Mission: M.D.

by Linda Turner

  “No!” Cringing at the very idea of her touching him, he jerked open the door to the examining room. “Get out, Laureen. Go back to Dallas and find yourself a good psychiatrist—you need help. And the next time you decide to do something crazy and hurt yourself, go to the emergency room. Maybe someone there can help you. I can’t.”

  In the time it took to blink, fury flashed in her eyes. “I’m not crazy!”

  “I didn’t say you were,” he retorted. “I said you needed help. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other patients to see. You can pay at the front desk.”

  “You’re the one who’ll pay, Turk,” she promised. “Just wait. You’re going to regret speaking to me this way. I’ll make sure of it.”

  He regretted ever speaking to her, period, not to mention asking her out, but she didn’t stick around to hear that. Storming down the hall, she didn’t stop to pay her bill at the billing desk, and no one tried to stop her. Jerking open the door, she swept outside without a backward glance and let the door fly.

  Turk didn’t flinch. She was gone. Thank God! She had to be the densest woman he’d ever met in his life. Had she gotten the message? He wanted to think she had, but who knew for sure? She hadn’t paid her bill, and he wouldn’t put it past her to use that as a reason to get in touch with him when he billed her. He’d nip that in the bud right now, he decided grimly. He wouldn’t bill her at all.

  With the matter settled, he returned to Mrs. Carson, apologizing for the delay, but he couldn’t dismiss Laureen from his thoughts nearly as easily as he’d hoped. What would the crazy woman do next? Would she hurt herself again? She’d burned herself pretty badly, and while that had gotten her past the front desk, things hadn’t turned out the way she’d obviously hoped. What if next time, she decided to hurt herself so severely that she ended up in the hospital? As much as he disliked her, he couldn’t just ignore the fact that she was a danger to herself. There had to be something he could do.

  But when he dropped by the police station after work, he quickly discovered that there wasn’t much anyone could do. “She’s not hurting anyone but herself,” Doug Walker, a detective with the Hunter’s Ridge police department, told him. “She hasn’t been declared incompetent. She hasn’t committed a crime. Until she breaks the law, there’s nothing we can do.”

  “So you know she could kill herself and you do nothing?” Turk said incredulously. “That’s nuts! There must be something someone can do!”

  “Convince her to check herself into a mental hospital,” the detective told him. “She needs help.”

  “Yeah, right,” he snorted. “You try telling her that. When I tried to get through to her, she threatened me. I want nothing to do with the woman.”

  Walker frowned. “Threatened you how? If she’s threatening your life, there may be something we can do about that.”

  “No, it wasn’t that kind of threat. She was just mad when I told her she needed a psychiatrist. She stormed out of the clinic threatening to make me pay for that.”

  “Do you think she’s capable of hurting you?”

  Turk immediately started to dismiss such an idea, only to hesitate. “To be perfectly honest, I don’t know her well enough to know what she’s capable of. I know she’s got a quick temper…and a hell of a lot of nerve. Other than that, it’s hard to say what she would do.”

  “You can get a TRO if she keeps harassing you. Temporary restraining order,” he explained when Turk lifted an inquiring brow. “And you can try to get a protective order against her, but if she has mental problems, she’s going to ignore the order and do what she damn well pleases.”

  “And you can’t really do anything until she hurts me or herself.”

  “Unfortunately, no,” he replied. “At this point, all I can advise you to do is stay as far away from her as possible.”

  “Trust me—I’m trying! I moved, changed my phone numbers, and cut myself completely off from her. Three weeks later, she shows up at my clinic. I can’t refuse her treatment if she’s hurt.”

  “No, but you can give her minimum treatment and call an ambulance. If she objects and becomes disruptive, call me. We can arrest her for that.”

  Thanking him for the advice, Turk knew he meant well, but Laureen wasn’t concerned about being arrested. He’d unintentionally insulted her, and there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that she would be back. The question was…when?

  Saturday was nearly a week away, and Rachel clung to the thought that surely something would come up between now and then so she wouldn’t have to keep her date with Turk. But the week flew by, and before she knew it, it was Saturday. In less than an hour, he’d be knocking at her front door.

  Panic twisted her stomach in knots at the thought, and she almost called him to tell him she was sick. But her pride screamed in outrage, and her common sense warned her he’d never let her get away with such a flimsy excuse. He was a doctor, for heaven’s sake! Knowing him, he’d insist on coming over to check on her, and all he’d have to do was look at her to know that she was just nervous. And oh, how he’d delight in that!

  Irritated, she refused to give him that kind of satisfaction. Okay, so she had no choice but to go bowling with him, but they weren’t really going on a date. It was for charity. Granted, he was picking her up at her house and taking her home afterward, but there was nothing the least bit romantic about it. They weren’t going to dinner or out for a drink later—she didn’t even plan to wear perfume! They’d bowl two games and he’d bring her home. Big deal.

  Relieved that she’d worked it all out in her head, she changed into jeans and a knit shirt. But when she stood before the full-length mirror in her bedroom, she wrinkled her nose in distaste. The jeans were slouchy and the once red shirt must have faded in the last wash. Without a thought, she turned back to her closet.

  When her doorbell rang thirty minutes later, she was dressed in her best jeans and her favorite sweater, but only because nothing else she tried on seemed right for bowling. If her hair was soft and feminine on her shoulders, she certainly hadn’t worn it that way because she thought it would appeal to Turk. She just looked better with it down. And yes, she was wearing her favorite lipstick…because her lips were dry, and perfume—because she loved the scent of it. She certainly wasn’t trying to attract Turk.

  Satisfied that he wouldn’t mistakenly think she was actually looking forward to going out with him, she headed for the front door. If her knees were knocking and her heart was threatening to pound right out of her chest, she told herself it was only because she really didn’t want to do this. Her sudden nervousness had nothing to do with Turk.

  And for a few moments, she actually believed that. Then she opened the door to him.

  “Wow!” he said, flashing her a wicked, teasing grin. “You look great!”

  Suddenly more nervous than she’d ever been in her life, she frowned, “Don’t get any ideas, Turk. This is not a date.”

  “Really?” Amusement danced in his eyes. “I really make you nervous, don’t I?”

  “No, of course not!”

  “You’re perfectly safe with me, you know. I promise I won’t kiss you in front of everyone at the bowling alley.”

  “You’re not kissing me, period!”

  He grinned. “Wanna bet?”

  Heat climbed in her cheeks. Damn the man! How could he make her laugh when she was determined not to? “No,” she retorted. “You make everything a throw down, and I’m not going there with you. So behave yourself!”

  “Yes, dear. Whatever you say, dear.”

  “I am not your dear!”

  Not the least discouraged, he chuckled, “You’re fighting a losing battle here. You know that, don’t you? You’re as attracted to me as I am to you.”

  “I am not!”

  “Really? I’ll prove it to you.” And with what seemed like no effort at all, he pulled her into his arms.

  Her heart was pounding long before his mouth covered hers. She expected a hot, hungry kiss, the
kind that no woman in her right mind would be able to resist, but she should have known he wouldn’t hit her with the obvious. Whisper-soft, he kissed her slowly, gently, with a care that was her undoing. Her thoughts clouded, her mouth moved under his, and she melted against him, kissing him back with a hunger that seemed to come from the depths of her being.

  Later, she couldn’t have said how long they stood there in her open doorway, kissing in front of God and anyone who happened to pass by. Lost to everything but the feelings he stirred in her so effortlessly, she could have kissed him for hours, days…

  But just as his hands swept over her, turning her boneless, he reluctantly drew back, putting her gently from him before she could even begin to guess his intentions.

  It wasn’t until she slowly opened her eyes and her gaze met the satisfied glint in his that she realized just how much she’d told him about her feelings, all without saying a word.

  Jerking back, she rasped, “A kiss doesn’t prove anything—”

  “The hell it doesn’t, sweetheart. You kissed me back and did a darn good job of it. For a moment there, I actually thought you cared.”

  “Oh, please!” she groaned. “That was nothing but pure chemistry and you know it!”

  “Aha! So you are attracted to me! You just admitted it!”

  “I did not! Chemistry and attraction are two different things.”

  “That’s okay, sweetheart, you keep telling yourself that,” he said easily, taking her hand and pulling her outside with him. “We both know the truth. I understand if you have a hard time admitting it to yourself. You’re one of those women who likes to win. Nothing wrong with that. We’re going to burn up the lanes today! Let’s go.”

  He linked his fingers with hers before she could stop him, and within seconds, they were walking down the street hand in hand. “What are you doing?” she demanded, tugging at her hand. “I thought we were taking the car.”

  “It’s only four blocks to the bowling alley, and it’s a beautiful day. I thought we’d walk.”

  She didn’t have a problem with that, but holding hands? “Can I have my hand back?”

  “When we get to the bowling alley,” he said, chuckling. “C’mon. Relax. I don’t have cooties. I promise.”

  Swinging their joined hands, he grinned down at her, and Rachel found herself charmed. He was impossible, she thought, swallowing a groan. And far too clever. With nothing more than a kiss and the feel of her hand in his, he made her forget that the only man she was looking for was a sperm donor.

  Ten minutes later, they reached the bowling alley, and just as he promised, Turk released her hand, but only to introduce her to a dozen or more of his friends. “Hey, everybody, this is my date, Rachel Martin. Rachel, this is John and Robert. And that’s Jaxon and the tall dude is Chris and…”

  Stunned, Rachel hardly heard him. “These are your friends? How? You just moved here!”

  “Hey, I’m a likable kind of guy,” he retorted, grinning. “Ask anyone. They’ll tell you.”

  “He works weekends at the county hospital with us,” Chris, the tall dude, told her with a grin. “He’s as crazy as we are. When he told us he was taking you bowling on your first date, we decided you needed a chaperone, so here we are. Did I mention that you’re as cute as he said you were?”

  “Yeah, why didn’t he take you dancing instead of bowling?” one of the other guys asked, scowling. “Then we could have danced with you!”

  “I claim her for my team!” a short guy at the back of the group called out suddenly. “We’re going to beat the socks off you guys.”

  “Hey, she’s my date!” Turk protested.

  “Okay, so you can be on our team, too. And Robert. He’s got a wicked curve,” he told Rachel with a wink. “Goes right in the pocket every time!”

  Two hours later, Rachel couldn’t remember when she’d last had so much fun. Turk, Robert and Burt, the short one who insisted she be on his team, were darn good bowlers. But she was better. When she got a strike on her very first ball, Turk burst out laughing. “Girl, you’ve been holding out on me! You didn’t tell me you knew how to bowl.”

  Grinning, she sassed, “You didn’t ask.”

  “So what else aren’t you telling me?” he teased, his blue eyes dancing. “Maybe we should talk.”

  Her heart stopped in her breast. If he and his friends only knew that she was looking for a kind, intelligent man to father her baby and that she didn’t ever plan to see him again, they wouldn’t even be speaking to her. And she couldn’t say she’d blame them.

  Trying not to think what they might think of her, she forced a smile. “So what do you want to know? That I won a pie-eating contest when I was six? Or that I know how to count cards? I wouldn’t advise you to play strip poker with me. You’ll be the one who’ll be sitting there in your birthday suit, not me.”

  “Whoa-ho!” Burt laughed. “I like this girl. I knew there was a reason I wanted her on my team!”

  “Back off,” Turk said good-naturedly. “I saw her first.”

  Rachel lifted a delicately arched brow at him. “Excuse me?”

  “C’mon, you know it’s true. I was standing in line at the bakery, just waiting my turn at coffee and doughnuts, and there you were, just daring me to ask you out.”

  “I was not!”

  “So I did, and what did you do? Turn me down flat. But that’s okay,” he assured her, his blue eyes dancing with mischief. “I don’t get discouraged that easily. I can beg.”

  “Stop that!” she laughed, blushing as his friends all started ribbing him. “I didn’t make you beg. You wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

  “Only because I knew you didn’t want me to. I know when a woman wants me.”

  “Turk!”

  “Okay, okay, time to break this party up,” Burt said with a chuckle. “If you guys are going to start getting all mushy on us, we’re going to hit the road. Next time you need twelve chaperones, call us. This was fun.”

  “Hey, what if we don’t want to leave?” Robert objected. “Let’s bowl another game.”

  Six inches shorter and fifty pounds lighter, Burt grabbed him by the scruff of the neck. “They want to be alone, knucklehead. It’s time for us to leave.”

  “Oh. Ohhh! Well, why didn’t you say so? Bye, Rachel. It was great meeting you. If you ever decide to dump Mr. Wonderful here,” he told her, nudging Turk, “give me a call. I’m taller than he is…and cuter. Ask my mom. She’ll tell you.”

  “That’s because she’s your mother, dummy,” one of the other guys said as they all headed for the door. “She’s lied to you all these years. You just didn’t know it.”

  “What? No way!”

  “Yeah. I’m telling you—”

  Unable to stop smiling as she and Turk followed the others outside, Rachel chuckled, hating to see them go. “I like your friends.”

  “They’re good guys.”

  “But they didn’t have to run off. We’re not getting mushy.”

  “Sure we are,” he chuckled, taking her hand. “C’mon, I’ll walk you home.”

  She shouldn’t have let him take her hand again, but it just felt so right. And what would it hurt? she told herself. It was only four blocks to her house. In ten minutes, she’d be telling him good-night and going inside, anyway. What could happen in ten minutes?

  His thumb slid caressingly across her palm, making her heart skip in her breast. Just that quickly she was breathless. “Turk—”

  At her warning tone, his hand tightened around hers. “Yes, sweetheart?”

  Her lips twitched. “You’re outrageous. You don’t need to hold my hand, Doctor. I know my way home.”

  “So do I,” he chuckled. “And I like holding your hand. It fits just perfectly in mine. Haven’t you noticed?”

  She had, but she wasn’t about to tell him that. “I’ll bet you tell all your dates that,” she said dryly.

  “Actually, I’ve never said that to anyone before,” he said, sobering. �
�Interesting, huh?”

  Interesting didn’t begin to describe it, she thought, shaken. What was going on here? Why did her hand feel so right in his? And what was she going to do about it?

  Her heart pounding at the thought, she arched a brow at him as both their houses came into view down the street. “Why aren’t you married?” she asked curiously.

  He grinned. “You mean because I’m cute and adorable and such a good catch? You know, I’ve asked myself the same thing. What’s wrong with you women? Don’t you know a good thing when you see it?”

  “Hey, don’t blame me,” she retorted. “I would have thought a smart woman would have snapped you up years ago.”

  “Oh, they tried,” he admitted ruefully. “But they didn’t fit in with my career plans.”

  “You’re never going to get married?”

  “I didn’t say that. I’ve just got my life planned out, and there’s no room for a wife right now. I’ve got to establish my practice before I can even think about settling down with a wife and kids.”

  “How long do you think that’ll take? Not that I’m interested for myself,” she hurriedly assured him. “I’m just curious.”

  “No problem,” he said easily. “I figure I’ll need two years. The practice’ll be established, and I may even have enough business to take on a partner by then.”

  Two years, Rachel thought. If her biological clock hadn’t been ticking for some time now—and she’d been looking for a man—Turk Garrison would have been worth waiting for. And he was right. She was attracted to him. When he kissed her—

  Don’t go there, she told herself sternly. She was already thirty-five. She couldn’t wait until she was thirty-seven to start trying to get pregnant. And she couldn’t have an affair with the man just to get pregnant. Not when he and everyone else in town would know he was the father. From the little she knew about him, it was obvious that he was the kind of man who would do the right thing and push to marry the woman he got pregnant—even though that wasn’t what he’d planned for himself. She couldn’t set him up that way. It wouldn’t be fair.

  When they reached her house, she should have thanked him for a fun evening, then hurried inside. She definitely shouldn’t have swayed toward him when he smiled into her eyes as he traced the curve of her cheek. And when he pulled her into his arms and kissed her like there was no tomorrow, she should have at least tried to keep her head. She didn’t.