time passed at a snail’s pace, Kirstin decided to make herself helpful. She went to the bedroom, located clean linens, and changed the bed for Bob. She washed the soiled sheets in cold water to remove the blood. When the laundry was done and the house was neat for the new mother’s return, she sat down to sip another cup of coffee and watch television, an old rerun featuring John Wayne.
As she shifted her position, her head whirled and tiny lights filled her vision. She realized she felt weak and clammy, and it was way past eating time. She hadn’t thought to bring along her test kit, but she didn’t need it to recognize hypoglycemic symptoms. Nor had Christopher thought to remind her of the monitor during his frantic rush. Food, glucose tablets! her mind shouted. She grabbed her purse, fumbled for what she needed, and twisted off the top of a liquid glucose tube. She squeezed it into her mouth and got it down quickly. She waited a few minutes for it to take effect, then went to the kitchen where she made a sandwich, poured a glass of milk, took an apple, peeled two carrots, and sat at the table to devour it all. She hated the queasiness and tremors that went along with an attack and prayed for them to be gone soon. As she settled down, she was relieved the cupboards hadn’t been bare or she’d have been in big trouble. And Christopher would have blamed himself for her dilemma when he returned and found her out cold.
Kirstin smiled as she realized how well she had handled this one. She hadn’t exactly panicked, and she was fine now. Yes, she was getting a grip on her condition. Every day and with each incident, she was learning better control and conquering her fears. She would have this beast tamed before she reached California. Confidence and pride surged through her as she assured herself that the diabetes wouldn’t hold her down.
After she finished eating and the kitchen was clean, Kirstin went to the medicine cabinet for some aspirin to ease the discomfort of her injuries. To reduce their swelling, she filled plastic baggies with ice and fetched two towels, which she spread on the chair arm and the ottoman. She placed her ankle on one towel, positioned ice bags on either side of it, and encircled her foot with the cloth to prevent dripping water on the furniture and floor. She did the same with her wrist. She leaned back and waited for relief. In the middle of the late movie, she fell asleep.
“Kirstin?” Christopher’s voice and gentle nudging pulled her from her dreams. “Kirstin, it’s time to go home.”
Her lids fluttered and opened. Groggy, she rubbed her eyes and yawned. The television was off. Bob stood nearby, waiting to thank her for her help, which he did. Christopher sat on the edge of the couch near her. “I thought John was bringing you after me and the car. What happened?”
“It wasn’t necessary; the doctors sent Bob home. Jenny and the baby are fine.” He unwrapped the towel, checked her wrist, then her ankle. He eyed her with an added respect and increased affection. In the beginning, he had irrationally resented her strength and talents. Now, he didn’t begrudge them in the least. He smiled in satisfaction. “I’m proud of you, Kirstin, and grateful. I couldn’t have managed alone tonight. You constantly amaze me, woman,” he admitted, even though Bob was standing there listening.
Kirstin was aware of the other man. “You said they’re fine?”
“In excellent condition and hands. The baby’s a shave over five pounds. How’re the sprains?” He guessed they must be hurting like hell, or had been.
“Better. I used some aspirin and ate a snack, Bob; I hope you don’t mind. Does he have a name yet?”
Bob grinned from ear to ear. “Christopher Lowery Carlisle. Jenny and I thought Kirstin sounded too girlish. She asked me to thank you for what you did for us tonight. I was too scared to be any help. I was out of my wits when I called the doc and he didn’t answer. Sorry about your hand. I know Jenny must have squeezed it something fierce.”
Kirstin was touched by his concern and her eyes filled with’ tears. “I hope you didn’t tell her. It’s fine now,” she alleged as she flexed her fingers to prove her false claim. “We’d better get going, Christopher, so Bob can get some rest; he’ll need it soon.”
The three chatted while Kirstin and Christopher prepared to depart. Bob noticed the chores Kirstin had done and thanked her for being so helpful.
On the drive home, Kirstin rested her head against the car seat. She didn’t mention the baby’s name, which locked both of theirs together for the child’s lifetime. She thought about Christopher; he was such a complex man. Each day, she discovered more about him. So many men were resentful of successful, intelligent women. It was wonderful to have the freedom to be herself. He appeared to accept her as she was, which was rare these turbulent days when females were making their skills and ambitions known loudly, to many men’s dismay. What a delightful situa—
“Sleepy?” He thrust himself into her thoughtful silence.
“Yes, but pleasantly so. That was some experience, Doc.” The lights from the dashboard and the moon mingled to outline certain angles of his handsome face, while shadows concealed other pleasing contours.
“You were scared, weren’t you?” he asked.
“At first. Weren’t you, the first time you worked on a human patient?”
“Terrified,” he admitted with an amused chuckle. “Frankly, I was tonight, too. If you hadn’t been there, Kirstin, one of them might not have made it. I’m really grateful to you.” We made a good team tonight. If only I could lure you into staying here as my assistant.
She studied him for a time, suspecting the confession was difficult, but from the heart. We work well together. What a team we’d make in the lab if you’d just give up the ranch and come with me … “You’re a great doctor, Christopher. These people are fortunate to have you around.”
“Flattery so early in the morning?” he murmured.
“No flattery intended, Doctor Harrison. Do you have many emergencies like that?”
“Very few. Mostly just routine check-ups, sickness, and minor accidents. Only once in a blue moon do I require help.” Damnation, Chris, you’re supposed to convince her you need her! But don’t point out your blunder by trying to explain it.
“Lucky for you I was around when your ‘blue moon’ rose tonight.”
He chuckled. “Conceited little snip, aren’t you?”
She laughed. “Yep, it’s one of my bad habits. I’ll have to work on it. Criticism noted and applied.”
“I wasn’t criticizing you, Kirstin. Just kidding.”
“I know. I guess I’m feeling a little heady with pride right now. I really didn’t think I could help much. Sometimes I surp
rise even myself.”
He threw back his head and laughed. He asked, “How’s the blood sugar level?”
“Fine. I ate at Bob’s. And I was prepared for emergencies, thank you.”
“Smart woman.” He pulled into his driveway and parked the car. He came around, helped her out, and lifted her to carry her inside.
“This isn’t necessary; I have my crutches.”
“It is necessary. I have to remind you constantly that I’m the male and you’re the female. Men are expected to be domineering in some situations; this is one.”
As they mounted the steps with her arms clasped around his neck, she challenged, “How so, Doctor Harrison?”
He gazed into her face and mischievously warned, “I’m taking you straight to bed, and not to sleep, either, exhaustion and swollen head to boot! Not to mention a swollen wrist and ankle,” he added.
“I see,” she murmured in a mellow tone. “You intend to make love whether or not I’m willing or in the mood?”
“Are you?”
“Am I what?” she questioned.
“In the mood? Willing?”
“Both, but you could ask me first. This is a fifty-fifty partnership.”
He propped her on the porch as he unlocked the door, then held her by the shoulders as he murmured, “Mrs. Lowrey, will you do me the honor of sharing my lonely bed and affections this evening?”
Assuming a heavy southern drawl, she responded, “Why, sir, do these delicate ears deceive me? Are you implying that I should fall into your arms and bed like some brazen hussy? Wherever would you get such an insulting idea? I do believe you have gotten the wrong impression about me. I’m a lady, sir, but you’re no gentleman. The door unlocked yet?” she asked in her normal voice. “We’re wasting time; it’s almost daylight.”
Hearty chuckles rumbled in his chest. “You are a fetching tart, Kirstin Lowrey,” he accused playfully.
“Then I pray you love sweets, Doc.”
“Indeed I do.”
He kicked the door shut and locked it with the hand under her knees. “Would you like to join me for a shower first?”
A grin crossed her face. Perhaps this was a night for many new firsts. “Why not?”
“An adventuress after my own heart.”
Eleven
“That tickles, Christopher!” Kirstin shrieked, squeezing her arms to her sides as he trailed soapy hands up and down her ribs, her back to him in the shower.
His hands found another target to tantalize. They approved of what they encountered as they moved over her ivory buttocks. He remarked. “You have a cute fanny, Kirstin. Nice legs, too.”
“Your rump isn’t bad, either,” she tossed over a shoulder, grinning.
He leaned forward to gaze over it. “Not a bad looking front, either.”
Kirstin turned to face him and eased her lathered hands over his chest. She twirled wisps of sudsy hair around her fingertips. Flattening her palms against the firm and furry chest, she moved them upward to caress his shoulders and to slide with leisure down his powerful arms. The physical labor on the ranch had honed his body into hard, bronzed flesh. It was apparent he often worked without his shirt, since his upper torso was cinnamonshaded, while his lower half was pale.
Her gaze walked his towering length. His legs were firm and shapely. The hair on his husky chest tapered as it traveled downward to fan out around his navel and manhood. Her admiring gaze had an instant effect upon him there.
Her sparkling eyes came up to fuse with his as his finger beneath her chin lifted it. “You’re a tease, woman,” he murmured hoarsely.
“A tease doesn’t deliver, Doc,” Kirstin corrected him.
Christopher drew a ragged breath, then grinned. His hands reached out to play in the bubbles on her breasts. With stimulating slowness, he passed his hands over her shoulders, down her arms, and grasped her hands. He lifted them to wash each one at a sensuous pace, slipping his forefinger between each of her fingers, then drawing soapy circles in her palms. His hands touched beneath her arms, then made their way down her sides, over her hips, and around her buttocks, to grasp them and pull her body forward, crushing it against his.
Christopher’s head bent forward to sear his lips over hers. Her arms went around his neck, to hold his mouth to hers as he explored it. He nibbled along her neck toward its hollow, jerking backward and spitting out soapsuds. As Kirstin laughed, he turned to the water to rinse his mouth and face of the white lather.
“Damn, I thought you tasted better than that,” he jested, her laughter spilling forth in unleashed amusement to fuse with his chuckles.
Christopher twisted to rinse soap from his body, then maneuvered her under the gushing flow to do the same. He stepped out on the mat and towel dried himself.
When she left the shower, Christopher began to dry her off, too. Kirstin reached for the towel. “I can do that myself.”
“I prefer to do it,” he protested, holding the cloth behind him.
Seeing he was not to be dissuaded, she held out her arms and commanded, “Then get busy, my dashing slave.”
He squinted his eyes and creased his forehead as he rubbed his upper lip with the side of his forefinger. “Maybe I should let you drip dry.”
Kirstin reached forward to fondle his manhood, flashing him a smug smile. “I don’t think you have the time, Doc. Someone’s talking loudly and strongly about going to bed.”
He dried her off in haste. “Sit,” he ordered, pointing to the toilet seat. “Let’s get that foot and hand unwrapped and checked now.”
After the protective baggies were removed, he lifted her naked body and carried her to his bed. Kirstin wondered why he wanted to sleep in his room tonight, but didn’t ask him to explain. He dropped her on the bed and hopped in beside her. “Eager, are we?” she challenged.
“Starved,” he admitted.
“Shall I fix you something to eat?” she purred.
“I can think of a much better way to sate this lusty appetite,” he declared, rolling over on her and assailing her neck with countless kisses. He halted a moment to ask, “You need a snack before we get engrossed?”
“Nope. I ate at the Carlisles’. Continue, please.”
“Um-um-um, you feel good,” he murmured, caressing all the places his hands touched and letting his lips trail close behind them.
He didn’t seem in a hurry to take her. He was like an explorer— seeking, mapping, documenting, and collecting rare treasures.
Kirstin’s fingers were just as inquisitive, roaming freely over his sturdy physique. It was strange how his toughened hands could fondle her so gently to such ecstasy. When his teeth nipped at her breasts, it was as if tiny surges of electricity sparked through her body. She was alive with feeling, her nerves sensitive to his every touch. She thrilled to the blissful sensation of their naked bodies pressed together. Her smooth legs eased over his; the coarse hair tickled. The stubble on his jaw. and chin excited her as the rancher brushed it over her taut nipples.
As he devoured her breasts ravenously, she placed feathery kisses on his head and her fingers wandered through hair the color of coal in the dazzling sunlight. He had a way of making her feel intensely aware of being a woman, a desirable woman. He brought to life sensations and feelings she had never questioned or known before.
Kirstin knew she would never be the same after knowing him. At this moment, she was willing to sacrifice all just to have him for herself, but knew that would be reckless and impulsive. She tried to shut out such upsetting thoughts. She refused to think about her work or ambitions, even her family, particularly her son. Her life was in San Diego and his was here. Besides, he hadn’t mentioned love or permanence, only desire and affection, and only for a few weeks.
Christopher couldn’t seem to touch Kirstin enough. Each time his greedy hands and lips left one delicious delicacy, they came away starving for more. Her body was sleek and supple, her skin flawless and silky, her mood as sultry as an August day. He thought he
knew every inch and taste of it by now, but he constantly found a new feeling or flavor as his hands and mouth roved over her time and time again. Pleasure flooded him as his hands caressed her vital, warm skin. She seemed aroused by his every touch. No woman had ever responded with such feverish and honest abandonment as Kirstin did.
Her responses encouraged him to continue his heady and stimulating assault upon her luscious body. He delayed entering her as long as possible, knowing how quickly their mutual desires would take over and demand release from this heavenly hell they were enduring. But his manhood was aching to feel her haven surrounding it. She was driving him mad the way she was slowly and lovingly stroking him. Soon he was unable to wait any longer and he entered her with a groan of delight.
Kirstin arched to match his rhythm, straining to feel every inch of him. His lips plun-”. dered hers. He drove with purpose as she writhed and moaned in rapture. He wished he was spilling forth into her body to mingle his release with hers. That one remaining pleasure would come true soon, he hoped. But she’d need to get on -the pill.
Afterward, he was breathing hard and heavy from his exertions as he held her close. She sighed in contentment and nestled to him, bringing a smile to his face. He rolled to his back and placed one hand beneath his head. Kirstin curled against his side, lay hers on his shoulder, and rested a leg over his thigh. His arm eased around her. “You know something weird, Kirstin?” he asked through the darkness surrounding them. “I’ve known lots of women, but none like you. You demand a great deal, but you give more than any other female I’ve known. The way you sate a man only makes him greedy for more. I can’t take enough of you, I can’t touch you enough. Does that sound crazy?”
“Not at all, and thank you very much. Of course, I don’t have your countless experiences for making comparisons, but I would bet you’re the best lover and teacher available. I can’t imagine any man being better at this than you are. One thing I’ve learned with you, amongst lots of others, sex and lovemaking aren’t the same thing. You don’t ‘have sex,’ Christopher; you ‘make love.’ Everything is good and different and exciting with you. After I reach San Diego and start work there, I’ll be looking forward to weekends and holidays. My heavens, listen to me. Kirstin Lowrey planning secret rendezvous.”
Taking Chances Page 22