One Night with the Doctor (5 page)

A lump formed in Poppy’s throat, but she determinedly swallowed past it. “The point is, when I discovered his infidelity, I had every STD test known to man. I haven’t been with anyone since.”

When her gaze landed on Ben, he seemed to understand she needed a similar assurance. “I’m clean, too.”

Poppy nodded. Though Ben had a reputation for being arrogant, he also was known as a straight shooter. If he said he was clean, she could accept his word.

“Still, we’ll use condoms,” he said, as if anticipating her next request.

She looked over his shoulder, to all the couples laughing and talking with the ones they loved.
Is this what my life has come to?

Before Poppy let herself become maudlin, she reminded herself she’d already tried the traditional route. Where had
that
gotten her?

“No reason to take chances,” he added when she didn’t respond.

“But we are taking a chance.” Poppy chewed on her lower lip. “Making lov—er having sex, is not the same as getting together with someone on the golf course. Heck, we could both be duds.”

Poppy thought back to all those romantic evenings she’d planned that had ended up falling flat. Her heart twisted. No, she couldn’t make any guarantees in that area.

Benedict shot her a wink. “I’m not worried.”

Well, that made one of them.

Poppy grabbed her bag. “We might as well get started.”

She’d show him that she could be as spontaneous and as good in bed as the next woman.

His smile widened at her businesslike tone. “Might as well.”

“We can meet at your house. I’ll need your address.” This way if things went south, she could simply walk out the door, instead of having to kick him out of her place.

His eyes met hers and her body began to tremble.

“When it’s done, we walk away and never speak of this night again.” Dear God, had those words actually come from her mouth?

Ben’s look never wavered. “If that’s how you want it.”

Poppy stared into his eyes and felt her heart flip-flop. Had she really just negotiated the terms of a one-night stand? Yeah, spontaneity was definitely her middle name. “I’m sure some would call the arrangement cold-blooded.”

“I’ve never set much stock by what others say,” Ben said in that easy, confident way of his. “And we both know what’s simmering between us right now is anything but cold.”

Whether it was the wine, the teasing glint in his eyes or simply the relief at having the details worked out, Poppy laughed and did what she’d wanted to do all evening.

Leaning forward, she skimmed a finger down his cheek then kissed him full on the mouth. A heat hot enough to melt Alaska speared through her.

“Not cold.” Her lips curved in a satisfied smile as she pulled back. “Not cold at all.”

Chapter Five

O
n this night for romance the only tunes flowing from the radio in Poppy’s bright red Ford Fiesta were love songs. As Luther wailed about the power of the most basic of emotions, Poppy watched Ben’s sleek black sedan reach the edge of Jackson and turn west.

After carefully looking both ways, she turned onto the highway behind him and thought not of love, but of sex. Hot, quick and steamy. A shiver of anticipation coursed up her spine as she followed his Mercedes down the dark ribbon of asphalt toward the quiet residential area just outside of Jackson.

Though she hadn’t seen his home, she was prepared to be impressed. Willowbrook boasted three-acre lots, an amazing view of Grand Teton and a plethora of native birds and animals.

When Ben turned into a driveway and motion lights flicked on, Poppy slowed her own vehicle and gaped. The surrounding wilderness provided a perfect backdrop for the two-story home with its dramatic stone entry.

A large expanse of winter white flowed like a blanket to the street. Perfectly landscaped trees and bushes pushed through pristine snow. As stunning as it was now, Poppy could only imagine how beautiful the yard would be in a few months when the trees were green and flowers and bushes in full bloom.

One of the garage doors slid smoothly up and Ben eased his car into the opening. Almost immediately, a second rose.

Poppy hesitated only an instant before pulling inside. She supposed it made sense to have her vehicle under wraps. No sense advertising to the neighbors he was “entertaining.” The door slid silently down as Poppy stepped from her car to the sound of staccato barks coming from inside the house.

Ben glanced over the top of her car, a question in his eyes. “I should have asked before now if you’re allergic to dogs.”

When she shook her head, relief crossed his face.

“Angela was leaving at five so he’s been alone for several hours.” As the barking continued, Ben glanced in the direction of the door. “Don’t let that racket worry you. Groucho loves people.”

Poppy heard fondness in his tone. She assumed Groucho was the dog. But the woman’s identity—and her relationship to Ben—remained a mystery. “Who’s Angela?”

“My housekeeper.” He waited while Poppy rounded the front of her car. “She cooks, cleans and takes care of Groucho.”

Does she also take care of you?
Poppy wondered, then immediately reminded herself
that
information was none of her business. Still, she was curious.

“How long has she worked for you?” Her voice came out casual and offhand, just as she intended.

“Five years.” They crossed a spotless garage floor to the door leading inside the house, his hand resting lightly against her back. “Her days and hours vary, depending on my schedule. I appreciate the fact she’s flexible.”

He keyed in a few numbers to unlock a security system then pushed open a door, stepping aside to let Poppy enter.

“Groucho, sit,” Ben called from behind her, and the small silver-and-black schnauzer dropped midleap to sit at her feet.

The dog’s entire body wiggled as if filled with a bag of jumping beans. His beautiful dark eyes shifted from Benedict to Poppy. A whine hummed from the back of his throat.

Benedict squatted down and picked up the dog, giving him an affectionate hug, scrubbing his hand across the top of the furry head. “How’s my boy?”

Groucho responded by licking his neck, bringing a laugh to Benedict’s lips. “Yeah, I’m happy to see you, too.”

He turned the animal in his arms, tucking him securely against his body. “Poppy, this is Groucho. He’s only two, so he still has lots of puppy in him.”

Poppy tentatively stroked the dog’s fur and received her own appreciative lick on the hand. “He’s a handsome boy.”

“I think so.” Grabbing a leash from a rack, Benedict clipped it to the dog’s red collar and placed him on the floor. He shot Poppy an apologetic look. “I should take him outside for a few minutes.”

“I’ll come with you.” While she stood on the sidewalk alongside the garage, Ben let Groucho check out various trees and bushes. “It surprises me you have a dog.”

He looked mildly amused. “Why is that?”

“For starters, you’re a busy man.”

“There’s more to life than practicing medicine.” Ben gestured toward the animal inspecting a small bush shaped like a globe. “He was found abandoned out on Route 22, near Brown’s curve, when he was six months old. His leg and a couple ribs were fractured.”

Poppy’s breath caught. She brought a hand to her chest. “He’d been hit by a car?”

“He’d been hit.” Benedict’s lips thinned. “But not by a vehicle.”

“Someone hurt then dumped him?” Anger warred with the shock in her voice.

“That’s how it appeared.” For a second Ben’s eyes flashed then he lifted a shoulder. “Anyway, a friend at the animal shelter told me about him. He needed a home. I had one.”

The dog appeared content and happy as he wandered from bush to bush. It was difficult to imagine he’d had such a rough beginning. As if aware of her sympathy, Groucho looked over his shoulder at her and wagged his tail.

“I bet he misses you during the day.”

“Sometimes.” Ben chuckled. “Other times I don’t think he notices...or cares. Especially on the days Angela brings her granddaughter with her. He’s crazy about kids.”

Poppy wasn’t sure what surprised her most. That the woman she’d envisioned as a dark-haired temptress was a grandmother or that the doctor could be so accommodating. “You don’t mind her bringing a child with her while she’s working?”

“Why should I?” Puzzlement filled his gray eyes. “Liliana is well-behaved. And, as I said, Angela is flexible so I try to be, too.”

Though Ben acted as if the concession was no big deal, Poppy knew it would have been a different story at her New York penthouse. Her ex obviously hadn’t minded stealing their housekeeper away from her duties for sex, but he’d have been horrified if she’d ever had the temerity to ask to bring her child with her to work.

“Looks like he’s ready to head inside,” Ben announced.

Instead of reentering the home through the garage, Ben steered her toward the front door. While he put away the leash and wiped Groucho’s feet in the entryway, Poppy’s curiosity propelled her farther into the house.

With its amber-colored walls, massive stone fireplace and intricately woven rugs on shiny hardwood, the large room with the soaring ceilings had a surprisingly cozy feel.

Feet now clean and dry, the dog padded across the room to hop onto a leather sofa. After rearranging a navy blanket into a makeshift nest, he settled down to gnaw contently on a small green bone.

Ben hung up their coats before he returned to her side. “Can I interest you in a tour?”

The gleam shimmering in his eyes told her exactly what room he’d like to show her.

Poppy shivered.

“Cold?” He captured her hand and brought her fingers to his lips. “Let’s see if I can warm you up.”

With brilliant gray eyes focused on hers, he kissed each finger lightly then pressed a kiss into her palm.

A sizzle of electricity shot up her arm. Heat flooded her body.

Ah, yes. This was the reason she was here—with him—this evening.

“I’d love to see your—” she paused and offered him what she hoped was an enigmatic smile “—the rest of your lovely home.”

Ben took her hand. “Come with me.”

With his fingers laced loosely through hers, he took her through a state-of-the-art kitchen with commercial grade appliances and enough cabinet space to make her drool. She was still thinking that those cupboards could hold anything an aspiring gourmet cook could ever want when Ben ushered her down the hall to show her several bedrooms, bathrooms and his home office. Then they headed up the curving stairs to the second level.

The suite that encompassed most of the upper floor was clearly designed for comfort. Especially if one equated comfort with space. There was a bed the size of Wyoming and a sitting area large enough to hold a couple of neighboring states, as well.

Conscious of Benedict’s perusal, Poppy strolled past a desk with triple screen monitors to peer into a closet with enough clothes and shoes to fill a small department store. But in her mind, next to the magnificent bed, the pièce de résistance was the bathroom.

With a wealth of natural lighting, sleek stone floor and a shower with knobs and spray heads reminding her of a car wash, the luxury—and the decadence of it all—stole her breath.

“That—” Poppy gestured toward the glass-enclosed shower big enough for a party of five “—is a fantasyland. If I got in there to play, you’d never get me out.”

His gaze slid slowly over her and she got the distinct feeling he was imagining her inside those glass walls...naked.

Her skin prickled. She wondered if he suspected she’d been envisioning him in there with her, also sans clothes.

Turning back to the sitting area with its arched window and massive stone fireplace, Poppy stepped toward the warmth and held out her hands.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Groucho bound into the room and make a beeline for a dog pillow next to the desk, a tiny green bone sticking out of his mouth.

Ben gestured toward a long sofa in muted peach. “Would you like some wine?”

Though a nice glass of red sounded good, more alcohol was the last thing Poppy needed. If she was going to have sex, she’d at least like to remember it. With more than a little regret, she shook her head.

Ben moved close, his hand cupping the back of her neck. “You’re right. We have something more pressing on the agenda.”

His mouth closed over hers with a hunger that made her heart stutter. Still, he didn’t rush. As if they had all the time in the world, he continued to kiss her, slow, leisurely kisses that stoked the fire in her belly.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his lips against her hair, his arms strong around her.

Breathing in the spicy scent of him, Poppy reveled in the warmth of his embrace. She raked her fingers through his thick dark strands and found them soft as silk. “You’re kind of pretty yourself.”

The corner of his mouth twitched. He laughed softly, a deep rumbling sound that pleased her.

“I’m not exactly sure what I’m doing,” she whispered, then paused, not sure what else to say.

“Tonight we’ll be lovers.” With one finger he gently brushed back a lock of her hair that had tumbled from its glittery clip.

“Yes,” she answered, her voice as unsteady as her heartbeat. “Yes, we will.”

“It’s been a while for you.” He spoke softly.

“After my divorce I swore off men.” Poppy stepped from his arms and took a seat on the sofa, smoothing her skirt with a sweaty palm.

“What made you change your mind?” Ben took a seat next to her.

“You.”

Time seemed to stretch and extend.

“That’s flattering.”

“For whatever reason, you brought those long-buried desires back to the surface.” Though heat rose up her neck, Poppy refused to be embarrassed. “I hope I made it clear I’m not looking for a relationship.”

He opened his mouth then closed it without speaking.

“For me that’s a big part of the draw,” she added.

His brows pulled together. “Draw?”

“I overthink everything. But not tonight. I’m going with the moment, being spontaneous.” Poppy took a deep breath then let it out slowly.

When he only continued to stare, she felt compelled to fill the void.

“It’s been a long time since sex was fun,” she murmured almost defensively.

The moment her eyes touched his, something inside her seemed to lock into place and she couldn’t look away. Sensation licked up her arm, down to her breasts to pool between her thighs. Abruptly Poppy stood, kicked off her shoes and began to unbutton her dress. “Let’s do it.”

He laughed again, this time a full-bodied laugh that relaxed the lines in his face. Pulling himself to his feet, his fingers closed over her hand. “What’s the rush? We have all night.”

She stilled. “I never agreed to stay over.”

His hesitation was so brief, it was barely noticeable. “It’s a figure of speech.”

“Oh.”

“I simply meant there is no reason we can’t take our time.” He gestured toward the hearth. “Enjoy the fire. Enjoy each other.”

Poppy understood. While she found nothing objectionable with the sentiment, she worried taking so much time would make the act more intimate. More like lovemaking. Less like a fun, no-strings romp. “I’d rather get down to business.”

Those silvery eyes studied her for several heartbeats before his lips curved and he tugged her to him.

His mouth closed over hers, hot and searing. The taste of him pushed any lingering misgivings far, far away. Doubts had no place here. Not tonight. If she ended up with regrets, she’d deal with them tomorrow. For now she would savor and enjoy.

Poppy couldn’t quite remember ever being kissed like this, deep hungry kisses that shot fire to her belly. His hands were everywhere, unfastening buttons and zippers, his mouth voracious on hers. When Poppy came up for air, they were on the bed and naked.

Apparently he wasn’t
really
interested in taking things slow. Her lips curved as she ran her hand down his chest toward the evidence of his desire.

He clamped his hand around her wrist.

“Not so fast,” he warned, with a half laugh. “Or this will be over before it has barely begun.”

Inclining her head, Poppy batted her lashes. “Don’t tell me you have only one condom?”

He grinned. “Darlin’, I have a whole boxful.”

Relief mixed with alarm. A
boxful?

With a laugh, he rolled on top of her and fastened his mouth to hers. His fingers teased her nipples to hardened buds before his mouth lowered to replace his hand. The warmth in her lower belly turned fiery hot and became a pulsating need.

She squirmed, pressing her hips upward, wanting more of him. When his hand slipped between them to cup her and one finger slid inside, she moaned. “Please.”

Though his breath grew ragged, he didn’t rush. His mouth caressed her neck, trailing love bites upward as his hands stroked and kneaded and caressed.