by Janice Lynn
“But I’m a really good helper,” her daughter insisted, wearing a pleading expression.
“Yes, you’re a good helper,” she began, but was interrupted by Oz going to Addy and taking her small fingers into his much larger ones. His strong fingers clasped Addy’s fragile ones, twisting Blair’s heart with a reminder of the one thing she could never give her daughter—a father’s love and affection.
Appearing totally serious, Oz thoroughly examined her daughter’s hands.
“I don’t know, Stephanie,” he contemplated, scratching his head. “What do you think? Do these look like good helper hands to you? Kind of look like pipsqueak hands to me.”
Knowing a sucker when she saw him, Addy batted her lashes at Oz. From the moment they’d met, Addy and Oz had hit it off. Probably because he acted as much like a kid as Addy did and he showered her with his attention. Addy thought Oz walked on water.
But seriously, how could Blair expect a five-year-old to resist his charms when grown women couldn’t?
“Mommy, tell Dr Oz what a good helper I am.” Addy’s bright eyes shifted to Blair, then to Oz. No puppy had ever given a more appealing look than the one her daughter bestowed upon her quarry.
Despite her melancholy, Blair bit back a smile. Oz had met his match in Addison Pendergrass.
“You’re the best helper, Addy.” Blair tried to be diplomatic in case Stephanie preferred Addy to stay near Blair. “But I’m sure the lady stuffing envelopes has things under control.”
“Actually, she could use help.” Stephanie earned a pleased look from Addy. “If that’s okay with you, Blair?”
Blair silently mouthed thank you. “As long as she’s not in the way.”
“She won’t be,” Stephanie assured, smiling her acknowledgement. “Oz will help keep an eye on her.”
Blair’s gaze shifted to Oz.
His brow arched.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” His gaze lingered, searched hers, and something flickered in his eyes, unreadable and disturbing. Surprisingly, for once, he looked away first. Turning to Addy, he poured on his own lethal brand of charm, bowing reverently.
“So, Pipsqueak, looks like you’re in charge.” He straightened, grinned, held out his hands palm-up. “I’m a good helper, too. Can I be your envelope stuffer helper?”
Taking his outstretched hands, examining them as closely as he’d done hers, Addy pretended to consider.
“Hey!” Oz teased when she dragged out the examination longer than he deemed necessary. “It’s not like I have cooties.”
“You can be my helper.” Addy giggled, slapping her thigh at her joke. “Since you don’t have cooties.”
“No cooties here,” he promised. “Let me finish going over this form with Stephanie while you save your game, okay? Then we’ll show the world how envelopes are supposed to be addressed and stuffed.”
Two hours later, Blair had procured donations of several more items for the event. She reached up to massage her contracted neck muscles. Man, it had been a long day.
“Tired?”
Startled, she glanced toward where Oz stood in the doorway, watching her. Her fingers paused mid-knead.
“A little.” How long had he been standing there? “I sat too long without stretching.”
She rotated her stiff neck.
When Oz moved behind her, she knew what he was going to do even before she felt his fingers. She wanted to stop him, opened her mouth to do so, but her breath caught, held, burned in her chest.
He touched her tense flesh.
Shards of electricity pulsated through her, lighting fires where he touched and radiating out to the tips of her fingers and toes.
Blair’s insides turned to goop.
This was bad. Very bad.
But oh, my, did bad feel good.
Way too good to find her voice and make him stop.
It was just a quick therapeutic massage. Nothing more.
For therapy. That was all. Really.
Blair’s hands dropped to her lap.
He stroked her tight muscles with a feathery touch. His fingers traced across the curve of her neck. So lightly she could almost think she imagined the burn of his fingertips through the short strands of her hair.
But she wasn’t imagining his touch.
Or her reaction.
Every nerve cell zinged to life, jumped, flipped inside out.
Sighing, she closed her eyes.
His pressure increased.
Standing behind her chair, he worked on her neck and upper shoulders, dispensing every knot, leaving sensitized chaos in his wake.
Every breath echoed across endless time.
Every heartbeat thundered through endless space.
His fingers were magic that massaged away every reason she should tell him to stop, magic that made her forget she didn’t like him.
His hand moved around her neck, stroked over her shoulders, her clavicle.
“Mmm.” She angled to give him easier access, the back of her head brushing against his flat abdomen.
Oh, my.
His fingers skimmed back and forth, slow, teasing, caressing the column of her throat, her chin. He gently traced her mouth. Her tongue darted out to moisten her suddenly dry lips. His fingers paused.
Blair’s breath caught and held.
Butterflies danced in her belly, sending up a fluttery rainbow of sensations that brought her black-and-white world into Technicolor. Sensations that made her acutely aware that she was a woman.
It had been a long time since she’d felt that awareness.
She turned, looked up at him, saw the desire reflected in his eyes.
He reached for her, taking her hand, pulling her to her feet, their bodies so close they practically touched.
In a daze, Blair breathed in his spicy scent, felt his palm cup her face, felt his body heat lure her closer, for her to close the small gap between them.
Although she knew she had to stop him, that she couldn’t kiss Oz when she had no room for him in her life, when he’d only end up hurting her if she let her guard down, she touched his face, running her finger over the cleft in his chin, fighting the strongest desire to do the same with her lips. She loved that indentation, that impression on his flawless face.
“Blair, I—”
“How’s it going, you two?” Stephanie stepped into the room.
Blair jerked away from Oz.
Oh, God.
What had she been doing? Thinking?
Addy could have walked in, seen.
Mortified, Blair couldn’t look at Stephanie. How could she when she’d just been caught with Oz?
A man she didn’t even like!
Dear, sweet heavens. She should have stopped him the moment he’d touched her.
She should have stopped him before her body throbbed from his touch, before she wanted to find out what all the hype about Oz Manning was really about.
A quickie massage didn’t mean anything to Oz. but darn it, she didn’t do this. Physical acts meant something to her, meant a lot to her, but…she should have stopped him. She wasn’t one of his groupies. How could she have behaved no better than any of his other conquests? Hadn’t she learned anything from her experience with Chris?
“Oh, sorry,” Stephanie began, a little red-faced and flustered, too.
No way could she not suspect what Blair and Oz had been about to do.
They’d almost kissed. Oh…oh…oh, darn!
This was insane.
Insane. That was exactly right. Temporary insanity.
Because that was what Oz had done. Driven her insane with his playboy ways and his tenderness toward Dr Talbot and Addy. How could he be such a cad with women and yet so appealing with her daughter and dearest friend? With his patients?
“Did you need something?” Oz’s eyes flashed with annoyance and perhaps relief, too, at Stephanie’s interruption.
“What’s going on?” Her gaze dropped to where his
hand burned into Blair’s lower back like a hot poker. Her thin cotton shirt was no barrier to the sear of his touch.
Needing to put as much space between them as she could, Blair stepped forward.
Oz’s hand fell to his side. “Blair had a crick in her neck.”
Stephanie’s brow quirked. “And you offered to help out?”
“You know me. Always willing to lend a helping hand.”
Blair refused to look at him. She didn’t want to know if he wore a serious expression or if he’d waggled those thick blond brows, making light of the situation. She only wanted to rush to the bathroom and splash cold water on her face in the hope of waking herself and finding this was all a nightmare.
Seeming to have recovered from her initial shock, Stephanie smirked at Oz’s comment. “Especially when a female is involved?”
“Blair is certainly female.”
Blair thought she might die of mortification.
At least then she wouldn’t have to face the reality that she’d let Oz Manning touch her. Not just touch her, but touch her.
He might have started out just massaging her neck, but when Stephanie had walked in he’d been about to kiss her.
The worst part was that she’d let him touch her. As much as she wanted to believe she would have stopped him, she wasn’t so sure that she would have. If Stephanie hadn’t interrupted, she’d be swapping spit with the worst playboy she’d ever encountered.
With Addy in the next room.
Had she completely lost her mind?
“I came to tell you Dorothy is leaving in just a few. Addy is helping her finish the last of the mailers.”
Drawing upon all her strength, Blair kept her shoulders high and walked around the desk. She checked her watch. Almost eight on a school night.
“I need to go, too, but I’m off duty on Saturday. Would that be an okay time for Addy and I to come back?”
Stephanie’s curious eyes lit with gratitude. “That would be wonderful. Addy was a great help with the envelopes.”
“I’ll take the list home with me and finish making the calls while I’m at lunch tomorrow or Friday. Perhaps even at Dr Talbot’s tomorrow night if he naps. Maybe I can get the rest marked off between now and Saturday.”
“I’ll be here on Saturday, too. I’ll bring Dr T with me if he’s up to it. He needs to get out of the house.” Oz moved behind Blair, not so close that he was touching her, but enough that his scent enveloped her, taking her back to the moments before Stephanie had walked into the room. No. No. No. She did not wish she’d kissed Oz.
“We’ll go over what we have covered for the fund-raiser,” Oz continued, oblivious to the effect he was having on Blair. “Hire out what we don’t, grab some lunch, then spend the rest of the day with Dr T.”
“Thanks.” Stephanie smiled knowingly at them, a pleased smile, making Blair even more self-conscious. “I’ll just go tell Dorothy goodbye and leave you two alone so Oz can go back to…um…helping.”
Great.
The moment Stephanie was gone, Blair spun toward Oz. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Don’t go all defensive,” he warned, giving her a frustrated look that said perhaps he wasn’t as calm as he’d pretended. That maybe he had been aware of the effect his nearness was having on her and that he’d been just as affected.
“I’m not being defensive,” she spat back, determined not to go soft on him again.
“Yes, you are. I understand.” The blasted man stroked his knuckles across her face. “We should go somewhere and talk.”
Talk? Yeah, right. Oz wasn’t known for talking to women.
Glaring at him, Blair pulled back. He couldn’t touch her. She couldn’t let him. He was dangerous. Too dangerous.
Just look what had happened the last time she’d let a man get close to her. She’d ended up pregnant and alone, mourning the death of a man she hadn’t known had been married to someone else, much less that he’d had other “girlfriends.”
Now, she had a great life that she’d worked long and hard to forge. She wouldn’t let a man destroy her a second time.
“We have nothing to say to each other.”
“We need to talk about what just happened.” Was he staring at her lips?
Dear Lord, he was.
She swallowed. Hard.
She’d known he hadn’t really wanted to talk. Did he think she was a fool? That he could just almost kiss her and she’d fall at his feet?
“Nothing happened, Dr Manning,” she snapped coolly. “Even if Stephanie hadn’t walked in, nothing would have happened. I don’t like you, and I certainly didn’t want you to touch me or kiss me.” The words ground out between gritted teeth. “I prefer for you to stay away from me and my daughter. Got it?”
Oz had wanted to kiss Blair more than he recalled ever wanting to kiss any woman.
He’d wanted to kiss her so much he ached with need from the ends of his hair to the tips of his toes and all in between.
He’d especially ached in between.
Now he just wanted to strangle her lying throat.
He wasn’t some inexperienced schoolboy. He knew when a woman wanted him. Blair had wanted him to kiss her. Perhaps not as much as he’d wanted to kiss her, but she’d wanted his mouth on hers.
But she was right. He shouldn’t have touched her.
Hadn’t he always known not to touch Blair? That touching her wouldn’t be nearly enough? Hadn’t he subconsciously appreciated that she avoided him because it made doing the right thing easier? Hadn’t he always made a point to keep a physical distance between them?
Why had he crossed that line tonight?
She was a complicated woman with a child. She was white picket fences and promises of forever. He was his father’s son and liked women. Lots of women. He didn’t do commitment, didn’t do long-term relationships.
Yet, even now, with her staring at him as if he were the devil incarnate, he wanted to pull her to him and assure her that their touching had felt more right than anything he’d experienced in a long time. Maybe ever.
Which made no sense.
Likely the strain of caring for Dr T, of seeing his friend suffer, was getting to him and explained his weakness with Blair.
“I need to get Addy.” She turned, picked up her purse from where she’d set the leather bag after they’d arrived, then moved to where Addy had left her satchel of goodies to keep her entertained.
“I’ll walk you to your car.” He should just let her go. Should take a leaf from her book and pretend nothing had happened. Surely that would be for the best?
So, why couldn’t he? Why did he want to kiss her until she admitted that she’d been as affected as he had?
Blair slid the pink hand-held video game player into Addy’s bag. “There’s no need.”
“I’ll walk you to your car,” he repeated, irritated that she insisted upon pushing him away at every turn. “This neighborhood isn’t the best at night.”
This time Blair nodded without looking at him.
When she said it was time to go, Addy proudly pointed to the box filled with stuffed envelopes.
“See what I did, Mommy? Miss Stephanie says I’m a great ’lope stuffer and she hopes I’ll come back.” Addy looked at Stephanie for reassurance and the director nodded. “Can I, Mommy?”
“We’ll see.”
Oz wondered if he was the only one who noticed the break in Blair’s voice, the tremble of her hand, the way she looked anywhere in the room but at him.
“Dr Oz said I was a good helper, too, didn’t you, Dr Oz?” Addy bestowed him with the smile of an angel.
“I did, Pipsqueak.” Giving her an indulgent look, Oz touched Addy’s curly blond ponytail, letting a ringlet wrap around his finger.
Tight-lipped, Blair reached for Addy’s hand, effectively moving the girl away from him. He let her, hating how his rib cage crushed his internal organs to the point he could barely breathe.
Blair had told him
to stay away from her and Addy.
Hell, no! The thought rushed through his heart. But if that was what Blair wanted, he’d honor her wishes. At least as much as he could, given their circumstances.
“Thanks for letting her help.” Blair hugged Stephanie. She smiled down at her daughter, who’d taken her Hello Kitty bag and slung it over her tiny shoulders. “Let’s go check on Aunt Reesee to see if she got lots of studying done.”
“Aunt Reesee?” Oz followed them out of the building. Dr T had mentioned Blair’s younger sister lived with her and Addy. Despite the twice-a-year trips Oz made to the Gulf, he knew very little about Blair outside of what Dr T had volunteered. He’d purposely never asked questions.
“My nineteen-year-old sister.” Blair kept her gaze locked on Addy, kept her tone even, probably for her daughter’s sake, because he suspected she’d like to lash out at him. “She’s in school at University of Alabama in Birmingham, but is taking several of her general study classes online to cut down on commuting and to help with Addy.”
“Aunt Reesee is cool,” Addy piped up, bouncing along beside them. “She lets me watch SpongeBob and drink soda pop after dark.”
Blair’s brow lifted. “Oh, really?”
Realizing her mistake, Addy faked a yawn and skipped ahead to Blair’s mid-size four-door sedan. When Blair punched the remote entry, unlocking the door, Addy climbed in and began buckling herself into a child safety seat.
“Blair, about earlier,” he began, speaking quietly in deference to the little girl who’d taken her video game out of her bag and chatted to her virtual pet.
Blair stepped back, not looking at him. “It was no big deal. Forget it happened.”
Despite having just told himself the same thing, he didn’t like Blair’s quick denial. She was treating him as if he were a lecherous creep and her disdain annoyed him.
“Wasn’t it?” he challenged.
Her teeth sank into her lower lip. “We both know you’re an incurable flirt. What happened didn’t mean a thing. Like I said, no big deal.” She glanced toward where Addy played her game. “I need to go.”
An incurable flirt? Blair’s words stung. She made it sound as if he were diseased and condemned. Maybe he was. After all, wasn’t that exactly how his mother had thought of his father? Like father, like son. Wasn’t that what she always said?