by Melody Anne
“I’m ready now. I have to work tomorrow, you know,” she said, turning and moving away from him.
“Not until the afternoon. I don’t think you have to be in bed by midnight or risk turning into a pumpkin.”
“Are you implying that I act like a princess?”
“You are a princess, Sage, and I think I have just the right slipper to place on your foot.”
“Now that’s an impressive line, Spence.” She let out a giggle, but it dried up instantly when she found Spence cornering her, his warm breath just inches away.
“Then it deserves a kiss. I’ve been wanting to do this since the moment you walked through the front door.”
He leaned down, and all her thoughts of escape vanished when their mouths connected. Spence Whitman really knew how to kiss. Even the foreign exchange student she’d been so fond of was forgotten.
When he pulled back and she looked into his deep green eyes, her stomach dropped. She knew she was in serious trouble. She was beginning to fall for this man again, and he was all wrong for her. She couldn’t let this happen. He was her boss, one of the main people who determined if she became a full-fledged doctor. And she didn’t have time for an affair. She barely had time for herself, her grandmother, and her best friend.
“I’m ready to go home,” she said, and when she noticed he was about to protest, she added, “Please, Spence.” He opened his mouth as if to speak, and then she saw when he knew it was useless.
“Of course,” he said, and then found her coat.
The day hadn’t been bad at all, but the night would most likely prove to be quite lonely. That was okay, though. She had a career to think about, and she had her family—her grandmother and Grace. When she was finished with her residency, then there would be plenty of time for romance, but it certainly wouldn’t be with a man like Spence, with whom she would never feel on an equal par.
Thanksgiving was over. It was back to the real world for her.
Sage wore a big smile as she slipped outside to the ambulance bay. She’d be off work in an hour, and, rarity of rarities, the sun would still be shining. Sure, it was winter and the ground was covered in snow, but at least it was bright out and she could soak up some vitamin D.
Though Sage really didn’t have time for a relationship, Spence had been wearing down her defenses. She wouldn’t admit that, but it was the only reason she’d accepted a date with another man to the hospital’s annual Christmas party.
She didn’t like Dr. Ted Lipencolt—could barely stand him, actually—but she felt it was a much safer move than going alone. Spence would surely be there.
“Dr. Banks, we have a patient in room three. Looks like he’ll need stitches.”
“Thanks, Tina.” She came back inside. This was mindless work, something she could easily perform and still leave the hospital in plenty of time to get ready.
For someone who didn’t care about Spence’s opinion, she’d sure been putting a lot of effort into this party. No matter how much she told herself it was for her alone, in the back of her mind, she knew she wanted to make an impression, knew she wanted to feel beautiful.
But, hey, that was natural behavior for any woman. It was nice to feel desirable, even if she had no plans for entering a relationship.
“Hello, Mr. Harris. How are you feeling?”
The man sitting on the table was sweating, his face a little green.
“I’ve had better days.”
“What happened?”
She put on her gloves and took inventory to make sure all the supplies she’d need were there. Her aide had done a great job of prepping the area.
“I was hanging the Christmas lights. My wife was really nagging at me, said they should have been hung weeks ago. I work hard, but does she appreciate that? Of course not. All she cares about is that the Dames and Hendricksons have their lights up already. So I go outside, get the ladder out, and start hanging the lights. It was all going fine until the ladder slipped on some ice, and there I was just flying through the air. If I didn’t know better, I’d think it was the missus exacting revenge for me taking so long to do the job.”
“Do you suspect this wasn’t an accident?” Contrary to popular belief, there were a multitude of men out there who were abused.
“No, of course not. I called for her for like ten minutes before she finally came through the front door. Did I get any sympathy? No. She just rolled her eyes and said I wasn’t gonna use this as an excuse to not get the lights finished. Hell with that. When I get home, I’m cracking open a can of beer and watching a football game. If she complains, I’ll break every strand of lights we have.”
“Well, the cut isn’t too bad. You were really lucky. And no bones were broken. You should be back to full health within a day or two,” she reassured him, trying desperately to stifle her laughter. “So how long have you been married?” She liked to talk to her patients, ease their anxiety while she took care of them. After preparing a hypodermic, she inserted it near the cut to numb the area, then picked up the sterile needle and thread.
“Twenty years this past March,” Mr. Harris told Sage. “She thinks I always forget our anniversary until she nags at me, but I don’t. I have a drink with the boys after work to mourn the loss of my bachelorhood.”
“That’s . . . uh . . . nice.” Sage really had no idea what to say. If the man was that miserable in his marriage, why didn’t he just get a divorce?
“Then I come home and take her out for a real nice dinner.”
Okay, Sage was really confused now. Before she could respond, the door opened and suddenly the room shrank as Spence joined her at the table and looked down at her work. Not something unusual.
“Can I help you, Dr. Whitman?” she asked.
“No. You’re doing a great job, Dr. Banks.” Spence walked around the table and took a seat. It looked like he was planning to stay for a while.
“Hi, Dr. Whitman,” her patient mumbled, much more subdued now with a man in the room.
“Hello, Mr. Harris. Another on-the-job injury?”
“No. Christmas lights,” he said with a sheepish smile.
“We’ve had a few of those in the last few days. I bet Mrs. Harris has been anxious for those to go up,” Spence remarked sympathetically.
“Yeah, she’s real impatient. I don’t see the big deal about these lights. Our electric bill just goes up, and they’re only on for like a month. It just seems like a lot of unnecessary work,” he said, fidgeting on the table.
“Please sit still, Mr. Harris,” Sage said as she waited for him to finish adjusting before she started the next stitch.
“I don’t know, either, Mr. Harris, but my brothers and I have been hanging the lights since we were kids. We didn’t do it one year, and Dad was right—it just wasn’t the same. There’s something about those twinkling colors that lets you know Christmas is right around the corner.”
Mr. Harris smiled at Spence’s words. “I never thought about it like that. Maybe if the missus had just said that, I wouldn’t have gotten so bent out of shape,” he said, as if the good doctor had imparted great wisdom.
“Yeah, we forget to listen every once in a while,” Spence replied.
“You got that right.”
The two of them spoke about the football game next while Sage finished stitching up her patient. She tuned them out and thought about what needed to be done for the rest of the night. She wanted to ask Spence if he’d be at the party, but that would be too obvious.
All of a sudden, Spence turned his full attention back to her. She almost stumbled on her last stitch when those smoldering green eyes devoured her from head to toe—but almost was the operative word. She was far too professional to let a little thing like that distract her from doing a perfect job.
“Dr. Banks, please tell me you don’t have a date for the party tonight,” he said, a self-confident smile spreading across his features.
“I have a patient here, Dr. Whitman. This isn’t the time or
the place for you to be asking me about my personal life.” She hadn’t quite snapped at him, but her voice was cold enough to let him know he was in trouble.
He decided to push it—as she knew he would.
“Ah, this is a work party, so it’s appropriate to ask while at work, isn’t it, Mr. Harris?”
“I don’t see nothing wrong with askin’ about it,” Mr. Harris replied. Of course he would stick up for the male doctor. Sage was seething now.
“Dr. Whitman, if you wouldn’t mind stepping outside, I’ll speak to you in a few moments,” she said before turning back to her patient. “Mr. Harris, make sure you spread some rock salt along the ground before you decide to climb the ladder again. I’m sure Mrs. Harris would like to have her lights on the house and a healthy husband for Christmas,” she said with a smile.
“Sure thing, Dr. Banks. You did a mighty fine job. I can tell there won’t even be much of a scar,” he said as he looked at her handiwork before she covered the stitches with a large bandage.
“See your regular doctor in about ten days to have the stiches removed. If you need a note to miss work tomorrow . . .”
“Nah, I’m a tough bird. I don’t need no medicines or anything. I’ll just drink a couple of beers and relax tonight. I’ll be right as rain tomorrow.”
“Mr. Harris, no alcohol tonight, not after hitting your head,” she said sternly, though she knew it was a waste of breath to even say it.
“Sure, sure, Doc,” he said, not looking her in the eyes.
“I really hope you will listen, Mr. Harris.”
He hopped from the table and limped only slightly as he left the room, not saying anything else to her. There was nothing she could do, short of tackling him and keeping him overnight in the hospital, which would never be allowed. Once he was gone, though, Sage’s eyes narrowed as she turned on Spence.
“How dare you come into my procedure room and talk about my personal life in front of a patient!” She whirled away from him to dispose of her gloves and wash her hands.
“I’m your boss, Sage. I can be in any room that you’re in,” he replied, leaning back as if he were enjoying their little spat.
“Yes, you are my boss. Maybe you should remember that. It doesn’t give you the right to harass me.” She couldn’t think of a time he’d ever had her so flustered.
“Are you feeling harassed, Sage?” he asked, his voice practically a purr.
“Yes!” she said, then felt guilty at the flinch that crossed his features. In reality, he was professional most of the time at work—though this was certainly not one of those times. It was really what happened after work that was causing her brain to shut down. Yes, she was mad because she was embarrassed—he’d embarrassed himself, too. But she was also angry because of how much she wanted to take him up on his invitation.
“No. I’m not feeling harassed, Dr. Whitman, but you know quite well that you shouldn’t have done what you did. It was unprofessional, and you have to promise to never do that in front of a patient again.”
“So I can do it when we’re alone?” he said, and she realized he’d fooled her. He wasn’t upset at all. It had been a fake-out. Was this guy utterly shameless?
“No,” she said, and turned to leave.
“One date, Sage. That’s all I’m asking. If you’re repulsed by me I’ll stop, but if you’re just scared, that’s not a good enough reason to say no.” He beat her to the door and blocked her exit.
“I’m repulsed by you,” she lied, not looking him in the eyes.
“You make me crazy,” he said as he ran a finger down her cheek, causing fire to race through her.
“Well, maybe there’s a pill I can prescribe for your condition,” she said, her voice much more breathless than she would have liked for it to be.
“You’re my drug, Sage, and you’re all I need,” he said, trapping her against the wall.
“Then you’re going to have to get used to going through withdrawal.”
“Come with me to the party.”
“I can’t. I have a date already.” Her knees were practically shaking, because she had no doubt that date or no date, she was still liable to fall into Spence’s arms if the lighting was low and she had too much eggnog again. And if he was close by, she had a feeling she’d need a lot of eggnog to get her through the night.
“Cancel. You won’t have nearly as much fun with whoever you’ve chosen to go with,” he said, clearly confident that she’d do just that.
“Sorry. Can’t. Don’t want to, either. Now if you’ll just move away, I want to head home. I have a date to get ready for.”
His brow furrowed but he took a step back.
“Good-bye, Dr. Whitman,” she said as she opened the door.
“Who’s your date?” he asked, stopping her again.
Wow, if she were more of a fool, she might actually believe he was jealous. No. There was absolutely no way.
“His name is None of Your Business,” she said before turning to exit again.
“I don’t like that answer, Sage. I don’t like it at all. I don’t think this date of yours can in any way satisfy you. I think, as a matter of fact, that I’m the only man capable of bringing you to the heights of pleasure you so desperately deserve to be brought to.” He boxed her in again.
“Really? Because you failed once.”
She’d obviously left him speechless because she finally managed to get away. Without another word, she left the exam room and waited until she was in the women’s locker room before taking in a decent breath of air.
Her last words to him had been meant to hurt, and now she was worried that she’d indeed hurt him. What was wrong with her? Oh, she hoped this night wasn’t an utter disaster. As she looked in the mirror and felt the pounding of her heart, she had a feeling that’s exactly what it was going to be.
Spence sped down the long drive that led to his childhood home. He had his own place now, but he found himself spending a lot of his time back on the ranch, as did his brothers.
This was home, the place he’d received a second chance. This was security. No matter how many years he’d aged, no matter how much success he had, there was always going to be a small part of him that was the frightened boy nobody wanted.
The snow continued to fall as he pulled up to the large ranch house with the inviting wraparound porch, now all decked out in lights that he and his brothers had hung. Yes, there were plenty of Whitman employees who could have done the work, but it was something the four of them took pride in doing each year.
It was time to get some advice from his dad, because he sure couldn’t seem to figure anything out on his own. He suddenly felt the insecurities of that young teenage boy who didn’t have a thing to his name.
He was falling for Sage and he didn’t understand it. This wasn’t the right time. His life was mapped out already. He’d planned on finding the perfect wife when he reached forty, and he was only thirty-four, then they’d have two kids—a boy and a girl, of course—and they’d live a picture-perfect life. The emotions he was feeling now were far from perfect. They were erratic and confusing and they didn’t mesh at all with his future plans.
For one thing, Sage looked like she’d rather hit him than make love to him. For another, she constantly refused when he asked her out. Was it too much to ask that she return his affection? He was trying to make up for his mistake here. He didn’t even know why he still was. There were a slew of women who would jump to go out with him. He’d never had a problem obtaining a date.
So why didn’t he just cut his losses and move on? That was why he’d come home today. His dad would have the answers. Spence would walk away from this visit knowing whether he should transfer back to Seattle full-time or if he should throw Sage over his shoulder and take her to some deep, dark cave where he could ravish her repeatedly until she admitted she was attracted to him.
He liked option number two better. A big smile parted his lips as he pushed open the front door and ran stra
ight into Eileen and Bethel. Damn!
With Bethel there, he could hardly talk to his father about ravishing her granddaughter. The woman was likely to hit him over the head with a frying pan, and she’d be smart to do just that.
“I thought I heard a car pull up,” Bethel said, and she wrapped Spence up in a hug.
“The weather is so frightful I don’t know how anyone is staying on the roads,” Eileen said as she stood in line for the next hug.
“The snow is fun to drive in,” Spence said. “You just have to have a nice big truck.” He kissed each woman on the cheek in turn.
“Well, I suppose for a younger crowd . . . We just got here a few minutes ago. Your father was kind enough to invite us over for supper,” Eileen told him.
Spence looked at Eileen’s flushed cheeks, the glow in her eyes, and the little squirm as she bounced on her feet, and the lights went on in his head.
“Well then, I shouldn’t interrupt,” he said, intending on backing away so his father could enjoy his meal and court Eileen at the same time.
“What a great surprise, son,” Martin boomed from the top of the staircase as he began his descent.
“Hello, Dad. I was coming to chat, but it can wait. I didn’t realize you had company,” Spence said, giving his dad a hug when he reached him.
“Nonsense. There’s plenty of food, and the ladies wouldn’t mind if my handsome son joined us,” Martin said as he threw an arm around Spence’s shoulders.
“I suppose . . .” Spence replied, but he didn’t have a lot of time and he really wanted to speak to his father alone.
“We’re going to go into the kitchen,” Bethel said, “and see if the cook would like any help.” She took Eileen’s arm and led her away.
Spence would have to send her some thank-you flowers.
“Let’s have a drink while we wait for supper,” Martin said, and led Spence into the sitting room. This room was his favorite in the house—the first room he’d entered that day Martin had brought him and his brothers to their new home.