The Temptation of Dr. Colton

by Karen Whiddon

  This appeared to be one of those. Though he knew everyone would rejoice at the rain, it was a hell of a time for them to be caught out in the middle of a pasture, with no shelter for miles.

  He eyed the rapidly gathering clouds with concern. “This is not good.”

  “Maybe it’ll be a brief shower,” she said, hopefully.

  “Not with those clouds. We’d better head back,” he told her, reluctant to end the morning. “We don’t want to get caught out in the open, especially with lightning. We’ll be sitting targets.”

  Her perfectly shaped brows knitted together. “True. But that storm is way in the distance. We should have plenty of time.”

  Which reminded him she had no idea of the capricious nature of weather on the Oklahoma prairie. “Do you notice how the wind’s always blowing?”

  “Yes. But that’s just today, right?”

  “Nope. It pretty much blows all the time here.” He glanced back at the clouds, which had already grown much closer. “And it’s fixin’ to pick up.”

  As if he had magical control over the weather, a second after the words left his mouth, the wind began to howl. Eyes wide, MW twisted in her saddle to assess the approaching storm. This time, her mouth fell open in shock.

  “We’re not going to have time to make it back to the barn, are we?” She had to shout to be heard over the wind.

  Scanning the landscape for anything they could use as shelter, he shook his head. “Follow me.” And he dug his heels into his mount’s side, checking to make sure she was right behind him.

  They rode fast, heading toward an outcropping of boulders where, a long time ago when he’d been a kid, Big J had built them a wooden fort on the other side. He wasn’t sure it was still there or even standing, but it was the only chance at shelter they’d have.

  He could feel the wet breath of the rain on the back of his neck. Still, the rocky ground ahead was too dangerous to bring the horses in at an all-out run.

  Slowing to a walk, he hoped MW would hold on since he knew her horse would follow his gelding’s lead. “Grip the horn,” he called out her, inwardly wincing as her mount skidded to a stop.

  Miraculously, she remained in the saddle.

  “Good job,” he began, just as the sky opened up and rain poured out, drenching them.

  Reminding himself through clenched teeth that August rain on the prairie was a blessing, he didn’t complain. He was more worried about the lightning anyway.

  Thunder boomed. Out of habit he began to count until he saw the flash. “It’s getting closer. Get down and follow me,” he hollered, dismounting.

  A second later, she did the same. And then, to his amazement, she laughed. “I love it,” she said, tilting her face up to the downpour, lifting her arms as if she could channel the storm’s energy.

  What could he do then but haul her up against him and kiss her, long and deep and with all the hunger that had been building up inside him for so long?

  She kissed him back, her eager response only stoking the fire in his veins. He lost track of how long they stood there, bodies locked together, mating with their mouths. His horse’s sharp whinny brought him back to the present and he broke away.

  Breathing in quick, shallow gasps, she stared at him, her eyes wide and her pupils huge.

  “Come on,” he rasped. “We’ve got to get out of this rain.”

  He led the horses around the boulders where, to his relief, the wooden fort still stood. Well aware his kids were always on horseback, his dad had made it large enough to accommodate two horses, including two covered stall areas with tie-ups.

  “Here.” He showed her how to secure the reins, praying she didn’t notice how his hands shook. Once she’d copied his motions, she turned to face him.

  Bracing himself, he waited for her to reproach him.

  Instead, she stepped forward, putting her arms around him and burying her face in his throat. Though his body reacted immediately, he kept himself still, hardly daring to breathe.

  And then she began to touch him, the movement of her soft, damp hands searing his skin. He tried not to move, though the effort nearly killed him. But once she slid her hands under his drenched shirt and splayed them over his stomach, his willpower went up in smoke.

  A sound escaped him, a groan of need, and he lifted her wet T-shirt over her head. Removing her bra in a deft motion, he cupped her beautiful breasts before taking one nipple into his mouth. She gasped, delight plain on her lovely face.

  She kicked off her sneakers and helped him remove her jeans and panties, her damp and glistening body more beautiful than he could ever have imagined.

  “Your turn,” she told him softly, her husky voice vibrating with a desire that matched his own.

  Before he could even begin unbuttoning his shirt, she nearly tore it in her hurry to get it off him. When her fingers started on the button to his jeans, he thought he might explode.

  “Wait,” he rasped. Taking her hand, he guided it to himself, letting her feel the swollen outline of his arousal through his jeans.

  “I want you,” he told her.

  The hitch in her breathing told him she wanted him, too.

  But he had to be absolutely certain. If they made love, he didn’t want there to be any uncertainty between them. He wanted to have all of her—body, mind and heart.

  Inhaling deeply, he met her gaze. Her dilated pupils made his arousal swell against her fingers. “MW?”

  Her way of answering the unspoken question was to slide her fingers over him and then pull him down for a deep, wet kiss.

  Like a wildfire taking over the prairie, desire swept through him. Nearly out of control. Shaking, he forced himself to break away, once again needing to make certain she really wanted this as badly as he did. But she made a whimper of protest when he tried to pull away and held on with a fierceness that, under other circumstances, would have made him smile.

  He kissed her once more, their tongues a dance of intimacy, of need, pure passion providing fuel to the fire.

  Head spinning, for the third time he attempted to do the right thing. But MW was having none of it. She touched him, fierce and primal, her bold caress almost a command, and he went under, drowning in need.

  Blood surging, his body throbbed under the sure stroke of her fingers. This time, when she unbuttoned his jeans and freed him, he let himself go, pressing against her, nearly mindless with desire.

  When she’d gotten the rest of his clothes off, he stood naked while her gaze devoured him, lingered on his jutting arousal. Hands clenched into fists to keep himself from taking her right there on the dirt floor, he managed to speak.

  “Are you sure?”

  Passion blazing from her eyes, she nodded. “More sure than I’ve been of anything else in my life.”

  He should have asked about Walter, mentioned her memory loss, but she wrapped her hand around him and guided him to where her wet warmth waited.

  Still standing, she backed him against the wall and took him inside her, sheathing him as if their bodies had been made for each other. He couldn’t talk, couldn’t even think. He could do nothing but move, passion and wonder filling him.

  At some point, he slid to the ground while she rode him, her head thrown back and her eyes half closed. He struggled not to lose himself, refusing to let go until she found her own release.

  And when her body clenched around his as she shattered in ecstasy, the last remaining shred of his control vanished. Helpless, he followed her, the pleasure pure and explosive and completely, utterly mind-blowing.

  Chapter 11

  Panting, MW fell against Eric, exhausted and spent. And happy. Deliriously, amazingly happy. She adored the way he continued to hold her, as if she was precious to him, their sweat-slick bodies fitting together like two long lost puzzle
pieces.

  “I refuse to regret this,” she announced, as soon as she could speak again.

  He chuckled, the movement making her wince. “Are you all right?”

  “A bit sore,” she admitted, smiling as she, too, found the humor in the situation. Outside, the rain appeared to have moved on, judging from the complete lack of sound. “I’m not sure how I’m going to ride that horse back to the main house.”

  His chuckle turned into a laugh, making her rise up off him. Once she had, he shifted and eased himself out from under her. “That might be a bit of a problem,” he admitted. “But I think you’ll survive.”

  “I imagine I will.” Turning away, she began trying to gather up her clothes. Weirdly, her amusement from before had vanished, leaving her on the verge of tears.

  “Now what?” he asked quietly, handing over her bra and T-shirt.

  She tried for a shrug. “I don’t know.”

  “Are you limping?” he asked.

  Surprised, she realized she had been. “My leg’s a little sore. I’m not sure why.”

  He made short work of getting dressed, studying her while she tugged on her T-shirt. When she went to step into her jeans, he stopped her. “Wait just a second. Is that a scar?”

  “Where?” Looking down, she tried to see what he saw.

  “On your right femur.”

  She supposed she should know where a femur was located, but she had no idea. “Show me.”

  His gentle touch made her shiver. “The femur is the only bone in your thigh. See this, right here?”

  To her shock, she saw the slightly puckered, silvery line on her skin. “It does look like a scar.”

  “You had some sort of surgery.”

  Slowly she nodded. “A metal plate to fuse my femur. I broke it when I was in France.”

  His stunned stare mirrored her own shock. “You remember? Was that a memory?”

  “Yes. It was.” She waited to see if anything else came, but that was it.

  He shook his head. “What I want to know is how did they miss this when you were brought in after your accident?” He sounded furious. “Surely Dr. Patel ordered an X-ray.”

  He yanked his jeans on and pulled his cell phone from his pocket. A second later, he muttered a curse. “No signal. I forgot how it is out here in the boonies.”

  Fully dressed now, she faced him. “I had X-rays or something. I remember because they told me I had no broken bones.”

  “Which means that metal plate you say you have must have shown up.” Now he sounded distracted. “Let’s get back to the house. I need to talk to Dr. Patel or whoever is on call.”

  She nodded, glancing around them. “Before we go, I do have one question. Why is there a barn way out here?”

  “It was a play fort my brothers and I used when we were kids.”

  “Not Greta? What, were no girls allowed?”

  Her teasing coaxed a reluctant smile from him. “Sorry. Yes, of course Greta played here. She was a tomboy to the core. If we’d tried to tell her she wasn’t allowed, I think she might have beaten us all up.”

  That image was so in keeping with what she knew of his sister that she laughed.

  “Come on,” he told her, his smile fading. “I really need to make that call.”

  Once they were mounted, she turned to look at him. “I don’t understand. Why is finding out about my X-ray so important?”

  “Because if you do have a metal plate inside you, there might be a serial number. It’ll be registered to you—the real you.” The intensity of his voice matched his expression. “Don’t you see, MW? We should be able to find out who you actually are.”

  With that pronouncement, he rode away, urging his horse into a jog, and once they’d cleared the rocky area, a lope.

  Stunned, she sat for a moment before following. For an instant, just a flash actually, she didn’t want to know. She liked being MW, liked the new life she’d started. Of course, a second later, she realized how foolish such a notion was. Of course she needed to find out her real name, where she came from and what she did for a living. And, maybe most important of all, who Walter might be.

  She rode as fast as she dared behind him, and when he stopped his horse and waited for her to catch up, her relief was palpable. “Thank you,” she said, breathless. “I’m still not entirely confident on horseback.”

  The ride appeared to have calmed him somewhat. “I apologize.” His formal tone chipped at her heart. “None of this is your fault.”

  “True.” She wanted to ask if learning her name would change this thing—whatever it was—that had started between them, but stopped herself just in time. Of course it would. Or might. For all she knew, she might have just cheated on a husband.

  Stomach roiling, she looked past Eric toward the direction she thought they needed to go. “I’m ready to ride,” she told him.

  The grin he flashed devastated her, though she took care not to show it. “Follow me.”

  And they were off.

  Once they went through the gate and rode across the final pasture, she could see the barn and the main house in the distance. Eric slowed his gelding to a trot and her mount immediately did the same. When they arrived at the barn, two grooms were waiting to take their horses.

  Eric dismounted with ease and hurried over to her side. “Do you need some help?”

  Instantly, she shook her head. If he touched her again, her fragile composure would shatter. “I can do it, thanks.”

  Imitating the movements she’d seen him make, she swung her right leg over the saddle and dropped to the ground. While not as graceful as his dismount, she thought she’d done pretty well. “Easy peasy,” she said, waiting for his approval.

  But he’d already turned away, intent on getting back to the house.

  Once they reached the impressive foyer, Eric excused himself and hurried away, his phone already against his ear. She stood at the bottom of the massive, curving staircase and debated between going to her room and heading into the kitchen to see if she could help with anything.

  But since right now she needed a hot shower, a change of clothes and time alone to think, she climbed the stairs and headed to her room.

  Thirty minutes later, showered, dressed in a clean T-shirt and shorts, she finished blow drying her hair and tried to decide how she felt about what had happened today.

  She didn’t know what kind of person she might actually be, but the fact that she’d given in to the sexy temptation Dr. Eric Colton presented gave her pause. Especially since she had no idea about her past. For all she knew, she could be a wife and mother, though she thought if that was the case, by now someone would have raised a fuss about her disappearance.

  All she could do now was wait—and pray that when she did learn the truth, no one else was hurt by her impetuous actions.

  Still, the uncertainty didn’t erase the beauty of the sensual time she and Eric had spent together. Nothing could take that away from her—the images and emotions would forever be seared into her soul. Right now, though, she didn’t dare examine them too closely, afraid she might be the one who ended up getting hurt.

  A quiet tap at her door made her jump. She peeked out, biting her lip at the sight of Eric, who clearly had come directly from the shower. He hadn’t even taken the time to towel dry his hair.

  “Come in,” she said, stepping aside for him to pass. Once he had, she left the door open a crack, just in case anyone passing by might get the wrong idea.

  “Dr. Patel said the radiologist made a notation about your metal plate, but it was overlooked.” Fury underscored his low-pitched voice. “True, it’s highly unlikely that it could have a serial number, but she didn’t even check.”

  MW nodded, even though she had no idea what made him so angry.

  “I
f it does have a serial number, it will be registered to you,” he continued. “All this time, we could have had answers rather than speculation. We could have known.”

  She eyed him, intrigued by his fervor but feeling strangely distant, as they were discussing someone else. “And if there is no serial number?”

  “Then I can have Ryan run a check on women who’ve had this type of surgery in the last few years. Your scar is fairly recent. There can’t be that many.”

  This time, she nodded, unsure what he wanted her to say or do.

  “I’ve already called Ryan so he can get a head start.” He cleared his throat. “I’m also making a trip back to Tulsa,” he said. “I want you to stay here, where I know you’re safe.”

  The thought of him leaving made her feel more bereft than she should. To cover, she shrugged and tried to appear as if being left alone on his family’s ranch didn’t bother her. Before today, Eric might have noticed her odd behavior and called her on it. Or at least made a comment asking if she was all right. Now, he appeared too distracted to even notice. He’d gone to her window and stood with his back to her, staring outside.

  “When are you leaving?” she finally asked.

  “In a few minutes,” he answered without turning. “I’m hoping to be back by nightfall, but if not, it’ll be tomorrow.”

  “Drive safely.”

  Now he looked at her. “I will.” His expression softened. “About today—” he began.

  “Don’t.” She cut him off, not wanting him to ruin what had been a perfect afternoon. “We’ll talk about that later. Some other time.”

  Slowly he nodded. Crossing to her, he cupped her chin and kissed her softly on the lips. Then, as she stood absolutely still, almost afraid to breathe, he strode toward the door and left.

  * * *

  Eric kicked himself mentally at least a dozen times before he even reached the main road. He’d seen the hurt in MW’s beautiful blue eyes and knew what she thought. Still, he didn’t know a way to fix things. At least not until he knew who she really was.