“Good thinking,” Rachel told her. “So Eric spent the night at your place and took care of you. Interesting.”
Jenna could hear the speculation in her friend’s voice at this piece of news. She was glad to be back on friendly terms with her two oldest and dearest friends, but she was still a bit wary in her dealings with them. Being trapped in the middle of their quarrel had been awkward, so she’d withdrawn from both of them.
Although they had apparently found their soul mates, Lily with Jake Stone and Rachel with Bryce Armstrong, Jenna was leery of speaking of men and relationships in case the specter of the ex-fiancé returned to haunt them.
“Poor man,” Jenna said again. “He was so anxious to be rid of me, he practically threatened to send me home in chains if I showed up in the E.R. this afternoon.”
“He’s probably afraid you’ll have the baby during an emergency,” Rachel said, laughing with her, “and he’ll have to deliver it.”
After they dissected and laughed over the incident once more, Rachel had to go. Jenna bade her goodbye and hung up.
The smile disappeared as she propped her feet on a hassock and mulled over the strange events of the past twelve or so hours. Everything was explainable until she came to the part about going to the clinic, having the sonogram and then, the kiss.
She thought of it in capital letters—THE KISS—like the title on a theater marquee. Running a finger over her lips, she wondered what had prompted his action.
Thinking of it caused her lips to tingle and burn as if an electric switch had been turned on. She put both hands over her face and groaned in dismay as she thought of her response. She’d returned the kiss with a passion that had matched his.
Had it been an impulse of the moment? Simply a reflection of her excitement and need to share the precious moment with someone? Or had it been the memory of his wife and a happier time between them?
Whatever had prompted the kiss on his part, she couldn’t deny that she had responded with wholehearted, unrestrained, wild and wanton passion.
He’d known it, too.
Who didn’t? The air in the examining room had sizzled as the kiss had deepened unbearably. Her heartbeat on the monitor had nearly gone off the scale while her blood pressure had zoomed twenty points on the high side.
The sonogram doctor and the technician had both laughed out loud, and that was the only thing that had brought her out of the whirling enchantment of his kiss.
She moaned in wretched humiliation. She didn’t want to return to her job. How could she ever face him in the E.R. and pretend nothing had happened?
Eric was aware of the sly glances cast his way by the staff in the E.R. He ignored them and signed off on the multitude of forms that accompanied any admission to the hospital.
Insurance. Medicare. City Services questionnaires in triplicate for those on welfare. As a newly fledged physician, he’d been impatient with the red tape, but after thirteen years, he’d gotten used to whipping through the forms and getting the job done without wasting energy on resentment and impatience.
Finished, he put the last piece of paper in the outgoing mail stack and the copies in the to-be-filed box on his desk.
Leaning back in the comfortable executive chair, he closed his eyes. Things were slow for a Saturday night. He’d rather be busy. The time went faster.
And he wouldn’t have to keep thinking about Jenna Cooper. Or how insane he’d been that morning.
Heat flushed through him like hot water from a tap. What had he been thinking? Where had his brain gone? Why had he given in to that crazy impulse?
He’d tried for hours to explain it, excuse it or at least make some sense of it. He couldn’t. It wasn’t like him. He wasn’t an impulsive sort. Yet it had happened.
He muttered a curse. “Go back to sleep,” he told his raging libido.
It ignored the command. His body was hard and demanding. He could taste her lips and feel their softness under his. She’d opened to him, and he had delved inside, taking the honey of her mouth in a kiss that went deeper with her than with any woman that he could recall.
He’d tried dating a couple of friends he’d known for years, one widowed like him, the other divorced. It hadn’t worked. He’d spent the night with the widow, but his heart hadn’t been in it. The morning after had been awkward. They both had admitted they weren’t ready for a new relationship at present.
He still wasn’t. He didn’t want the responsibility of another person’s happiness. He was preoccupied with his work. His steady in medical school had broken off with him because of inattention. His wife had accused him of forgetting she existed. That’s what their final quarrel had been about. He didn’t know how to please women—
The pager vibrated against his side. E.R. was calling. He’d planned to go home at four that afternoon, but here it was, after six, and he was still there. As usual.
He had to tell one of the nurses to help him with the scrub jacket and gloves before he could assist the duty doctor with the patient. Jenna would have had them ready when he walked into the E.R. cubicle.
“O.R.,” he said after checking the accident victim. “Who’s on duty in there? We need a neurosurgeon for this one,” he told the floor nurse while she checked the on-call roster. “Tell them to alert the resident, then call Dr. Morgan. He’s the best. This case is going to need it.”
For the next six hours, he assisted the specialist in the operation to save the sixteen-year-old. The boy hadn’t been wearing a seat belt and had been thrown from the pickup truck onto the pavement.
“Okay, that’s all we can do for now,” the neurosurgeon said. “We’ll have to treat the symptoms from here on and pray we can keep ahead of them. Are the parents here?”
“In the first waiting room,” one of the O.R. nurses said.
Eric and the surgeon exchanged glances. Dealing with relatives was one of the most difficult tasks for a doctor.
“I’ll go talk to them,” the surgeon said, his face drawn with fatigue.
Eric stripped the surgical garb off and washed up. Heading down the corridor, he saw it was midnight. He’d meant to go by Jenna’s one more time to be sure she was still feeling okay. She was an independent type and might not decide to call for help until it was too late if she had cramps or something.
Again the sensation of a giant hand squeezing his heart assailed him. He would never forget her face or her smile as they’d looked at the child growing inside her.
The glow…that’s what had made him kiss her. Her joy had been contagious. For a second, it seemed as if the child had been theirs. His and hers.
It wasn’t, and he’d better get his head screwed on straight before he saw her again. He drove home, the residential streets nearly deserted at this hour. His neighbors were safe in bed.
He parked in the garage and went into the silent house, remembering to punch in the burglar alarm code before it went off and summoned the police to his door. He’d done that once last year. The cops hadn’t appreciated it.
The house had been under construction two years ago when his wife and child had died. It was a home for a family, one with a big yard and lots of trees to climb and a creek running through the back edge of the property.
He’d moved into it because their smaller house had been sold, so he’d had to get out. Besides, there were no memories of either quarrels or laughter here.
After kicking off his shoes and leaving them in the laundry room between the garage and kitchen, he went to the refrigerator and reached for a beer. He hesitated, thought better of it and decided on a glass of milk instead.
Jenna would be proud of him, he thought wryly as he went into the den and flicked on the TV. He was still wound up after the grueling surgery. He’d catch one of the late-night shows or a movie. Those always put him to sleep.
An hour later, he strode out the patio doors to the pool, threw off his clothes and dove in. He swam twenty-five laps, climbed out, showered off in cold water and headed for bed. Thirty minutes la
ter, he was still awake.
He swore, but that didn’t help, either. He hadn’t had this problem since he’d been a teenager and hot for the lead cheerleader in the senior class.
The lack of control over his wayward body annoyed him. He believed in mind over matter, or whatever. Tonight nothing seemed to be listening to his mental orders.
At last he headed back for the shower. He was off tomorrow, but if he was called in on an emergency, he had to be alert and able to function at his best. He turned the cold water on full blast closed his eyes and reviewed his day. Slowly, thoughts of Jenna began to subside.
When he returned to the empty bed, he fell asleep in less than a minute.
Chapter 5
Jenna was watering the flower pots on the porch when she spotted a familiar vehicle pulling into a guest parking space. It was her rescuer. Or keeper, however one wanted to view the situation. He was coming to check on her, no doubt.
She put a curb on her tongue and smiled brightly at him when he came up the walkway and stopped at the bottom of the steps, his eyes checking her out. In the medical sense.
“Good morning,” she said.
He nodded. “How are you feeling?”
“Fine, actually. You were right. Staying off my feet yesterday helped a lot. Other than my shoulder, which I must have fallen on, I’m not achy this morning.”
“Did you sleep okay?”
“Yes. Did you?”
A wry smile flitted over his lips. “Yeah,” he said.
She set the empty watering can in its usual place behind the fig tree. “Uh, would you like a cup of coffee? Or breakfast? I can fix—”
“I’ve eaten. Coffee would be fine.”
“Have a seat,” she invited, gesturing to one of the two chairs on the porch.
“I’ll get it. You sit down.”
To her surprise, she did as ordered. It was rather nice to be taken care of. “I’m used to being the care-giver,” she told him when he brought out two steaming mugs, handed one to her and took the other patio chair.
His dark eyes went to her tummy. “You need to take care of yourself now. The baby will need a healthy mother.”
“I know. Usually I’m very careful. I was thinking of the sonogram and wondering about the baby’s gender. That’s why the boy on the skateboard took me by surprise.”
“I see,” he said.
He smiled again, and her heart thumped really hard. She tried not to stare at him. This morning, he wore tennis togs and looked good enough for an ad in GQ. His hair gleamed like finely polished ebony. He was tanned and muscular and incredibly handsome in white shorts and a yellow knit shirt.
The hum of sexual interest buzzed through her. She turned her gaze from him to the sweep of lawn that ran down to the duck pond. “Are you playing tennis this morning?”
“Yes. One of the surgeons and I try to get in a game once or twice a week.”
“That’s good,” she told him. “Most people don’t keep up an exercise program, then all of a sudden, they’re forty and overweight, their blood sugar is high and they’re in danger of diabetes and/or a heart attack. Then they wonder what happened to their youthful energy and health.”
He started laughing.
Jenna smiled self-consciously at her sermonizing—after all, he was a doctor—then she forgot it and was simply enchanted with the sound coming from him. He had the most wonderful laugh, low-toned and coming from deep in his chest, like the bass notes of an organ underscoring the higher notes of a melody, adding drama and a certain masculine beauty to the musical theme.
Their eyes met.
They were both silent as a thousand messages flashed between them. She saw hunger in those dark depths, hunger that matched her own. It was the oddest thing…and yet the most natural one in the world.
Her breasts beaded, and she had trouble breathing regularly. She saw him open his mouth and inhale slowly, fully. It was both comforting and exciting to know he was having the same problem that she was.
His gaze left her eyes and meandered down her throat, then lingered at her nipples, wantonly outlined against the soft blue knit top she wore. His eyes came back to hers.
“I have to go,” he said, standing. He put the nearly full coffee cup on the small table between their chairs. “I’ll be back around noon.”
“What for?” she asked, her eyes going wide as her imagination ran riot.
Again that sexy sweep of his eyes. “Lunch. What do you want me to bring for you?”
“Fried chicken, potato salad and baked beans,” she promptly answered. When he looked surprised, she added, “That’s my favorite meal. My mom used to fix it almost every Sunday for me and my dad.”
“Do your parents live around here?”
She shook her head. “My mother died of cancer a few years ago. My father retired last year and moved to Arizona where he can golf all year. He was a medical pathologist.”
“You’re an only child?”
She nodded. “I had a brother, two years younger, but he died when he was six. He was trying to ride my bike, but he lost control and went into the street in front of a car.”
He looked away from her and stared into the far distance as if seeing the tragedy unfold. She wished she hadn’t mentioned the accident.
“I felt terribly guilty about letting him try my bike, but my parents told me it wasn’t my fault. They said it was human nature to want to try new things, or else we would still be in the stone age.”
“Your parents were wise,” he said after a beat of silence. “Guilt for something like that would have been too great a burden for a child to carry through life.”
She observed the shadows that gathered in his eyes and hid his emotions. “Life happens,” she said softly, “to all of us.”
“Yeah,” he said on a harsh note and strode down the walk and to his car.
She stayed there for a long time after he left, thinking of life and guilt and grief. Eric needed a friend, she decided. He needed to open up and let his feelings out, or maybe put them behind him.
His unexpected laughter had been wonderful. She wanted to hear it again. After all, wasn’t it supposed to be the best medicine?
Eric parked in the guest slot he’d used earlier. He lifted the plastic bag from the seat and headed up the sidewalk to Jenna’s place. The front door was open when he stepped onto the porch.
“Come on in,” she called before he could knock.
His eyes slid over her in a visual caress he couldn’t suppress. Like him, she wore shorts and a knit top. Her legs were long and slender and shapely. Her ankles weren’t puffy as they had been Friday night, but then she’d been on her feet for ten straight hours at the hospital that day. Today, she was both refreshed and a refreshing sight.
“How did the game go?” she asked with a sunny smile.
“Beat the socks off me the first set, but I got him back on the next two,” he said, placing the bag on the kitchen counter. He’d stopped by his place to shower and change to fresh clothing after the hard-fought game.
One good thing—the exercise had cooled his libido somewhat. His glance went to her legs again. But not much, he amended as a surge of heat whipped through him.
He removed two containers of the requested food while she prepared tall icy glasses of tea.
“Lemon?” She held one up.
“Please.”
“I made a veggie platter. It’s in the refrigerator. Plates are in the cabinet to the right of the cups.”
He set the platter and plates on the table, then got forks, spoons and knives from the drawer where they were stored. She brought the iced-tea glasses.
She eyed the meal. “This looks delicious.”
After holding a chair for her, he took his place across the table. For some reason, sharing a meal was beginning to feel familiar. That, he warned himself, was not a good thing.
“Have you gained much weight during your pregnancy?” he asked, unable to come up with another topic.
/> She shook her head. “About seven pounds so far. I don’t want to put on too much. It may be too hard to take off.”
“I don’t think you have to worry.” He paused. “I find it amazing that you and your friends resorted to…”
“Artificial insemination,” she supplied when he didn’t continue the thought.
“Yes. Didn’t you know any men who would be happy to do the, uh, the…”
“Dastardly deed?” she suggested.
He was a doctor, for Pete’s sake. He didn’t know why he was having problems discussing the situation.
It didn’t seem to bother her. Those sky-blue eyes were alight with merriment, he observed. At his expense.
“Well, I thought of asking you since you were the only unattached male I knew who fit my requirements.”
An invisible hand stuck a sizzling hot poker right into his chest. He couldn’t breathe. Or think.
Images sprang full-blown into his mind. Him and her wrapped in a passionate embrace on that nice big bed upstairs, right over their heads. Kisses that burned clear down to the soles of his feet.
“What requirements?” he heard himself ask.
“Under forty, for one. Intelligent, for another.” She tilted her head slightly, her smile charming and sort of dreamy as she counted out the prerequisites.
“Good looks, but not necessarily movie-star hand some.”
Her eyes roamed his face in a teasing, but sincere manner.
“I’m flattered,” he said, putting a wry twist to the words. “Why didn’t you ask?”
“I was afraid you’d refuse. You don’t indulge in the party circuit, at least not that I know of. Also, you, uh, tend to take charge. I didn’t want you telling me every little thing I was doing wrong in raising the child.”
He had to smile. “So that’s what you think of me?” he demanded. “You think I’m bossy?”
“Well, if the surgical booties fit…”
“I get the picture.” He found himself relaxing as the conversation veered to the hospital and the staff. The sexual tension still hummed through his veins, but he no longer felt it was something he had to guard against every second while he was around her.
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