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My Sister's Boyfriend (The Trouble With Twins 1)

Page 8

by Sylvia McDaniel


  Brent frowned. He knew the man was right. She would hate him for doing this, but the hospital needed the money. The new wing would stand the test of time while relationships never lasted forever.

  "I can’t. I think we could earn a hundred thousand dollars, especially if I can get a few celebrities to participate."

  "Then for your sake I hope you didn't have any interest in Miss Riley, because when she finds out about your bachelor auction, she's going to cut you loose like stink bait."

  Brent shrugged and tried to act nonchalant. "When have you seen me with a woman for very long?"

  Stephen shook his head and glanced at Jennifer and then returned his gaze to Brent. "I'd take that woman over a bachelor auction any day. I’d find a way to work with her to achieve what I wanted."

  Oh no, working with Jennifer would be way too dangerous. “So are you turning me down?”

  The nurse gazed at Jennifer as she walked towards them. “Yes, I am.”

  Jennifer walked up, a frown creasing her forehead. "I thought you were talking about a patient."

  Stephen shook his head and then faced Jennifer. "We were, but we're finished now."

  "Did I overhear the words ‘bachelor auction,’ or am I just being paranoid?"

  Brent glanced at Stephen. "I was telling Stephen how we discussed holding a bachelor auction, but you vetoed the idea."

  "It's barbaric, right up there with beauty pageants. Maybe a golf or tennis tournament?" Jennifer suggested. "Don't you agree, Stephen?"

  Stephen gave Brent a pointed look. "Not a bad suggestion, but I really suck at golf."

  "Even more reason to hold a tournament. It would be something I could compete against you in and win," Jennifer teased the nurse.

  “There would be no competition. I’d let you win any day.”

  Jennifer blushed. “Stephen. No wonder you’re considered the hottest catch in the hospital. You know how to make a girl feel good.”

  “If it doesn’t feel good…there’s no reason to do it,” the nurse replied, his voice smooth.

  The nurse was out-and-out flirting with Jennifer right in front of him. It shouldn’t matter but it did, and that rankled him even more than the nurse turning him down and suggesting that he give up the bachelor auction.

  Stephen gave a wry grin in Brent’s direction and then turned to Jennifer. “Let me know how I can volunteer to help you raise money for the new pediatrics wing.”

  “Thank you, Stephen. I’ll remember that.” Jennifer glanced at her watch. “Excuse me, I have a meeting I need to attend. See you guys later."

  She turned and walked down the hall, leaving Brent and Stephen with a clear view of her nicely rounded derriere as it swayed with her walk.

  "Well, well, Doctor Moulton, I’d say you were crazy to take a bachelor auction over that.”

  As Brent watched Jennifer turn the corner out of sight, he couldn't help but think Stephen was right. Yet she was a tempting morsel that he could not become involved with no matter how attracted he was to her. And once she learned of the bachelor auction, it would be a moot point anyway. The children of Tyler deserved good health care, and that had to remain his focus.

  #

  The windshield wipers screeched in time with the music on the radio as Jennifer's Grand Prix sliced through the standing water on the road. Fingers of lightning trailed across the evening sky, lighting up the dark road that led from the hospital to the main highway. She'd worked late into the evening firming up the plans for the silent auction.

  Overall, everything seemed to be coming together, and the auction was packed with goods for people to bid on. Her committees seemed ready, and Barclay's, a local restaurant, agreed to cater the event and had even donated the food.

  A truck passed her, sending a spray of water over the top of her car and blinding her from seeing the road.

  Ahead hazard lights flashed dimly on a car stalled on the shoulder of the road. She slowed further to keep from splashing the vehicle. The car, a red Z3 BMW, sat with its driver fighting the wind and the rain to manually put the top up.

  Oh my God! She hit the brakes, recognizing Brent.

  Chapter Six

  The darkness couldn’t hide the rigid set of Brent’s jaw as the wind ripped the canvas from his hands. He dropped the torn fabric, resignation in his stance.

  The sight was comical yet heart wrenching, and she didn't know whether to laugh or cry for him. He looked pathetic and furious at the same time.

  Nervously she honked the horn and he glanced back at her, the headlights reflecting a thunderous expression on his handsome face until he recognized her.

  She hit the electric window button, sending the glass down, and stuck her head out. Rain pelted her face. "Come get in my car."

  He splashed his way to her, a determined step in his stride. He halted at the driver's door. "I'm soaking wet. And I'd be lousy company."

  She smiled. "I understand. But you look like a lightning rod fighting that canopy. Not to mention you just got over being sick. Get in.”

  He made a low, growling noise. "All right, but I'm warning you, my mood is testy at best."

  "I think I can handle your mood," she said, wondering at her sanity as she handed him a towel she kept in the backseat pocket. Yet she couldn't leave him. "How long before the tow truck arrives?"

  "Two hours. I told the guy by that time, I'd have an expensive fish tank instead of a car."

  He opened the door to the backseat and slid in. "I'll sit in the back. That way I won't ruin your front seats."

  She shifted around in the front seat and tried to face him. "What happened?"

  "Who knows? I thought it was the battery, but another car tried to jumpstart me and that didn't help. I had the top down. When I saw the clouds building, I pulled over to put the top up. The engine never came on again. The top was halfway up when the power choose that moment to die. I hit the release button, but with this wind, I could never raise the top and secure it. Now it has a permanent sunroof."

  He cursed and shook his head. "I love that car, and she's getting soaked."

  "That's a shame. I liked that car too." She paused for a moment trying to find something to cheer him. "So she's getting soaked?"

  "Yeah, she is."

  "Why do men call their automobiles a she? Why not a he?"

  The darkness of the car enveloped them, but her eyes could still make out his frustration. "Because like women, cars can be temperamental."

  Changing his mood would be a challenge.

  "It's an automobile. It has no personality," she commented.

  "Even machines have their own personality. Their own little quirks. Women do, too," he challenged.

  "I agree. I have a few quirks. I like Fudgesicles. I love thunderstorms and rain, and sometimes I even like to put barbeque sauce on potato salad, but most men I've met have their quirks as well."

  "Yes, but that's different."

  "Naturally," she said sarcastically, thinking this conversation was certainly not the titillating exchange she'd hoped for. Though she was still contemplating seducing Dr. Moulton, maybe tonight was not the time to make that decision.

  Silence filled the car as they watched the rain.

  Finally she heard him mumble. "My insurance agent is never going to believe this one."

  "I'm glad I came along," she said, noticing the windows were beginning to fog. Maybe by losing sight of the vehicle, his mind could be diverted to a more interesting topic, a more sensual one, like oil changes and tire pressure. After all they seemed to be stuck in a car-conversation warp.

  "Look, if you need to leave, I'll be all right," he said with a shiver.

  "Right. You were sitting there furious, soaking wet and now you're shivering." She opened the driver's door and climbed out into the rain.

  "What are you doing?" he called. "Get in here before you get drenched."

  "I'm getting you a blanket." It wasn't a lie. She carried a blanket in the trunk, and, well, now she had the perfec
t excuse to climb in the backseat with him. Talk about irony. Of all places for the two of them to be together—another backseat. And this time with her contemplating seduction.

  Well…maybe not. An angry car fanatic just didn’t flip her switch, but she couldn’t leave him out in the rain and take the chance he’d get sick again.

  Rain slashed her as she hurried to the trunk and opened it. Quickly she grabbed the spare blanket and slammed the lid shut. She splashed back around the car to the rear passenger's door.

  She opened the door and slid into the backseat. Now he’d be opposite her when they spoke. She didn't like sitting in front of him, unable to read the expressions on his face. Yet being in the backseat of a car with him replayed all sorts of memories.

  "Here. Doctor's orders. Put this around you," she said draping the blanket around his shoulders. "I only wish I had some plastic we could put over your car."

  "It's soaked already," he said with a sigh, clutching the blanket to him. Lightning wove an erratic tapestry across the night sky, and a resounding boom of thunder caused her to jump.

  They sat in the dark, him fuming, while she tried to think of some way to change the atmosphere.

  "Remember that movie where the newscaster stuck his head out the window and started yelling at the absurdness of life," Jennifer mentioned, hoping he would relax.

  "Yeah, why?"

  "I bet in that moment, he released enough stress that his body felt instant relief," she said, knowing Brent would never try it.

  She'd mentioned the movie scene hoping to make him laugh and ease his stress. Yet he sat there staring at her like she was not only stupid, but crazy as well.

  "Are you suggesting I stick my head out this window in the rain and scream something asinine?"

  "Nah. I knew you'd never do it. And I'm right, you won't," she challenged.

  He stared at her, his left brow raised slightly. "It'd be pretty stupid to stick my head out in the rain."

  "And doctors never do anything stupid," she retorted.

  "Oh come on, if you knew me better you'd know I do zany things all the time. Hell, if we weren't waiting for a tow truck, I'd take off my clothes and run naked in the rain. But my beloved car is getting ruined," he responded, raising his voice.

  "It's not my fault," she answered, her voice matching his irritated tone. "Tell the heavens you're not happy about your car getting baptized. I'm just trying to be a Good Samaritan and keep you from getting fried by lightning."

  For a moment she thought she'd said too much as he regarded her, his eyes drawn together in a frown, the silence crackling with animosity.

  With obvious frustration, she watched him reach over and touch the electric window button. The glass whirred down just enough that he could get his head out the window.

  "Enough already!" he shouted. "Turn off the damn faucets and quit raining on my car! You've trapped me with a loony woman who's tired of my complaining. Knock off the waterworks," he yelled, cracking up with laughter at the end of the sentence as he pulled his head back in the car.

  Lightning sizzled across the sky, and a boisterous boom of thunder answered him.

  Laughing, she reached over and gave him a teasing punch. "Now you've done it, you've really pissed off Mother Nature. It's coming down harder than ever."

  He rolled up the window and grinned. "I see that. Thanks for the advice, Sport."

  "Not to mention that you're all wet again and still stuck with the crazy woman."

  "You I can deal with." He shook his head like a dog, sending the spray in her direction.

  Together, the two of them laughed, and the atmosphere in the car eased into pleasant companionship.

  "Do you feel better?" she asked, wiping the water from her face.

  "Of course I feel better. Though I did let you goad me into doing something silly. The next time I'm stuck in the rain, I'll roll down the window and start yelling."

  "I wouldn't recommend doing that when other people are around. They might move you from pediatrics to psychiatry. Only you'd be on the wrong end of a stethoscope."

  He grinned. "I never cared much for psychiatry. Made me see things about the people I love that I really didn't want to know."

  Stunned, she stared at him, at his small revelation. He’d mentioned his father's multiple marriages, but she'd never considered what a doctor would learn or see about the people he knew and loved from a psych rotation.

  For a moment they sat in silence, listening to the steady pitter-patter of the rain as it bounced off the top of the car.

  A shudder went through her as the damp air left her clothes clinging to her, wet and chilled. She shivered.

  "Damn, you're just as cold as I am." He reached out, grabbed her by the arm, and hauled her over to his side of the car. He started to wrap her in the blanket with him. "Wait, let me take off my shirt so I don't get you soaking wet."

  She watched him unbutton and remove his shirt, leaving on the undershirt he wore beneath his scrubs. Each breath she took seemed shallow, and her pulse rate quickened. All alone in the backseat of her car, wrapped in a blanket with nothing to occupy them for the next few hours…

  Gee, what could they do?

  She took a deep breath, and the masculine scent of Brent filled her nostrils and rattled her senses even further. If she were serious about seducing him, now suddenly seemed a good opportunity. After all, the tow truck could be hours from arriving.

  "The operating room is so cold that I wear a cotton T-shirt under my scrubs," he said, dropping the shirt to the floorboard.

  “I didn’t know you were also a surgeon,” she said, surprised at this information.

  “I’m not, but if it’s my patient and the case warrants it, I scrub in and observe.”

  He pulled her into his arms and wrapped the blanket around them. Heat enveloped Jennifer, invading her with warmth that surged through her veins, making it difficult to think about anything other than the fact that Brent's arms enclosed her.

  Her shivers radiated into something more frightening, more nerve-racking, more sensual.

  It had been longer than forever since she'd seduced a man. In fact she couldn't remember ever using her womanly wiles to bring a man to her bed. So what was the first step in seduction?

  "Ah, I haven't cuddled with a man in the backseat of a car in a long, long time," she said, her mind trying to focus on the blanket and not the heady feel of Brent's very muscular chest fitting snug against her back.

  "Hmm," he said, his face nestled in her hair, his breathing touching her neck in places that made her tingle. "Me neither."

  He smelled of rain and a unique male scent that had her breathing faster and deeper. "Maybe I should turn the car on, and we could use the heater. Maybe that would be better."

  She didn't want to move for fear that she'd never experience this pleasure again, and right now, she felt very good snuggled beneath the blanket with him. Only the feel of his lips against hers could make the moment any better.

  "No," he said holding her tighter against him. "Uses too much fuel, and besides, I’m getting warmer already."

  She frowned as she felt his hand caress her arm in a warming gesture. Yes, she'd been cold, but now she felt on fire. “Me too.”

  She turned to the side and tilted her head up to gaze into his eyes and felt like she was strapped to a moon rocket. The heat that blazed in his stare had nothing to do with the weather. No, a sexual firestorm raged in that one glance scorching her. The boosters were being lit and soon she'd be headed to the stars via Dr. Brent Moulton.

  A lightning bolt hit a nearby tree, sending sparks flying into the sky. Thunder rumbled. Her eyes remained locked with his as she watched him struggle against the desire that surrounded them.

  "That was close," she whispered, certain those sparks must be the result of the heat they generated. The air felt charged with more currents than a utility company.

  "Too close to resist," he said, his head coming down to meet her mouth.


  He was going to kiss her, and she thought she'd die before his lips reached hers.

  Warm and soft, his lips captured her mouth, savoring her with an urgency that left her craving more. She ached with the need to be closer to him. She reached up and put her hand behind his neck and pulled him down, nearer to her. The motion sent them tumbling backward onto the seat with her stretched out beneath him. Their lips were still locked together as he melded his mouth to hers.

  The need to feel his strong, powerful body adhered against her own had her stretching out fully beneath him, her heels smacking the back door. She felt his erection, rock solid and hard, pressing into the junction of her thighs, and she arched her back, aching with hunger for him. Passion overwhelmed her, and she opened her mouth to experience his tantalizing tongue, wanting to devour him.

  God, had it felt this good at seventeen? No wonder she'd lost herself in his embrace that night. His touch had her body throbbing with need. It felt so right that the storm outside receded and the only sound she heard were the moans that came from deep inside her.

  He cupped her face, caressing her temples as her hands tangled in his hair. They broke apart, both gasping for air, but his lips never left her body as they moved down her face, her neck.

  "I knew it would be this way between us," he whispered against her ear, his breath tickling her. "You're dangerous."

  Knowing that he wanted her, not her sister, dulled all the warnings in her mind to a soft whisper and fired her hormones. She wanted this experience.

  She pulled his mouth back to hers, and his hands moved down her shoulder to her waist. He slipped his hand beneath her silk blouse and pushed aside her satin bra. She wanted to help him reach her breasts, but was unwilling to give up his tempting mouth.

  He cupped her breast in his hand, and fire consumed her. This was crazy, perilous, and yet she didn't care. The feel of his hands on her breasts, the anticipation of his mouth on her nipples wrought complete havoc with her sensibilities. And when he gently pinched her sensitive nipple, shockwaves of pleasure jolted her.

 

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