The Family Doctor

by Bobby Hutchinson

Only your heart, idiot. Kate already had feelings for him that went beyond simple lust. She’d have to work with him afterward, probably for a very long time. Neither of them was planning on retiring anytime soon. She’d see him every day, she’d have to hide her feelings from him, she’d have to constantly pretend. She’d have to lie, and she hated lying.

  If only he was a stranger. If only he wasn’t, technically at least, her boss. She wanted to tell him it wasn’t false morality or lack of wanting that made her pull away gently and give her head a negative shake, but she didn’t trust her voice.

  He got it. He sighed, put his forehead against hers for a moment, and then stepped reluctantly back.

  “’Night, Kate.”

  “’Night, Tony.” She felt as if she was choking. “Thank you for a great evening.”

  “Want to go for a long walk in the morning down by the river?”

  “Absolutely.” Not. She knew exactly what she’d love to do with him in the morning, but it was too late. She’d burned her bridges.

  “See you at six, then.”

  “Six. Right.” She gave him a peppy smile, and when the door closed behind her, she slumped to the carpet, beat her fists and wondered if there were rules against screaming after midnight.

  What was wrong with her head? Instead of sleeping in his arms, she’d be dragging her backside out of bed before dawn just to go for a walk. Instead of finding out whether or not his kissing ability extended beyond her mouth and neck, she’d be cuddling a lousy pillow that had been sanitized for her protection.

  Idiot. She got to her feet and stripped her clothes off. What a waste, the black lace thong and garter belt, the lace-top stockings.

  Kate spent the whole restless night wondering why she’d been such a fool, and vowing that if the opportunity came again, she’d jump his bones.

  Anywhere, anytime. Well, maybe not on the walk first thing in the morning. It was already the middle of the night, and she’d probably only get to sleep half an hour before she had to get up. She wouldn’t have energy for anything except putting one reluctant foot in front of the other.

  Tomorrow night, though. If he didn’t make a move on her again, she’d take matters into her own hands tomorrow night. Figuratively speaking, of course. Well, maybe not so figuratively. She thought of his long, lean body and groaned aloud.

  TONY KICKED OFF HIS SHOES in disgust. It had been a stupid, idiotic thing to do, taking her to the jazz club. He hadn’t thought of Sandy in a long time, hadn’t dreamed she’d be singing with that particular band, here in Edmonton, of all places.

  He sent his shoes skittering across the rug and tugged off his suit coat and vest. If only he had the evening to do over again, he thought, throwing himself down on the bed. Meeting Sandy had brought up stuff that wasn’t exactly romantic. Now all his fantasies about making love to Kate and staying in bed with her all morning and ordering champagne from room service were just that—fantasies.

  Lucky thing he’d packed a mystery novel. He dug it out, but soon found that serial murder was cold comfort in the king-size bed.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  IT WAS BARELY DAWN. The sun was a red bulge on the edge of the prairie.

  “This is how we get to the walking path?” Kate looked at the wooden steps that led down to the river winding peacefully along the valley floor. Her heart sank, and she couldn’t force herself to sound enthusiastic. “Omigod, there must be a hundred of them.” She couldn’t keep the hopeful note out of her voice. “Are you sure your ankle’s strong enough?”

  She prayed that he’d say it wasn’t. She longed to crawl back into the warmth and comfort of her bed and snooze away the next two hours. And even in its sleep-deprived state, her brain reasoned that what went down would have to come up again. Would her exhausted body survive climbing this stair mountain again? Was there taxi service back up?

  “Best thing for my ankle,” Tony declared, barely leaning on the railing as he started down. “And just out of curiosity, I asked at the desk—there’s a hundred and twenty-four steps down to the water.”

  He’d already conquered twelve.

  “Just going down and then coming back up is great exercise,” he declared. “C’mon, that sun’s going to be up in a few minutes, we’ll get a fantastic view from the rest area down there.”

  She had a choice, Kate reminded herself. One always had a choice.

  She could confess that she’d been lying all along, that she wasn’t really a jock at all, and her idea of exercise at this hour involved raising her head from a goose-down pillow to squint at the clock.

  If she did that, he’d go walking by himself. She’d miss out on two hours of his company, during which she planned to wangle another dinner invitation, after which she hoped to maneuver him into her room and into a prone position. She had only one night left to do it; they were booked out on a plane early Sunday morning.

  There was no way around it. To get to dinner from here she had to go down. Summoning up every reserve in her reluctant body, she put one foot in front of the other.

  “YOU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME you had a trick knee.” Tony was puffing hard, and she could feel the sweat dampening the arm he had firmly locked around her waist. They negotiated another step, and another.

  Kate leaned on him, heart hammering as they finally reached the top and staggered through the side entrance of the hotel. Was it the painful climb back up the steps, or was it being clamped against his side that made every pulse in her body flutter?

  Whatever, she wasn’t feeling at all disheartened, even though her right knee was on fire. Truth was, she welcomed the pain. Now she had a legitimate sports injury that was going to necessitate taking it easy for the rest of the day, thanks be to the god of sloth.

  “I’d forgotten about that knee. It hasn’t bothered me for years.” She tried not to sound cheerful. Truth was, she’d avoided anything that might aggravate it, like exercise, ever since the time in high school when that manic phys ed teacher had forced the class to climb rope ladders up to the ceiling of the gym. And there weren’t half as many steps on the rope ladder as there were leading down to that cursed river, either.

  “I had no idea those steps would irritate it.”

  “Let’s get you up to your room and have a look at it. I’ll call housekeeping to bring some ice.”

  God, he was strong. His arm was like an iron vise around her waist, and even with his weakened ankle he had no problem supporting her.

  They got on the elevator, and he kept his arm where it was. She leaned into him and sniffed in the wonderful heady aroma of male sweat. Why hadn’t anyone thought to bottle it? Although not just any male sweat would do, she suspected; she’d breathed in plenty during her years as a nurse, and none till now had done the trick.

  They looked so good together. The mirror reflected the two of them, both in shorts and tank tops, trainers and sweatbands. Her hair was mussed, his chin had more than a faint shadow of beard.

  The bell dinged and she yelped when she tried to step off the elevator. He half carried her down the hall.

  “Where’s your room card?”

  “I put it in my shoe so I wouldn’t lose it. Oww.” She attempted to bend her knee and reach her foot, but the knee wasn’t cooperating.

  “I’ll get it. Which foot?”

  “Right.”

  “Okay. Just stand on one foot like this.” He propped her against the corridor wall and knelt in front of her, undoing her shoe.

  She looked down at the top of his head, admiring the way his hair swirled in a double crown. He eased her foot out of her shoe and she prayed that her foot didn’t stink. The trainers were the new ones she’d bought to go walking with him, but she’d sweated into them.

  He retrieved the key card, picked up her shoe, slid the card into the door and smoothly drew her inside, guiding her over to the unmade bed and easing her down.

  “Oww.” Her knee hurt like fury when she bent it.

  “Slide back on the bed, we’ll e
levate it.”

  She did, and he unlaced her other shoe and pulled it off, then stuck several pillows under her leg. Although she’d had her share of fantasies about Tony in her bed, they’d involved areas other than her knee. She was pleased to see that the short peach satin nightgown she’d worn last night had attracted his attention. She’d tossed it onto the end of the bed, and from the long look he was giving it, she hoped he was imagining it on her body.

  This was good, Kate mused. It was delicious to lie flat on her back and watch him fantasize.

  Clearing his throat, he picked up the phone and asked for ice to be delivered, then hung up and said to Kate in a professional tone, “You should have X rays done when we get back to St. Joe’s. It might help to find out exactly what the problem is.”

  “This from the same man who slipped on a wrapper and ended up on a respirator?” Kate was thoroughly enjoying having him fuss over her.

  He gave her a wry look. “I have it on good authority that that fiasco was a series of mistakes and won’t happen again. The system is improved.”

  A knock on the door signaled the ice had arrived. Tony thanked the lady from housekeeping, filled a plastic laundry bag from the closet and put it across her knee.

  “Yikes, that’s freezing.” She shivered and grabbed for a blanket, tugging it over her upper body. “How about ordering a pot of coffee from room service? In fact, why not order breakfast?”

  “Good idea.” He found the room service menu on the dresser and handed it to her. “What would you like?”

  You’d do. She gave him what she hoped was a provocative look and then studied the menu. “Hash browns, eggs, fruit. Toast. How about you?”

  “The same, with bacon.”

  She tossed the menu on the bed. Once again, he picked up the phone and placed their order.

  “This is dripping.” It wasn’t, but the ice was creating more pain than the knee injury itself. She reached down and took the bag off.

  “Here, let me put it in the sink.” He did, and then he said without quite meeting her eyes, “Do you think massage might help?”

  She swallowed. Finally, maybe, he was getting the message. “I’m not sure,” she said in a breathy tone. “Why not try it and I’ll see?” Why hadn’t she thought of this before? She tossed the blanket to one side.

  Once he’d taken off his shoes, he knelt on the bed beside her. His runner’s legs were corded with muscle, and she wondered what he had on under the rugby shorts he wore. Probably nothing. Those things had liners, didn’t they? She gulped. His large hands began to rub back and forth across her knee.

  “Your skin is freezing.”

  Maybe outside. Inside, she was burning up.

  “Ooh,” she moaned. “That feels so good.” His hands felt hot. His fingers were strong, and he applied just the right amount of pressure, stroking back and forth gently and rhythmically. “Don’t stop.”

  “Where’s it hurting the most?”

  Not in her knee anymore, but farther up. And it wasn’t exactly a hurt. It was more like a fiery ache.

  She managed to croak, “Right there, where you’re rubbing, that’s perfect.”

  There was a huge bulge developing at the front of his running shorts that assured her she wasn’t alone in what she was feeling. Their eyes locked, and his fingers slowed and became still. Then, tentatively, and lightly, he touched the skin on the inner side of her thigh, and Kate melted. She took his hand, guiding it up to her breast.

  “Tony, I’m sorry about last night,” she whispered. “I was scared, but I’m not anymore.”

  The wordless sound he made was one of profound relief. He bent over and kissed her, hard and fast, and then slower, more thoroughly. He stretched out beside her. “I was so hungry for you last night I couldn’t sleep.”

  “Me, neither.”

  “You’re sure you’re okay with this now? You won’t be sorry afterward?”

  How could she know that? All she could think of was how much she wanted him right at this moment. She whipped her head from side to side. “No. At least, I don’t think so. No. I’m sure.”

  He leaned over her, and this time his kiss was slow and deep, his lips learning everything there was to know about her mouth. At the same time, his hand traveled from her throat to her collarbone, over to her shoulders, down her arms, and when she wriggled impatiently, finally he cupped her breast.

  “Mmm, I like that.” Like was such a feeble word for what she was feeling, but vocabulary was the last thing on her mind.

  “How about this?” He gently tweaked her nipple, and she moaned. She had far too many clothes on, and so did he. Reaching for the bottom of his shirt, she lifted the garment in one neat motion over his head and off. There were distinct advantages to having been a nurse.

  He had a mat of soft brown curls on his chest, and she wanted to bury her nose in them. But first she needed to get her own clothing off as well. She tried to sit up, but her propped knee threw her off balance.

  “Let me.” In two easy movements, he had her T-shirt off and her bra undone. There were distinct advantages to him being a doctor. He stood up for a moment and she watched him effortlessly slide off his shorts and abbreviated black underwear.

  “Wow.” His erection was magnificent, and she admired it. “You’re impressive.”

  “And you’re beautiful.” He was tugging carefully at her shorts and panties, easing them over her sore knee and down her legs, then tossing them to the carpet.

  She was going to explode if he didn’t hurry.

  “Kate, you’re a lovely woman.” He knelt beside her, his eyes feasting on her naked body.

  For a moment, she was self-conscious. She hadn’t been naked with many men since her divorce. Even before that, sex had become just a wistful memory as her relationship with Scott deteriorated.

  She was glad she was on her back; her rounded tummy didn’t show in this position. On the other hand, her breasts were flatter than when she was upright. It was a trade-off.

  The rapt expression in his eyes told her it didn’t matter in the least to him.

  “I’ve wanted you for so long, Kate. I used to imagine doing this to you during those bloody endless meetings.”

  “You did? Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

  His raised eyebrow was answer enough. They giggled, imagining the effect such an announcement would have had on St. Joe’s directors.

  Bending his head, he took her right nipple into his mouth, and she forgot everything as he suckled first one breast and then the other.

  She ran her hands down his chest, loving the feel of his flesh beneath the soft, thick hair, the hardness of the muscles beneath the taut skin. She stroked his abdomen and took his penis in her hand, sliding her palm along the velvety length and then cupping him with her fingers. His reaction sent shivers of pleasure through her.

  “Witch.” His body bucked and his voice was unsteady, but his fingers were sure as he reached down and touched the throbbing nub between her legs.

  She moved against his hand and moaned. She was on the cusp, and she wanted him with her. She looked up into his eyes.

  “Now, please, Tony, now.”

  And then he was inside her, and the waves of pleasure carried her up and up, until she thought she’d die of the sensation. He lowered his head and caught her cries with a kiss that intensified her climax.

  The explosion in her body came only a moment before his, and the guttural cry he gave melded with her own ecstatic moans.

  They were clasped in a moist, trembling heap when the knock came on the door.

  “Room service,” a cheerful male voice called.

  Tony raised his head and gave Kate a horrified look. “Breakfast,” he hissed. “I forgot we’d ordered breakfast.”

  He scrambled to his feet, snatched his running shorts and tugged them on. With a single expert flip of the duvet, he covered Kate, then went to the door.

  “Good morning,” the waiter chirped as he wheeled in a load
ed cart. “Shall I place it here by the window, sir?” He pushed the cart across the room, politely ignoring Kate’s underwear, her shorts, their shoes, Tony’s shirt and Kate herself. She had the duvet pulled up to her chin and she was trying to stifle her giggles.

  Tony shot her quelling looks.

  “Such a fine morning, sir,” the waiter purred, parking the cart with a flourish and fussily removing the lids on several silver servers. “I’ll just open these—” He jerked the curtains back so that sunshine filled the room. It was too much. Kate hid her head under the covers, peering out just enough to see what was going on.

  “Would you like me to pour your coffee, sir?”

  “No, that’ll be fine.” There was a moment of silence as Tony bent over the cart and signed the bill.

  “Thank you so much, Dr. O’Connor, and may I wish you a very pleasant day?”

  The waiter left, still without a glance at the mound in the bed that was Kate. As the door closed behind him, she poked her head out and her laughter erupted.

  Tony pretended to glower at her. “Okay, funny girl, want to share the joke?”

  She pointed at him. “Your underwear. It’s hanging out the back of your shorts.”

  With a horrified expression, he reached behind himself and pulled the pair of abbreviated black jockeys out of the left leg of his shorts. “Damn.” He stared at them and then tossed them on a chair. “Do you think he guessed what was going on in here?”

  “Oh, heavens no.” She shook her head and gave him a wide-eyed look. “It was perfectly obvious that my doctor was simply making a house call.”

  “Room call,” he corrected her, collapsing on the bed and taking her in his arms. “I’d planned this differently,” he confessed between kisses. “First of all, I didn’t want to be covered in sweat when it happened.”

  “I like your sweat. Besides, you were sweating because you had to haul me up sixty-seven of those blessed steps. I can’t believe your ankle isn’t hurting all over again.”

  “As a matter of fact, it is. I think it’s swelling even as we speak.”