The Prodigal M.D. Returns

by Marie Ferrarella

  "Joe?" She laughed softly, shaking her head. The earth had never moved for her with him. Her pulse hadn't even rushed. Not once. Not even when she willed it. "No. Joe was a very sweet, kind man who just came along at the right time."

  She had completely lost him. "The right time?"

  Heather pressed her lips together. She was very close to telling him the truth. To saying that she'd suddenly found herself pregnant and had been desperate, just when Joe had made his feelings for her known. The words, the admission, hovered on her tongue.

  "I needed a knight in shining armor. He was a miner covered in coal dust, but his heart was in the right place."

  Ben looked at her for a long moment. "Why did you need a knight in shining armor, Heather?"

  No, she couldn't do it. Couldn't tell him and see anger or, worse, pity in his eyes. Hannah was her secret and would remain that way.

  She sighed. "I just did, that's all." Summoning a wide smile, she changed subjects. "So, I hear that you just moved into the Logan place. How's that going for you?"

  Shayne had been surprised when Ben had told him about buying the old place. But he needed to be on his own. Needed to be something other than the little brother. This was a step in the right direction, even if it represented a hell of an undertaking.

  "Needs a lot of work. A lot of cleaning," he told her, leaning back against his car. Joshua Logan had moved his family to Utah and left the house in the hands of a realty company domiciled in Anchorage. The man who ran the general store doubled as a real estate agent, and he had set the paperwork in motion for him. The place had become officially his as of yesterday. "Place hasn't been lived in for five years—except for a family of squirrels."

  "Better that than a family of bears." They were not without their wild animals in this part of the state. More than once, bears, deer and moose had wandered into town, looking for food.

  He nodded. Impulse nudged him, but he debated a couple of seconds before finally asking, "Would you like to see it?"

  The question caught her by surprise. Stalling for time, she smiled. "What? The family of squirrels or the dust?"

  "The squirrels moved out, and the dust situation is getting under control. Sydney and the kids came by yesterday while I was at the clinic, got a good start making the place a real home." Shayne had turned out to be one lucky man, he thought. Sydney was a very special lady. But then, so was Heather.

  He brushed a hair back from her face, fighting the urge to kiss her. Knowing if he did, he'd have an audience. People would come pouring out of the Salty to watch. "I thought I might ask your opinion about some things."

  It was a bad idea; she knew that. She should just tell him to take her home and that she'd accept a rain check.

  Still she heard herself saying, "All right."

  He smiled as he opened the passenger door for her.

  * * *

  The Logan place wasn't far from the lake. Sitting beside Ben as she traveled, she sifted through a host of memories. Memories she both welcomed and tried to keep at bay. They made her feel vulnerable.

  Unlike many of the structures around town, the Logan place was more cabin than house. The whole scene was very rustic, with the trees flanking the cabin and the lake at its back.

  After getting out of the truck, Heather walked up to the front door and turned the knob, only to find that it wouldn't give. She looked over her shoulder at Ben, a silent query in her eyes. For the most part, the doors in Hades remained unlocked.

  "Habit I got into in Seattle," he confessed. It took him a second to find the right keys. He unlocked the door, then pushed it open so she could enter first. "Not that I have anything worth taking," he commented. There was a light switch right by the door. He tried it, as he had the night before, but nothing happened. "Looks like they still haven't gotten around to turning on the electricity."

  He'd asked to have it turned on when he'd signed the papers that began the process of making the property his. But things in Hades moved at their own pace. No one was in a hurry.

  Leaving the door open, he used the moonlight to illuminate the room and guide him to the table. A hurricane lamp sat in the center. Ben lit it and then stood back. The light cast was minimal, but intimate.

  He smiled as he turned around to look at Heather. "I guess you can get a better idea in the daytime."

  "Not necessarily." Wrapping her hands around her forearms, Heather slowly looked around, taking measure of the surroundings. His whole existence seemed crowded into the one front room. There was a fireplace to one side and a bed directly opposite. Several partially open boxes lined the walls. "It's deceptive." She turned around to face him. "Seems smaller from outside."

  Seemed pretty small on the inside to him, he thought. But he was pleased that she seemed to like it. "I think ultimately I might need more room, but for now this'll do."

  He was talking about moving. She was thinking about it in terms of expanding.

  "You could always add on," she suggested. "I hear Kevin Quintano is pretty handy when it comes to building things." Lily had told her about the nursery her brother had built for her and the one he was still working on for June. She had a feeling that if the woman's older brother had been lacking in skills, Lily would have added that into the story. "And there's always George."

  "Mayfield?" he asked and she nodded. "Is he still around?" George Mayfield had been the town handyman when he was a kid, Ben recalled. The man had a love affair with wood. "I haven't seen him since I got back. Didn't see him tonight."

  "He was there," she assured him. Humor played along her lips. "But then, you might have missed seeing him because your vision was obstructed for most of the evening."

  He gazed at her. Feelings he had been dealing with all evening began coming to the fore. "Yes, I know."

  She shook her head. "Nothing's changed. You still have hot-and-cold-running women coming your way."

  "Oh." It suddenly dawned on him what she was referring to. "I wasn't thinking about the people who stopped by."

  Women, she thought. The women who had stopped by. It seemed to her as if every female in Hades had come by his table to talk to him, at least for a few moments. "Then what were you thinking of?"

  He would have thought that was rather obvious. "You."

  Heather stared at him, floored. Was he teasing her? "Me?"

  "Yes. You're the one who was blocking my vision all night." And she was the one who was filling it now, just with her presence. Ben could feel desire stirring within him.

  She held her hands out as if to display herself. "I tip the scales at one-fourteen."

  "Figuratively," he told her, his mouth curving. "You were blocking my vision figurative." She hadn't been the prettiest woman there tonight. And certainly not the most aggressive. And yet all he could think about was Heather. "Because all I saw tonight was you."

  "Even with Margaret Taylor's augmented breasts in your face?"

  The young woman, who had made no secret of the fact that she was more than a little pleased that Ben was back and that she intended to land him for herself this time, had been a repeat visitor to the table. She was dressed in a black T-shirt and matching jeans that someone had painted on her and had tried her damnedest to draw Ben away from the table. Margaret would have been thrilled to death to be here with him like this.

  As if I'm not.

  That was just the trouble. She was. She was thrilled to be here, thrilled to be anywhere with him. Anticipation and hope elevated her heart rate. Telling herself to get a grip fell on deaf ears.

  "Even then. Actually," he deadpanned, "I never noticed they were augmented."

  "Then, doctor, I suggest you get an eye exam and have yourself fitted for glasses immediately because bats see better than you do."

  Crossing to the door, he closed it. "Maybe the sight never registered because I had something better to look at."

  The soft click the door made echoed throughout her body. She was aware of everything, of the very air around her,
and warmth as adrenaline surged through her veins.

  "Smooth as ever," she murmured for a second time that evening. Her mouth curved as she remembered his comment. "What kind of snake oil would you like to sell me?"

  Somehow, the distance between them had disappeared. He wasn't at the door any longer but right beside her. Blocking out everything else.

  "Nothing," he answered, combing his fingers through her hair. Framing her face. "I don't want to sell you anything. But I would like to kiss you."

  "Are you asking my permission?" She was surprised she could talk, since her heart had just leaped into her throat.

  The smile on his lips went straight to that lodged heart. "Something like that."

  She took a breath, afraid of suffocating if she didn't. "You have changed."

  When Lila had walked out on him, he didn't think that he could ever feel again, ever allow himself to feel again. Now he realized that "allowing" had nothing to do with it. Things evolved without permission. And all he could do was hang on for the ride and hope not to crash and burn at the end.

  This woman from his past was doing things to him that he wouldn't have dreamed possible. "For the better, I'd like to think."

  "That would be trying to improve on perfection."

  She had never struck him as being sarcastic, yet he couldn't see how she could seriously utter the comment. But Heather wasn't the type to offer empty flattery, either. She was as different from Lila as sunlight was from artificial lighting.

  "So far from perfection that I can't even find my way back," he told her softly.

  All sorts of delicious things happened inside of her. And everything felt as if it was holding its breath. Waiting. "Try."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  Ben lowered his mouth to hers.

  At first, it felt like slow motion. As if the fire taking hold of her, spreading to all her limbs, progressed an inch at a time, taking her prisoner.

  Who was she kidding? She was already a prisoner, capitulating the second he had touched her, never mind kissed her. Heather could feel her head spinning, could feel the darkened room fading away. There was nothing and no one but him.

  She'd been waiting for this, waiting ever since Ben had kissed her on her doorstep. Her body primed, recalling another evening, by the lake. When she had given him her virginity and he had given her the dreams that saw her through to this day.

  That, and Hannah.

  And now they were back at the lake. Back to the same magical time. Yes, she'd grown, yes, she had two children, but the need that had been there then still lived within her.

  It escalated, demanding attention. Demanding release. Heather wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing her body against his.

  Bringing her soul to him, as well.

  The kiss deepened, fueled by a hunger she hadn't realized she had. A hunger that had never once come close to being sated the times that she and Joe had made love. With Joe lovemaking had always been a pleasant experience, but the earth remained where it was, and, if it had been necessary, she could have easily done long division in her head. She never lost sight of where she was or who she was. Not even once.

  It was different with Ben.

  With Ben, just kissing him made the room burn away in layers, leaving her free-falling in space, where there was no beginning, no end. Only exhilaration.

  As she felt herself being consumed with desire, as passions beat wild, filmy wings within her, she didn't want things progressing in slow motion anymore. Didn't want to languidly take her time, to enjoy every scrap like some newfound treasure. She wanted the shooting stars, the wildness. She wanted it all.

  Her body sang as it gave itself up to the grasp of passion.

  He realized this was like his first time with her. Like trying to hold a shooting star in his hand. She made his blood surge, made him want to ravage her, to pleasure her, to be the best that he could. He wanted to be all things for her, with her.

  The force of the kiss overwhelmed him, urging him to move forward until suddenly he had her against the wall, trapped between it and his body. Every part of him filled with anticipation as the soft contours of her body pressed against his, forming almost a seal.

  A hunger came out of nowhere, exploding within him not by increments but by a geometric progression. One moment it was a speck, the next, it filled all of him. He ran his hands over her curves, remembering the last time. Wanting her.

  Heather moaned against his mouth. It was all he needed. He felt the temperature of his blood rise another ten degrees.

  Clothes began to disappear, as did judgment.

  Led by instincts and needs, they made their way to the bed against the wall. Whether he took her or she him, he didn't know, didn't care. All he knew was that they were lying there together and that he could more easily familiarize himself with every single inch of her.

  Desire drummed impatient fingers, demanding release. It was all he could do to hang on a little longer. Because he wanted to take in the taste of her. To lose himself in the softness, the scent, the passion of her.

  The way he had the first time.

  Her figure was rounder, more supple, and yet still as delicate as it had been then. She was a woman now, a woman who had given birth to two children, and yet, her body was firm, soft, inviting. Giving. His hands swept over every contour even as his mouth sampled, tasted, suckled, in an attempt to get his fill of her.

  It seemed like a hopeless task.

  Heather twisted and turned into his touch, glorying in the way his clever fingers ignited her inner fire. He made her body sing. He made her body want.

  He was making her crazy.

  Lightning kept shooting through her veins, as if each area he touched exploded in bouquets of ecstasy. One after the other, climaxes rattled through her body. Every movement of his hand brought forth more. She couldn't get enough, even as she gasped for breath, exhausted and insatiable at the same time. Fearful that it would end just as abruptly as it had begun.

  Fearful that she would never feel this way again.

  She had no doubt that this was an isolated incident and that there would be no repeat event tomorrow or the day after that or the day after that. He was going with the moment. Tomorrow, someone else would be in his arms. Someone prettier, more desirable, someone who had more to give.

  But never someone who loved him more than she did.

  Even now, living in the moment, she could feel an ache forming in her heart.

  Heather banished it. She needed to enjoy this, to savor this, to commit it to memory the way she had the first time. Because she could go for years on a single memory; she'd already proven that to herself. Each time she lay beside Joe, it was Ben she remembered. Ben she summoned to mind.

  Ben she made love with, not Joe. She supposed that made her guilty of adultery in her heart. Because she loved a phantom lover who was never there.

  But he was now.

  When he had done all he could, held himself back as long as he was humanly able, Ben gathered her to him. With his knee, he spread her legs beneath him and then slipped into her. The gasp of pleasure echoed in his head. The swell of her breasts against his chest as Heather took in a deep breath ignited him, and the rhythm began. He kept it going as long as he could, accelerating it ever faster until finally he was swept over the top.

  Taking her with him.

  The descent occurred without his noticing it. He was too aware of the sensation of holding her to him. Too aware of holding on to the moment.

  Chapter Twelve

  The hurricane lamp on the table sent out dark-gold glows of light that cast their shadows on the wall, melding their two forms together as closely as they had been moments earlier.

  Ben kissed the top of her head, reluctant to release her. Reluctant to release the moment. For the first time in a very long time he felt at peace. As if he belonged.

  Funny how life kept not turning out the way you planned. He smiled to himself. "I really didn't have this in mind whe
n I invited you over, you know," he said, his words gently ruffling her hair.

  Heather's eyes danced as she looked at him. "Yeah, you did."

  Ben sifted a strand of her hair through his fingers, thinking how silky it felt. How silky she felt. And how much he wanted her again.

  "Maybe, just a little."

  And I wanted you a lot. But that's the way it always was. She made the most of it.

  "It's okay." Drawing away from him, she sat up on the bed, ready to rise. She did her best to sound blasé. There had to have been scads of women in his life back in Seattle. "So, I'll meet you at the lake seven years from now."

  The statement was a little too glib for him. This wasn't Heather. This wasn't the woman he'd just made love with.

  Catching her wrist, Ben pulled her back to him. "How about now?"

  She tumbled back onto the bed and stared at him. "Now?"

  "Yes." His smile pulled her in. "What are you doing now?"

  Loving you. Heather nodded toward the scattered clothing a few feet away on the floor. "I was about to get dressed."

  He did his best to look as if he was seriously considering her words. "You sure you want to do that? I'd only have to undress you again."

  He wanted her again. Heather allowed her body to relax. Allowed herself to enjoy the moment. For whatever reason, there'd been a stay of execution. The bubble hadn't burst yet, and she'd been given a little more time to enjoy him.

  She lay down next to him. "Exactly what did you have in mind?"

  Ben grinned as he felt his body heating. Hardening. Felt a rush beginning within him all over again. "I'll think of something."

  It wasn't difficult, he mused, slipping his arms around her again. Not when all his thoughts began and ended with Heather. The light from the hurricane lamp melded their shadows together again.

  * * *

  The throng of patients that showed up daily at the clinic had thinned down somewhat. People had stopped coming by because they were curious to see if the stories about Ben's return were true. The eligible female population of Hades had, for the most part, ceased to make up nonexistent ailments in order to snag a few private moments with the good-looking and only unattached doctor in the area. Their attendance had dropped off when they discovered that they had to endure a long wait for only five minutes of professional time.