by Laurie Paige
He cursed silently and tried to imagine diving into a snowbank in the middle of winter. His libido reminded him it was spring and hot…damned hot…
She moved again, and he stepped back a few inches. She indicated her purse, clasped to her side. “When I heard you shout, I thought it was a mugger.” She laughed. “At least I still have my dowry.”
Her words didn’t make any sense. He gazed deeply into her eyes when she glanced at him over her shoulder. Was she hallucinating?
“A line from a play,” she explained. “Sweet Charity. Neil Simon. Her boyfriend ran off with her savings—”
“Come on,” he said, “let’s get you home.”
He locked her car door, then led her to his vehicle. After fastening her into the passenger seat, he got in the driver’s side and started the engine.
“My car—”
“Will be fine for the night,” he told her. “I’ll call the security chief at the hospital and tell him what happened. He’ll keep an eye on it.”
She nodded, sighed and leaned her head on the seat without further argument. He kept an eye on her after she closed her eyes and seemingly went to sleep.
“Which one’s yours?” he asked when they arrived at the residential complex. He’d recalled the place after she’d mentioned the street.
“Park in the next section,” she directed. “Slot 2A.”
He eased into the parking space and turned off the engine. “Stay put,” he ordered.
Going around the four-wheel-drive SUV, he helped her out and, holding her elbow, ushered her to the condo she pointed out. She kept stealing glances at him.
“What?” he finally asked, wondering if she’d caught the vibes of desire he was probably giving off with every step.
“I didn’t realize you were so chivalrous, doctor.”
“Eric,” he corrected.
“Eric,” she said softly.
The wind blew across the back of his neck just then, making the word feel like a verbal caress. Another wave of hunger washed over him. He set his jaw and helped her up the three steps to her front porch.
The outside light gleamed on her hair, turning it into a pale halo around her face. He’d never really noticed how pretty she was, not in any personal way, at any rate. Now he couldn’t seem to stop.
Her lips were full and well-defined as if they’d been chiseled by a master sculptor. Her eyes were deep, pure blue. Her hair was Nordic blond.
Viking blood. The image fit with the fantasy that was growing in his imagination.
Inhaling deeply, he managed to direct his mind to the practicalities of taking her key and opening the door, then flicking on the wall switch and seating her on the sofa before taking her purse, which she gave up without a struggle, and placing it on the coffee table.
“Lie down,” he said.
Her glance was plainly startled. “What for?”
“I, uh, need to examine you for bleeding or amniotic fluid seepage.”
“Oh.” She looked past him. “I can check,” she said.
He started to protest, then he realized she was embarrassed. That surprised him. After all, he was a doctor and quite used to looking at the human body.
But not hers. A strong surge of heat rioted through his blood at the thought. It had been a long time since he’d reacted this way to a woman. It was damned annoying.
Sitting beside her, he laid his hands on her abdomen. He watched her for signs of discomfort as he pressed along her sides. “Do you have pain anywhere? Any cramps in the lower back or abdomen? Does your head hurt? Your shoulder?”
She shook her head to each question.
“Follow my finger,” he ordered, unwilling to give up until he was sure she was okay.
She rolled her eyes in exasperation, then smiled in her usual sunny fashion and did as she was told. Her eyes stayed focused. She’d walked from the car to the condo without wobbling. She didn’t seem to be in pain.
“Where’s the bathroom?” he asked.
She nodded down the hallway. He helped her to her feet.
“I’ll walk you to the door,” he said in no uncertain terms when she tried to step away from him.
“Yes, sir, doctor, sir,” she said meekly.
He grinned. She was back to normal. Her insouciance was one of the things he liked about her. That, and her way with panicky patients, not to mention their relatives, in the Emergency Room. She was an excellent E.R. nurse.
Propped against the wall, he waited for her return. His stomach growled. He was hungry in more ways than one.
“How about a cup of hot chocolate?” he asked when she reappeared. “I’m expert at making it.”
She considered, then nodded. “The kitchen is that way.” She pointed down the short hallway.
A fact he’d already ascertained. A set of stairs led to the second floor, where he assumed the bedrooms were. “Let’s get you to bed, then I’ll bring it up to you.”
Again a quick glance from her before she started up the steps. There were three rooms upstairs, he found. Two were bedrooms and the other a home office with a nice desk and computer. He wondered what she used them for.
“In here.” She pointed to one of the bedrooms.
The room was painted with one of those faux finishes that looked like real plaster with a blue wash on it. The bed was made up with a blue and yellow floral coverlet and striped sheets that matched the drapes. Like her, it was pretty and compelling in its femininity.
He left her to get into her pajamas while he raided the kitchen and put in the call to hospital security. In less than ten minutes, he’d completed his task and was carrying a tray with two cups and a plate of cookies up the stairs.
Jenna was just pulling the sheet back when he entered the bedroom. Her nightgown was ankle length, but that didn’t stop him from seeing the shape of her legs, the sweet curve of her hips and rounded tummy or the thrust of her breasts against the cotton. The bedside lamp was behind her and displayed her charms in a mind-boggling silhouette.
He stopped at the foot of the bed as if his feet were suddenly glued to the floor. His mouth went dry. A pulse hammered in his temples, sending a deep bass kaboom-kaboom-kaboom throughout his whole body with each beat.
She glanced at him with a smile as she slipped into bed and pulled the top sheet over her legs. “That smells delicious,” she said. “You found the cookies. Good. I’m hungry. I’m always hungry,” she added on a lament.
He managed a smile although his face felt as if it was made from stiff plastic. After placing the tray across her lap, he took his cup and stepped back. Hooking a toe on a side chair next to the lamp table, he pulled it closer to the bed and took a seat.
She ate a cookie and was on the second one when she narrowed her eyes at him, apparently becoming aware that he wasn’t eating. She offered the plate to him.
He accepted one. While he ate, he noticed the roominess of the queen-size bed and dragged his gaze away with an effort. “Nice room,” he complimented her. “Very pleasant. I like the colors.”
“Men do. Blue is their universal favorite color.”
He wondered about the men who’d seen the room. Mmm, the rumor was that Jenna and her friends, also nurses, had all been artificially inseminated. Now why would a beautiful woman like her need to go to a clinic to get a baby?
Some part of him wondered if he would have volunteered for the job if she’d asked. The idea sent the blood whirling through his veins at warp speed.
She yawned when she’d finished the snack. “Now I’ve got to brush my teeth again,” she complained, but with a smile.
While he finished off the last two cookies, she went to the master bathroom. He heard the water come on and the sounds of her brushing and rinsing.
Memories interrupted the hard pound of hunger. His wife had been six months pregnant the last time he’d taken a shower with her, a few days before the stupid quarrel that had sent her from the house in a fury…and to her death.
He pressed th
e bridge of his nose as pain and guilt washed through him, then carefully forced the useless emotion at bay. Guilt would never bring her and their child back. They’d been expecting a girl—
“All done,” Jenna announced and returned to bed. “You must be exhausted. I’m fine, so you can go home.”
He shook his head. “I’ll stick around for a while.”
She studied him for a moment, then shrugged and slipped down in the bed and tucked the sheet under her arms. When he carried the tray and used dishes out, she flicked off the light. He heard her sigh as if weariness had overtaken her.
In the kitchen, he rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher while he considered what to do. He couldn’t leave, not yet. Jenna might go into labor or something during the night. The kid must have hit her pretty hard in the stomach to cause her to lose her breath.
Going into the living room, he made a decision. The sofa looked comfortable enough. He could sleep there as well as at the empty house where he lived.
Hmm, there was a guest bedroom upstairs. He’d be closer to Jenna… He thought of her and the queen-size bed. On second thought, it was better to stay down here, farther from temptation but close enough to hear if she needed help.
He kicked off his shoes and stretched out. The sofa was about two inches too short. He turned onto his side and let his feet hang off the edge. The bed upstairs would be long enough for him and a companion, too.
His body hardened again at the thought. He frowned and wondered what the hell was the matter with him tonight. The situation called for the skills of a doctor, not those of a lover. He sighed wearily.
He hadn’t expected the passion.
CHAPTER 3
Jenna woke shortly after six. A groan escaped her when she tried to move. She’d never been so sore and stiff in her life. Carefully assessing her aches and pains, she rose from the bed and toddled into the bathroom.
All parts present and accounted for. Including the baby. She patted her tummy and smiled, then decided to get dressed and have breakfast. This morning she would have her five-month sonogram and maybe find out if her child was to be a girl or a boy.
After a quick shower, she blow-dried her hair, put it up in a ponytail and pulled on her first pair of maternity slacks and the matching top, both in perky blue with flowers embroidered across the front. She’d bought three outfits on sale two days ago.
She checked herself in the mirror on the bathroom door. Really, she didn’t look preggie at all. She smoothed the top over her tummy. Well, maybe in the side view she did.
Grinning, she slipped on her favorite sandals and gingerly went down the steps, holding the railing and trying not to groan each time she shifted her weight.
At the bottom of the steps, she halted as a shock of recognition sped through her. On her sofa, sound asleep, lay her Good Samaritan.
Crossing the carpet soundlessly, she tiptoed to the kitchen and put on a pot of coffee. Getting bacon from the freezer, she cooked several slices in the microwave oven.
Thank goodness the aroma no longer sent her rushing to the bathroom, a hand clutched over her mouth. She scrambled eggs and put bread in the toaster.
“Good morning,” a deep masculine voice spoke behind her.
She gasped and whirled, then grabbed the counter as the room spun ominously. Hands clasped her upper arms and steadied her.
“Sorry,” he said. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Laying her palms on his chest, she said, “That’s okay. I’m not used to having another person around, especially first thing in the morning.”
His dark gaze went to her stomach. Several unexpected flutters went through her.
“When the little one comes, I guess I’d better get used to it, huh?” she quipped. “Breakfast is almost ready. Coffee cups are, oh, but you know where they are.”
“Yes.”
When he moved away from her, she breathed in relief. His nearness did things to her…like frazzling her nerves and making her act stupidly.
She’d always thought he was an attractive man, but he’d also been married. She’d met his wife at parties and hospital fund-raisers and dedications to those who contributed generously. He’d had eyes for no one but her.
Just the way it should be, Jenna acknowledged, feeling a tiny bit of envy for women who had such good fortune.
Her own luck in the happily-ever-after department hadn’t been so great. During high school and college, she’d thought herself in love two or three times, but the longer she’d known the guys, the less she’d found to like about them.
Deciding she was too quick to take the other person at face value, she’d become more critical of her own feelings and attraction toward the opposite sex. She’d learned to deal with men on a logical, unemotional level and be wary of instant attractions.
Mmm, what was she to make of the tug she felt toward this man? It certainly wasn’t instant…well, she had instinctively liked him from the first. They worked together like two halves of a whole, hardly needing to speak. The more she knew of him, the more she liked and admired him.
And he was undeniably good-looking.
She kept her smile to herself at this last thought. Physically, she found him quite compelling. The stray thought had once crossed her mind to ask him if he would father a child with her—
No! That was just too ridiculous, not to mention the complications that would arise, given that they worked together and also that he wasn’t the type to sire a child and not take part in its raising.
While he poured a cup of coffee, she took up the eggs on two plates, buttered the toast and set the food on the table in the breakfast nook. She adjusted the blinds so they could see the duck pond and tennis courts without the sun glaring in their eyes.
“Nice,” he said, taking his seat. “How do you feel this morning?”
“Fine. As long as I don’t move.”
He studied her for a long minute. “You should take tonight off. Better yet, a week. Stay off your feet while you work the kinks out.”
“Is that an order, doctor?”
“A mere suggestion. I’ve noticed you do whatever suits you in most cases.”
She couldn’t decide if she’d been insulted or not. “Are you implying I’m willful?”
He laid a hand over his heart. “Never,” he vowed in the dry tone that passed for humor with him.
Their eyes met and they both smiled at the same instant. Her nerves went all fluttery again. “Better not smile too often around me,” she told him. “It does weird things to my insides.”
His gaze zeroed in on her like a hunter sighting prey. “Don’t get any ideas,” he warned, then added grimly, “I’ve got enough of those for both of us.”
She was so startled and intrigued by his confession, she couldn’t think of a comeback. “Well,” she finally murmured and concentrated on scooping a bite of egg on her fork. “Well.”
“Yeah, a deep subject.”
He sounded so dismal and looked so forbidding, she thought better of pursuing the conversation, no matter how intriguing it might be. They finished the meal in silence.
She heard a thump outside. “The newspaper has arrived. I’ll get it—oh!” She couldn’t help the exclamation as she started to rise. Pain laced through muscles she didn’t know she’d had before this morning.
“Sit still,” he ordered. “I’ll get it.”
He took over and soon she was reading the headlines of the paper and enjoying a fresh cup of coffee while her guest put the dishes away and straightened the kitchen.
“This is nice,” she told him when he joined her again.
Glancing up from the sports section, he asked, “What are your plans for the day?”
“I go for a sonogram at nine. I’m so excited. I hope we can see whether the baby is a boy or girl.”
“You prefer to know which it is?”
“Yes. Did you and your wife know—” She broke off, but it was too late to take back the words. “I’m sorry
. I didn’t mean…it’s none of my…I didn’t mean to bring up painful memories.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
But it did. She’d seen the flash of agony in his eyes and felt dreadful about it. Her and her smart mouth. It was time she learned to think before she spoke.
“I need to go home for a change of clothes,” he continued. “I’ll swing back by here at eight-thirty and pick you up.”
She tried to figure this out. “Why?”
“To take you to your appointment.”
“Oh, you don’t have to do that. I can drive. Really,” she added at his skeptical snort. “As soon as I get my car—”
“It’s too dangerous. Your reaction time will be slower while you recover. Take next week off,” he ordered. “Keep your feet elevated. Your ankles looked swollen last night.”
He’d noticed her ankles? She tried to figure out when. One thing for sure—things were getting very interesting.
Cool it, she advised her overactive libido. Since becoming pregnant, her whole body seemed to be much more sensitive to fine nuances.
Or—were the funny sensations caused by proximity to the man across the table, who resembled a wooden totem at the moment? His confession to having ideas about them wasn’t the type of thing a woman could easily forget.
Sympathy stirred in her breast. He still felt guilty over his wife’s death. He needed to get past that. After all, it took two to have a fight, and his wife had made the decision to rush out in a huff and drive off…
Mmm, maybe that was the reason he was worried about her driving. He didn’t want anything bad to happen to her and the baby. Put in that light, she couldn’t refuse.
“That’s very kind of you,” she said sweetly.
He cocked one sardonic eyebrow while studying her as if she were a new bacterium he’d just discovered. “Don’t go mushy on me,” he advised. “It isn’t your way.”
Annoyed, she ignored him until he got up to leave. “Lock the door on your way out,” she said and kept her nose buried in the paper. She barely nodded at his grunt of assent as he left.