Dr. Daddy (4 page)

And her hair... Jonas curled his hands into fists lest he do something really stupid. Because Zoey had let her hair down. It hung loose and cascaded over one shoulder in a shimmer of copper that seemed to catch fire as it reflected the rays of the setting sun streaming in through the window behind her. Never before had he realized just how long and straight, how silky and rich, her hair was.

And in that moment, Jonas knew he was in serious trouble. Because instead of stirring up the anger and resentment he normally felt when he encountered her, Zoey was stirring up something else entirely. Something he hadn’t experienced for a long, long time. Something that felt dangerously like desire. Hot, heavy, urgent desire.

“Hi,” she said with a smile when she looked up at him.

Jonas wasn’t sure, but he didn’t think Zoey had ever smiled at him before. And the knowledge that she was doing so now, that the inviting, welcome-home expression on her face was meant for him and him alone, was staggering to say the least. As if to illustrate, he took a step backward, nearly reeling. Then she looked back down at the baby and, with the distraction of her beauty gone, he was finally able to catch his breath.

“How...how did it go with Juliana today?” he asked, hoping his voice revealed none of the troubling thoughts parading through his brain.

“Great,” Zoey told him.

He eyed her suspiciously. “Really?”

She nodded. “Really.”

“No fitfulness?”

“No, nothing unusual for a baby this age.”

“No crying jags?”

“Only when she was hungry.”

“No screaming fits?”

“Not a one.”

She continued to look at Juliana, and her next words were expressed in the high-pitched, breathy voice people normally adopted when addressing an infant. “We did very well today, didn’t we, sweetie? We ate well, and we played on our quilt, and we watched some birds at the feeder outside, and we read
Curious George,
and we listened to some reggae music, and—”

“Reggae music?” Jonas repeated. “Where did you find reggae music? I don’t have any reggae music.”

Zoey looked up at him and smiled that mind-numbing smile again. “I brought some tapes in from my car. It’s been my experience that babies love reggae music.”

“They do?”

She nodded. “Evidently. At least, the limited study group I’ve used for experimentation has.”

“How limited?”

“Three. Well, four now, if you include Jules.”

“Jules?”

She nodded again. “I think it fits her much better than ‘Juliana’. Don’t you think she’s more of a Jules?”

Jonas shook his head, feeling more and more bizarre with every passing moment. Zoey Holland was in his home, speaking to him quite civilly, rocking a child in her arms upon whom she had bestowed an affectionate nickname and behaving as if this were the most normal thing in the world.

“I—I don’t know,” he stammered. “I never really thought about it.”

Zoey dipped her head toward the baby, who stared back at her with frank adoration. “Well, I think she’s definitely more of a Jules.”

As if voicing her agreement, Juliana smiled and cooed with much contentment. Zoey laughed and rose from the chair, lifting the baby to her shoulder.

“I wasn’t sure what you planned to do for dinner,” she said, “so I took the liberty of fixing some seafood stew and a tossed salad.”

Dinner, too? Jonas marveled. On top of everything else, Zoey was actually cooking for him? “Where did you find the ingredients?” he asked. “I always order something in or eat out on my way home. There’s never any food in this house.”

“Well, there is now. Jules and I went to the grocery store and stocked up for you. You can pay me back before I leave tonight.”

“You took Juliana to the grocery store?” he asked incredulously.

“Didn’t I just say that I did?”

“You took her
out?
In this weather? To a public place?”

Zoey laughed as she approached him. “It was a beautiful day today, and—”

“It was thirty degrees!”

“—and Jules had a great time. She’s three months old, Dr. Tate. She’s in excellent health, and she was dressed in perfectly warm clothing. You don’t have to keep her hidden away. On the contrary, you should expose her to as many environments as possible. Stimulate her senses a little. She’s going to get bored if you keep her at home all the time. Come to think of it, maybe that’s why she cries so much.”

Zoey had paused scant inches away from him, close enough for him to reach out and touch the errant strand of hair that fell over her forehead, if that was what he wanted to do. And strangely enough, it was. But before he could lift a hand to do so, she extended the baby toward him.

“Now kiss her hello and take her in your arms,” she instructed.

The panic that always seized him whenever he had to come into close contact with Juliana gripped him fiercely, and he took another step backward. “I can’t,” he said.

Zoey took a meaningful step forward. “Of course you can.”

He shook his head. “You hold her for a while longer.”

“No,
you
hold her.”

With much reluctance, Jonas turned his hands palm up and slowly, ever so slowly, extended them forward. Zoey stared at him for a long moment before turning her mouth down in disapproval.

“See? Now that’s your problem,” she told him.

“What?” he asked. “What’s my problem?”

“You’re terrified of her.”

“Well, of
course
I’m terrified of her. Who wouldn’t be?”

“Oh, for Pete’s...” Zoey sighed in exasperation. “She’s a
baby,
Dr. Tate. Why do I have to keep reminding you of that? She’s not some knife-wielding stalker, she’s not running for public office and she won’t call you on the phone and try to sell you aluminum siding. There’s no reason to fear her. She doesn’t even have teeth! Now kiss her hello and take her in your arms.”

With some hesitation, Jonas leaned forward and placed a kiss on the crown of the baby’s head. Much to his surprise, she didn’t start howling. In fact, when she turned her head to face him, to see who had just kissed her, she smiled at him. She actually smiled. He couldn’t remember anything else in his life bringing him more pleasure, more joy, than that simple gesture from Juliana. She had smiled at him. And in that small moment, he felt ten feet tall.

“Now take her in your arms,” Zoey repeated softly.

Not quite as reluctantly as before, Jonas extended his arms. Zoey shifted the baby carefully and placed Juliana capably in his hands. He was astounded that she could have such faith in him, amazed that she would trust him with such a fragile life. Still, he reminded himself needlessly, Juliana had been with him for more than two months now, hadn’t she? And he hadn’t broken her yet. Even in those early weeks when she had seemed little more than a wisp of life, he had managed to keep her fed and clean and warm and safe, hadn’t he? He must be doing something right, even if the baby hadn’t come to love him completely. At least he’d managed not to hurt her in any way.

“That’s right,” Zoey said when Jonas tucked Juliana into one arm and settled her more closely against himself.

He waited for the howl of discomfort in which the baby always erupted when he held her, braced himself for the wildly flailing limbs that seemed intent on beating him to death. But Juliana only mewled a little this time, only fidgeted slightly as he shifted her into a more natural position. Even when she looked up and saw clearly who was holding her, she didn’t cry. Instead she only fixed him with an intent blue gaze and studied him with all her might.

“What did you do to her today?” he asked Zoey quietly, staring back at the baby with as much wonder as she seemed to hold for him. “She’s so calm, so good. Did you put something in her formula?”

“Of course not,” Zoey said with a chuckle. “You’re just starting to feel a little more confident with her, that’s all, and she’s picking up on that. Babies sense our emotions. If you’re distraught, then she’s going to be distraught. If you’re content and confident, then she usually will be, too. You just need to spend more time with her, Dr. Tate, holding her, touching her. You just need to get more comfortable with her. Let her know you care about her.”

“Jonas,” he said, still looking at Juliana.

“What?”

He met Zoey’s gaze levelly over the baby’s blond head. “Call me Jonas.”

That look was back in his eyes again, Zoey noted with much apprehension. The one that had so unsettled her yesterday afternoon when he’d mentioned that his birthday wish—a wish that included her—was going to come true. It was a heated look, a suggestive look, a look that promised something she wasn’t sure he had any business promising her. And, boy, did it make the nursery seem warm.

“Okay,” she said softly.

“Go ahead,” he instructed her.

“Go ahead and what?”

“Call me Jonas.”

Her mouth went dry as she said, “Jonas.”

He smiled, and his expression turned into something even more unsettling. Unwilling to consider just what was happening between the two of them, Zoey moved quickly toward the nursery door and stepped through it.

“I’m going to check on dinner,” she said. “After we eat, we can go over some real simple child-care and development basics, and then I’ll head home, okay?”

Jonas shifted Juliana from one shoulder to the other and smiled more broadly at Zoey, clearly feeling more confident than ever. Unfortunately, that confidence seemed to extend beyond the baby he held in his arms and enveloped her, as well. And confidence was something she decided she didn’t want Jonas Tate to feel around her.

His anger, she could handle. His resentment, she could handle. But confidence... He’d never seemed to feel that in her presence before. It was part of why she’d never had any trouble facing up to him when the occasion called. Now, however, she felt the situation changing, felt the earth shifting a little under her feet. What was worst of all was that she was on his turf at the moment, and would be for two weeks to come. The more confidence he came to feel, the more likely she was to lose her own. And confidence was something she most certainly could not afford to lose. It had taken her too many years to find it.

“Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes, if you’re interested,” she said as she took another step backward.

“Oh, I’m definitely interested,” Jonas told her.

“Great,” she replied with a shaky smile. “Umm, I’ll just call you when I’m...when
it’s
ready, shall I?”

“I’ll be waiting. But, Zoey,” he called out when she turned to leave.

She turned back reluctantly. “Yes?”

“Don’t make me wait too long.”

She chuckled, hoping to dispel the undeniably sexual tension that seemed to have sprung up out of nowhere. Unfortunately, the sound she uttered was anything but light and dismissive. No, it was more like the strangled sound a small animal must make when it stumbles into the headlights of an oncoming truck.

And all she could do after that was run.

A
fter dinner, Juliana slept peacefully in her bassinet while Jonas cleaned up in the kitchen and Zoey sat in the living room wondering what on earth she was doing in Dr. Tate’s home.

Jonas’s home,
a little voice at the back of her brain reminded her.
You’re supposed to call him Jonas now.

She sighed in spite of herself. For the most part, Zoey had been using his first name, whether speaking to him directly or simply thinking about him. And as much as she hated to admit it, referring to her sworn enemy by his given name had been surprisingly easy, had actually come to feel as natural as using her own name did.

“This is not good,” she murmured to the sleeping baby in the white wicker bassinet, adjusting Juliana’s flannel blanket to cover her little feet. “Not good at all.”

“What’s not good?” Jonas asked as he entered the living room.

Reluctantly, Zoey turned around to face him. He’d changed his clothes before dinner and now wore a baggy, oatmeal-colored sweater over extremely faded Levi’s. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows to reveal some of the sexiest forearms she had ever had the pleasure to observe, and his jeans hugged his trim hips and lean legs in a way she discovered—much to her surprise—made her feel very envious. On his feet were thick, rag-wool socks and no shoes.

No shoes, she marveled for the umpteenth time. This was truly a side of Jonas Tate she’d never encountered before. A rumpled, cozy, sexy side of him she would just as soon have never discovered. Because if she’d thought her relationship with the man was difficult before, now it was almost intolerable. In addition to finding him infuriating, she was also coming to find him more than a little intriguing. And she hated being intrigued by a man. Invariably, it led to trouble.

“Nothing,” she replied quickly. “Jules and I were just having a little discussion. Girl talk. That kind of thing.”

Jonas nodded and sighed, a tired, almost helpless sound. “I see. So she’s awake again, is she?”

Zoey shook her head. “Uh, no, actually, she’s not. It was kind of a one-sided conversation.”

He moved to stand beside her, gazing down at the sleeping infant with a look she could only liken to defeat. Juliana continued to doze peacefully, her only movement the subtle rise and fall of her torso with every deep breath she took.

“I wish she would sleep this well at night,” Jonas muttered.

“She doesn’t sleep through the night yet?”

He made a derisive sound. “Not unless you consider waking up every two hours with a screaming demand to be fed ‘sleeping through the night.’”

Zoey turned to look at him. “She shouldn’t be doing that. By now she needs to be getting into a much longer sleep pattern at night. A lot of formula-fed babies this age sleep seven or eight hours a night. Some even longer. And even if she’s got her days and nights confused, she shouldn’t be feeding so often.”

He looked back at her, narrowing his eyes in obvious concern. “She shouldn’t?”

Zoey shook her head. “How much does she eat at a time?”

He shrugged. “A few ounces before losing interest. Then she dozes off for a little while. She’s been doing that since she arrived. Isn’t that how much she ate for you today?”

Zoey shook her head. “I offered her six, and she drank the bottle dry every time. And it wasn’t every two hours, it was about every five. She should be taking more than a few ounces at a feeding and eating a lot less often than every two hours.” She studied him in disbelief. “Haven’t you talked to her pediatrician about this?”

“Yes, at her two-month checkup. He wasn’t too worried.”

“Then you need to find another pediatrician,” she told him. “He should have talked to you more about your concerns. You’ve really been getting up every two hours to feed her at night?”

He nodded silently.

“Jeez, no wonder you look like hell.”

He grimaced. “Thanks a lot.”

“And no wonder you’ve been such a pain in the butt to deal with.”

“Zoey—”

“When was the last time you slept for an entire night?” she interrupted him before he could say more.

Jonas sighed his fatigue and scrubbed a hand tiredly over his face. “I don’t know. Not since Juliana came, that’s for sure.” He gazed back down at the baby. “See, Zoey? This is why I need your help. I don’t even know how to feed her. What if I’ve already done irreparable harm? What if she’s going to suffer for the rest of her life because of the mistakes I’ve made over the past two and a half months?”

Zoey softened at the obviously worried tone of his voice and circled his forearm with gentle fingers to squeeze lightly. “She’s not going to suffer permanent damage because of any mistakes you’ve made. As long as she’s been growing and gaining weight at a steady pace, that’s all you have to worry about.” She smiled at the sleeping infant. “Look at her. She’s pudgy and rosy, in tip-top shape. You’re feeding her enough. You’re just not doing it on the right schedule, that’s all. We’ll get it worked out. Everything is going to be fine.”

Jonas gazed down at the fingers wrapped around his arm, feeling their warmth penetrate to his very soul. There was something incredibly erotic about the red manicured fingernails cushioned against the dark hair that swirled over his skin. Without thinking, he covered Zoey’s hand with his. He liked the way she had said, “
We’ll
get it worked out,” and promised him that everything was going to be fine.

And he liked how softly she had touched him. He liked that a lot. More than he probably should.

He was tempted to tangle his fingers with hers and pull her hand to his lips, but about the time he made the decision to do so, Zoey removed her hand from beneath his and tucked it nervously into the pocket of her jeans. When he looked at her face, he could see that she had been as confused and agitated by the touch as he had been, and he wasn’t sure what to say that might alleviate the awkwardness of the situation. She met his gaze for only the briefest of moments, then cleared her throat anxiously and looked away.

“It won’t happen overnight, you know,” she said quietly.

For one crazy moment, he thought she was referring to the two of them, thought maybe she was suggesting that something substantial was going to happen in the not-too-distant future.

Then he realized he must be insane if he thought Zoey Holland was entertaining the same warm, fuzzy feelings he’d begun to have himself. After all, she’d pulled away from him that morning when, for some absurd reason he still wasn’t able to understand, he’d tried to kiss her. And just a moment ago she’d removed her hand from beneath his. It didn’t take a fool to see that she wanted no part of him.

“What won’t happen overnight?” he asked.

“Jules sleeping through the night. It’s going to take time.”

He sighed wearily. “No kidding.”

Zoey studied him again, still looking anxious and confused. “You really do need to get some sleep,” she said. “Sleep deprivation can lead to all kinds of health problems, not to mention making people just plain crazy. There are places in this world where they use it as a torture technique, you know.”

“Well, I’m not likely to get much sleep anytime soon, am I?” he asked, suddenly feeling impatient for no good reason he could name.

“It really is unhealthy, the way you’ve been going. You should have gotten some help sooner.”

“I didn’t know who to ask.”

“You could have—” She abruptly stopped speaking and looked away.

“I could have what?”

She paused for a telling moment before continuing, “You could have asked one of the nurses in neonatal or pediatrics. Or one of the doctors. They would have been glad to help you out.”

“Would
you
have been glad to help me out?”

“I’m helping you now, aren’t I?”

“But are you glad to do it?”

When she looked at him again, he was amazed to see that she was smiling. “Yeah, as a matter of fact, I am,” she said, seeming as surprised by the revelation as he was. “It’s been a long time since I—” She stopped abruptly, and before he could ask her to elaborate, she added, “In fact, if you want me to spell you tonight, I’ll do it.”

“‘Spell’ me?”

“It doesn’t take a physician to see that you’re stretched way too thin here. You need to get some sleep before you kill yourself. Good sleep, for a change. If you want, I could stay here tonight and get up with Jules when she cries. That way you can sleep a solid eight or ten hours, whatever you need.”

Zoey wasn’t sure when or why she’d decided to make her proposal, especially since she hadn’t had much sleep in the past twenty-four hours herself. But once uttered, there was nothing she could do to take back the words. And if she were perfectly honest with herself, she’d admit that she didn’t want to rescind her offer. She’d had a great time caring for Jules that day, and had found her to be a wonderful little baby. Almost at once, she’d felt a certain kinship with the infant. They’d both lost their parents at an early age. They’d both been foisted off on relatives who didn’t want them.

What was truly remarkable, though, was that spending so much time with Juliana had touched off an instinctive reaction in Zoey that she hadn’t felt for a very long time. She would have thought the regeneration of that long-buried emotion, the love for a child who was well and truly a part of her past, would make her turn away from the responsibility of caring for another one. Instead, she found herself wanting to see a lot more of Juliana. It was just too bad that would also involve seeing more of Juliana’s uncle.

“You want to spend the night here?” Jonas asked. “With me?”

Zoey fought down the anger that bolted up her spine at his tone of voice, one that clearly indicated he understood her offer to be of a more personal—decidedly more sexual—nature. “Not with you,” she stated through gritted teeth. “With Jules. I’ll sleep in the nursery with her. Look, never mind—just forget I offered,” she added quickly, realizing what a terrible mistake she’d made in voicing her plan. “I think it would be better if I just went on home.”

It would be just like Jonas Tate to think she was using his niece as an excuse to get into his pants, she thought. The man’s ego was legendary, and she had witnessed for herself how he could turn even the most harmless situation into a sexually charged come-on. Without further comment, she gathered up her purse and went to the foyer closet to retrieve her parka. There was no way she was going to offer this jerk her assistance, even if his niece was a kindred spirit. She’d have to think of another way to help Juliana out. Like maybe running down her uncle with a New Jersey Transit bus.

“Zoey, wait,” Jonas said as she threw the closet door open. He flattened his hand against the door and slammed it shut again. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

“Didn’t you?” she asked without looking at him.

He hesitated for a moment before replying. “Okay, maybe I did mean it the way it sounded. But not really. Not the way you think.”

She kept her back to him, but felt the fight go out of her at the uncertain timbre of his voice. “I don’t understand you,” she said softly. “At the hospital, you treat me like I’m some kind of obstacle to be overcome. You berate me for the slightest thing, try to bully me for no reason and just generally make my working atmosphere hell. Now, suddenly, you’re...you’re...”

“I’m what?” he asked quietly from behind her.

She expelled an exasperated breath and swung quickly around to face him. When she did, she felt a soft tug on her hair and realized belatedly that Jonas had entwined a handful of the tresses between his fingers without her feeling it. Now he stood clutching her hair in his fist, stroking the shaft of burnt copper between his thumb and index finger as if it were a talisman of some kind. Yet he continued to stare at her face, as if he didn’t even realize he was performing the action.

She felt that caress in ever fiber of her being. For long moments, she could only watch the play of his fingers on her hair and wonder what his touch would feel like elsewhere on her body. A shudder of heat wound through her, moving from the ends of her hair to the tips of her toes and back again. Before that heat could consume her, she wrapped her own fingers around the length of hair he continued to stroke and pulled it carefully out of his grasp.

“Dammit, you...you’re
flirting
with me,” she whispered hoarsely, unable to muster any of the indignation she knew she should be feeling. She gathered her hair in both hands at her nape, then pulled the mass of red back over her shoulders and out of his reach. “Worse than that,” she went on weakly, “you’re propositioning me. Given our history of antagonism, it doesn’t make any sense.”

Much to her irritation, Jonas seemed not to hear what she had said. He just looked down at his empty hand as if she hadn’t removed the length of hair he’d held. Finally, however, he dropped his hand back to his side and lifted his head to gaze at her. Then, ever so slowly, he smiled at her accusation. Then he began to chuckle. And then, he began to laugh. Hard. More than almost anything else in the world, Zoey hated being laughed at. And the realization that it was Jonas who was doing the laughing only compounded her anger.

“What’s so funny?” she demanded.

“Propositioning
you?
” he asked through his laughter. “You must be out of your mind. A man would have to have a death wish to proposition you.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “Is that so?”

His laughter subsided some, but he continued to smile at her as he told her, “You bet it’s so. Unless he had some desire to lose a body part most men consider extremely important, no man in his right mind would even think of coming on to you.”

Zoey clamped her teeth together hard. “Oh, really?”

“Yes, really. Surely that’s no surprise to you.”

“Why wouldn’t I find it surprising that men fear for their manhood where I’m concerned?” she wanted to know. She thought it was a very good question.

He gaped at her, clearly stunned by her appalling lack of knowledge about herself. Zoey began to steam even more.

“Oh, come on. It’s common talk in every men’s room in the east wing.”