It's in His Touch (18 page)

“Each vaccine is in a different color box,” Ludy explained to Angelique, pointing to the portable cabinet pushed against one wall. Two rows of colorful boxes were lined up. Prefilled by the manufacturer, the syringes were tagged with the same color label as the box, so they were easily distinguishable.

Ludy walked to a row of cabinets across the room, grabbed two pairs of scrubs, and rejoined them at the station. “Here.” His stepmom handed one pair to Blake and one to Angelique.

Reluctantly, she reached for the worn blue hospital scrubs and shot a doubtful look at Blake. He gave her a slight nod and a reassuring blink of his eyes.

She took the scrubs.

“Thanks, Ludy.” Blake motioned for Angelique to follow him. “We’ll go change and be right back.”

Blake took Angelique’s elbow and led her down the hall to a back office. He closed and locked the door. Pulling his shirt over his head, he said, “The scrubs are sterile, and in case there’s a spill or a bleeder, your clothes won’t get ruined.” He tossed his shirt to the side and unbuttoned his pants. When he glanced at Angelique, her face had gone pale.

“What’s wrong?” He sat down on a chair to untie his hiking boots.

“There might be blood?” She swallowed hard.

He chuckled. “We’re just administering vaccines, not performing thoracic surgery. The blood will be miniscule, but it can get on your clothes if you’re not careful.”

With both boots off, he stood and unzipped his jeans. Angelique’s gaze followed their journey downward, and heat blazed to life in Blake’s chest. And his groin. He stopped the descent of his pants before revealing the incriminating evidence.

He motioned to the scrubs in her hand. “You have to change, too.”

“I . . . I’m not sure if I can help you with this.” She was still looking at his crotch.

“I’m pretty sure you can completely cure the problem I’ve got at the moment.”

Her gaze flew to his.

“But now isn’t the time.”

“I mean the vaccines!” Her face glowed a deep neon pink.

Sweet
. Nope, pink definitely wasn’t tacky.

“I’m not a nurse.”

Blake shook his head. “You’re just going to hand me cotton swabs and alcohol and dispose of the used syringes when I’m done. That’s it. Nothing that requires a license.” He slid his jeans all the way off and laid them across a chair. Her eyes caressed over him and grew even darker, cloudier, as though she liked what she saw.

He pulled on the scrub bottoms and sat to put his boots back on, but she still just stood there. With both boots tied, he rested his elbows on his knees and frowned at her.

“What’s wrong?”

“I can’t change in front of you.”

He chuckled. And frankly, seeing her so vulnerable, so out of her element, so unable to control the unfamiliar situation was potent and heady. “I’ve seen every inch of you already, babe.”

Her hand went to her chest. “We were in the dark, so you really didn’t
see
me.” She twirled her index finger in a circle, indicating for him to turn around.

He sighed. “All right.” He stood, grabbed the scrub top, and turned to face the wall.

“Thanks. And don’t call me
babe
.”

“Why not?”

She hesitated. “Because I find it . . .”

A turn on?

“. . . disturbing.”

He blew out a laugh. After cinching the drawstring at his waist, he pulled the scrub top over his head and listened to the rustling of fabric against skin as Angelique undressed and pulled on the scrubs.

“Okay, I’m ready,” she said, and Blake turned around.

From her onyx eyes, shimmering with uncertainty, to her black silky hair, all the way to her red polished toenails, Blake had never seen another living soul make a pair of worn-out old scrubs look so unbelievably stunning.

“All I have is UGG boots.” She rolled one bare foot onto its side and sucked her bottom lip between her teeth.

“I’m sure Ludy has something you can borrow.” He jerked the door open and charged through it to start the night’s work. It was either that or kiss her senseless right there in the back room of his dad’s clinic.

The bolt of yearning lodged in Angelique’s chest somewhere in the vicinity of her thumping heart grew larger with each little patient. Ludy led a young mother and her small boy into the exam cubicle and handed a file to Blake. The two-year-old’s arms clasped around his mother’s neck, he held on for dear life.

Angelique would never have a child of her own, clinging to her for security. The sting of loneliness smoldering inside her rose a notch as the parade of needy children continued through the evening.

Angelique showed the mom where to sit, and the boy’s eyes rounded. He snuggled into his mother’s embrace as Blake read his file.

Blake hadn’t just played her heartstrings like a violin. He’d conducted them like an entire orchestra. How could she possibly help take Blake away from the people who needed him so much? And to rob Blake of the sheer joy he so obviously gleaned from volunteering here would be almost criminal. There was no recognition, no accolades, no news cameras around to splash his selfless efforts across the tabloids like a philanthropic celebrity. As far as she could see, Blake didn’t ask for anything in return. Not one thing.

“This little guy needs the green one,” Blake said to Angelique, indicating which vaccine. “Green like a dinosaur.” He growled and waved two mock claws in the air, his elbows drawn into his body like a
T-Rex
. The two-year-old giggled while Angelique retrieved the syringe and a swab and handed both to Blake. His fingers closed around hers as he took them from her, and even through both of their latex gloves, a jolt of electricity shot up her arm, zinged through her chest, and tingled in the far reaches of her female anatomy.

Seated on a wheeled stool, he looked up at her, his own fevered reaction apparent in his eyes. Angelique turned back to the cabinet to grab a box of rubber finger puppets, the prize for each kid after the trauma of getting needled in their tiny arms and tushies. She cringed and nearly cried every time one of the tiny patients squalled from the stinging stick of a needle.

“Sorry, little guy, but this is going to pinch a little.” Blake swabbed the little cherub-faced boy’s arm and glanced at his mother. “Ready, Mom?”

The boy’s mother squeezed her son close and cooed into his ear. She nodded to Blake.

Capturing a fleshy part of the boy’s chubby arm, Blake administered the vaccine, and the toddler let out a squeal. “Sorry, buddy,” Blake said, rubbing the red mark on his arm with the swab. “It’s all over now. And you know what? I hope I have a little boy just like you someday.”

Angelique bristled because he’d said the same thing several times tonight. Each declaration of his desire for children had driven a nail deeper into Angelique’s heart.

Blake gave the mother a consoling smile. “He may get irritable for a few days. Give him lots of liquids and no sugar until he feels better.”

“Here you go, sweetie,” Angelique said, putting the box of finger puppets in front of him. “Why don’t you pick out two, since you’ve been our best patient.”

Of course she’d said that to every one of the kids who came into the clinic tonight. How could she not? Each one had been cuter than the last and softened her heart a little more every minute she’d spent at the clinic. Watching Blake shower each little patient with adoration had turned up the heat on the block of ice that used to be her heart. By the time the sixth busload of impoverished children had come and gone, so much love and compassion pumped through Angelique’s heart she thought it would burst.

Tears shimmering in the little boy’s eyes, he picked yellow and blue rubber toys and clutched them in his tiny hands like gold. His mother left with her son hiccupping over her shoulder.

“That was the last patient.” His stepmom came in from the waiting room. Ludy hadn’t slowed down the entire evening, and fatigue lines showed around her eyes. She set two bags on a chair. “Here are your clothes. Go on home. You’ve done enough for one night.”

“Are you sure you don’t need help cleaning up?” Blake asked, tossing the last used syringe into a red biohazard can.

Ludy shook her head decisively. “Your father and I can manage.”

Blake’s dad appeared in the doorway of the makeshift treatment station. “We’ll take care of it. I’ve disrupted enough of your evening.”

The elder Dr. Holloway slid a white doctor’s coat off, and Ludy took it from him, the two communicating with nearly imperceptible body language and able to anticipate the other’s thoughts and actions. A toasty sense of contentment slid through Angelique, making her long for the same thing with . . . her gaze swiveled to Blake, and her lungs locked.

“Thanks for your help,” said Ludy, placing lids on the boxes of leftover vaccines.

“Hopefully, this will contain the outbreak.” Dr. Holloway gave Blake a bear hug. “Dinner in a few weeks at our house?” He looked at Angelique. “Bring Angelique with you.”

“I . . . well . . .” Angelique looked from Dr. Holloway to Ludy, their expectant stares dealing the final blow to her thawing heart, and it puddled at her feet. “I’ll try. Thank you for the invitation.”

Blake’s face lit with pride, and a seed of hope sprang up from the depths of Angelique’s soul. A seed she knew would be choked by the bitter weeds that had already taken root there because of the things she could never have.

C
hapter
F
ifteen

Angelique spent most of the drive home deep in thought about the clinic, the people who needed Blake, especially the kids. They pulled up in back of Angelique’s cabin. The back porch light cast a glow over the back side of the house.

“I’ll walk you to the door.” Blake slid the gearshift into park and killed the engine.

She grabbed his forearm and held him in place.

“How is the clinic funded?” It was the first time she’d been able to speak since leaving the reservation. Completely overwhelmed by the selfless compassion Blake and his family showed to the children of a poor, obscure community long forgotten by . . . well, everyone, had rendered her speechless—a rare occurrence indeed. Angelique’s mind had raced at warp speed during the ride home, searching for words of praise, but everything seemed too shallow. And hypocritical.

Blake sighed, scrubbing a hand over his face. “There’s no short answer.”

“I want to know,” she murmured. “And now is the best time.”
It’s your last chance to state your case before I make ground meat out of your lawyer tomorrow.
And this might very well be the last night Blake would be willing to speak to her at all. Angelique found herself hoping Blake could change her mind. There was nothing she could do to stop the development company, even if she resigned from the case, but at least she wouldn’t have it on her conscience.

Her gaze raked over the beautiful man behind the wheel. Maybe she’d have Blake Holloway.

“Then I’m going to need a beer.” Blake gave her a half smile. “Would your parents mind?”

“They went back to Albuquerque. Nona had a doctor’s appointment.” She reached for the door handle. “It’s my cabin, anyway. I don’t have to ask their permission.”

They grabbed their bags of clothes from the backseat and let Sarge out. He shuffled outside, took care of business, and promptly trotted in carrying a stick between his teeth. Blake stood at the bar, and Sarge dropped the stick at his feet.

“Sorry, buddy, no playing fetch in the house.” Blake bent to scratch Sarge’s head.

Angelique retrieved two beer bottles from the fridge and shut it with a foot. “At least it’s not my—” She snapped her mouth shut, her cheeks burning. She found a bottle opener in a kitchen drawer and popped the tops.

Coming around the bar, she headed into the den and turned on a lamp. Blake followed her, and she handed him a bottle. They sank into the plush leather sofa, both exhausted from the long night’s work at the clinic.

“Cheers.” She held out her bottle, and Blake bumped longnecks with her before drawing on the icy contents.

“Want a fire?” Blake asked. “I could build one.”

Without a word, Angelique grabbed the remote off the side table, pointed it at the fireplace, and clicked a button. A gorgeous crackling fire instantly appeared.

Blake threw his head back and laughed. “You’re such a city girl.”

“Hey, I drive a four-wheel-drive SUV,” she said defensively, but really, she couldn’t disagree with him.

He gave her a sidelong look. “It’s a Lexus.”

“My firm wanted me to have convenience.” She shrugged.

Blake looked around. “They must’ve wanted you to have luxury, too. This place isn’t your average weekend cabin. It’s a house that could be lived in year-round.”

“So is yours.” She drew on her beer, the tension in her shoulders releasing a little more with each drink. “It’s just older than this one.”

“It’s good for a bachelor like me, but when I have a family, it won’t be big enough.”

She tensed. Stared at her bottle, mesmerized by the opaque brown glass. Of course he wanted a family. Kids. Something she could never give him.

“Did I say something wrong?” He tilted his head, trying to get her to look at him.

She shook her head, unable to force a smile. “No. Not at all.” No, wanting a family was perfectly understandable. The role of family man would fit him, and he’d probably slide right into it like a tailor-made suit once he found the right woman. A woman who wasn’t a walking health hazard with a malformed genetic code.

He studied her for a moment. Pulled on his bottle of beer again and swallowed. “The clinic is funded by a federal grant.”

Her head swiveled toward him.

He lifted a shoulder. “You wanted to know, so I’m telling you. The meds and supplies are paid for by the grant. Most of the tribes are reclusive. They won’t travel too far off the reservation for help, so we bring help to them.”

“So your dad and Ludy survive on their retirement savings?”

He nodded. “A modest retirement. Practicing in a small town like Red River is more of a calling than just a profession. It pays enough to live a decent life, maybe even provide for some extra luxury items. My dad put enough retirement away over the years to be moderately comfortable, but he’s by no means wealthy. That’s why I took out loans to pay my own way through med school.”

Her eyes flew wide. Her parents had footed the bill for everything. She walked out of UNM law school without a single debt. That was a big part of the reason she worked so hard at her job, to show her parents some gratitude and not take their help for granted.

“Dad offered to help with the costs, but I wouldn’t accept it.” He took another gulp of beer, set the bottle on the table, and slumped down into the posh leather to stare into the fire.

“And if your current office . . . ceases to exist?”

“The developers are offering us a fraction of what our businesses are worth. The amount won’t even cover the loan I took out to pay for the building and update the practice when I bought it. I won’t have the capital to open up somewhere else in town, plus I’ve still got student loans. I’ll be forced to move back to a big city where I can make some real money. I’ll be miserable, but at least I’ll be able to pay off my debts without declaring bankruptcy like most of the other business owners who are caught in the web. When the bank calls in their small business loans, most of Red River will fold. It was a brilliant plan by the developers, actually. And it’s working like a charm. The modicum of resistance we’ve been able to cultivate stands little chance against them. It’s a David and Goliath scenario.”

“David won, remember?” She wasn’t sure why she said it, but it just slipped out, and Blake turned a surprised look on her.

“And the clinic? How will all of this affect your dad’s free clinic?” Angelique dreaded the answer because she was pretty sure she already knew what would become of it. The tip of a very sharp invisible knife hovered at her chest.

He drew in a heavy sigh and folded one arm behind his head, his free hand resting on a muscled thigh. “The grant was based on both Dad and I offering our medical services. Volunteers are hard to come by anyway, so with me gone, he’ll likely lose the grant.”

The knife penetrated, sinking into her chest with a twist. “I’m . . . I’m sorry.”

His head rolled to the side, and his blue eyes stared into hers. He reached for her cheek and caressed it. His tender touch sent a shiver racing over her as his skilled fingers traced down her neck to outline her collarbone.

“Are you?” he murmured.

His touch quickened her breath. And those eyes. Those eyes made her heart skitter and skip. She nodded as his thumb found her lips and traced them. “Yes, I really am.”

And right in that moment, just this one last time, she wanted to be with him. Wanted him to transform her into a whole woman again with his sweet lovemaking. Just once more she wanted to feel him against her, in her, rocking her world.

His thumb made another circle around her lips, then rested on the bottom. She pulled the tip into her mouth and suckled.

A faint groan whispered through his lips. He laced a hand behind her neck and pulled her on top of him so she straddled his hips. His hardness pressed between her legs, and every bit of air squeezed from her lungs. Instinctively, she moved against him. Her insides liquefied as the friction of their hips moving in unison built to a seething volcano at her core and wrung a desperate gasp from her.

He pulled her mouth to his, but she pushed against his chest so their noses brushed.

“This is a bad idea.” She swallowed, trying to convince herself more than him. “I’m crossing some unprofessional boundaries.”

“Then let them get another attorney,” Blake whispered against her mouth.

“It won’t matter. The next attorney will win, too.”

“We’ll worry about that tomorrow.” He pulled Angelique into him and consumed her mouth with his.

She opened for him, and his tongue stroked over hers. Soft like velvet, but strong enough to crush her willpower into dust. Her fingers laced into his hair and pulled his head back, exposing his neck. Her mouth left his probing tongue, and she feathered kisses across his jawline to his ear. A nibble and a suckle of his earlobe made a guttural sound escape just before he sucked in a sharp breath.

One of his hands slid under her scrub top, kneading up her spine. The other cupped her butt and pulled her tighter against his hardness. They both let out a startled gasp.

Mouth open, breath ragged, she stared down at him.

“That’s what you do to me.” His words came out as a low growl. “Every time I see you, I want to take your clothes off and make love to you so hard and so long that you’ll never want another man but me.”

She wanted to say that there
was
no other man for her except him, but then his mouth was on hers again, his tongue commanding hers, his hands owning her body. His mouth dropped to her neck, and she wrapped both arms around him. Clutched him to her so the moment would be etched into her memory. So the feel of him would be imprinted on her mind forever. He covered her pebbled flesh with hot, wet kisses until she gave in to the power of his touch and let out a hushed sob of pleasure. He smiled against the sensitive skin where her neck met her shoulder.

Grabbing for his scrub top, she tried to pull it over his head. Impatient and desperate to touch him, she reached for the drawstring around his waist. He laughed and held her hand still.

“We need to shower first.”

Her brow furrowed, her breathing heavy with desire.

“We’ve been seeing patients. It’s more hygienic if we wash off.” Grabbing her by the hips, he stood her on both feet and took her hand. “Where’s your room?”

She pointed to the loft. “I . . . You go first.”

With a shake of his head, he pulled her against him. “I was hoping we could shower together.”

Resting her head against his shoulder, she stared into the fire. “Can the lights be off?” Her voice cracked, and her words sounded meek. She hated meek. It was just a more polite way of saying weak.

He stroked her hair and placed a gentle kiss into it. “If you want, but I’ve got a better idea.”

She listened to the strum of his heartbeat under her ear. It soothed and steadied her.

“Do you trust me?” he murmured.

She did. Her head bobbed up and down. “I shouldn’t. Not after the way you’ve used my panties against me, but I do.”

“Then let’s go upstairs.”

Blake took off his scrub shirt and laid it on a chair by the fireplace in Angelique’s room. Her master suite consumed the entire loft. A large seating area in front of a gas log fireplace—he stifled an eye roll—gigantic king-size bed, and a bathroom almost as big as his den.

Steam and the scent of vanilla began to filter from the bathroom, where he’d instructed Angelique to get in the shower and turn toward the wall before he got in. He blew out a breath. She was so beautiful. So damn beautiful that it hurt to look at her sometimes, especially when he couldn’t touch her. That she was still so self-conscious about her body made his chest ache.

A few of Blake’s patients had gone through breast cancer. They’d dealt with the fear that it would reoccur, the self-image doubts it created in a woman’s psyche. Some suffered problems with intimacy afterward, most struggled in some way or another for a time. A small percentage never recovered emotionally. It had to be all the more difficult for a young, beautiful woman like Angelique who still had so much life left to experience.

Sitting on the loveseat, he tugged off his boots and socks, then stood to pull off the rest of his clothes.