The Family Doctor (14 page)

Kate did a down-and-dirty survey. The woman wore an ankle-length red dress, bias cut, that fitted close around a tiny waist, emphasized generous breasts and narrow hips and then flared out provocatively at the hem. Over it was a tiny cropped purple silk jacket. The dramatic colors suited her mass of coal-black curls and perfect heart-shaped face.

Damn it all to hell, she was more than pretty. She was beautiful.

And now she was swaying across the room on her stiletto heels, her hand on Tony's arm, making straight toward the table where Kate waited, lips forced into a wide, welcoming smile. What had ever made her think listening to jazz was a good idea?

“Kate Lewis,” Tony was saying. “This is Sandy Solem, an old friend. She used to sing at the jazz club in Vancouver when I was sitting in with the band.”

Kate put out her hand and Sandy took it. Her palm was warm, and she squeezed Kate's hand in a friendly gesture. “Happy to meet you, Kate.” Her voice was low and throaty. “Antony tells me you work at St. Joe's. What do you do?”

Antony?
Kate explained her job briefly.

The other woman listened, then said with a warm
smile, “So you keep peace between all the warring factions, have I got that right?”

“That's the idea,” Kate said, feeling more comfortable. Sandy was obviously making an effort. “I don't always manage it, but I try.”

“There's times the band could use your services,” Sandy said, wrinkling her nose. “As we speak there's a bloody feud going on between the drummer and the new guy on the horn. And speaking of the band, looks like I'd better get back.”

The musicians were lifting their instruments.

Sandy leaned over, and Kate heard her say close to Tony's ear, “If you're still around when the next set's done, I'd love to have a drink with you.”

She was gone before Tony could answer. He reached across and took Kate's hand, linking his fingers with hers and giving a reassuring squeeze.

“I had no idea Sandy was touring with these guys.”

The music began, and when Sandy began to sing, Kate was mesmerized in spite of herself. The woman's voice was a riveting combination of little-girl innocence and womanly seduction, a teasing and insinuating lilt that brought an involuntary smile to the faces of her listeners. She had range and power, and she commanded attention, even in this noisy atmosphere.

Kate glanced at Tony, thinking that he and every other man in the room must be captivated by the
tiny bombshell with the huge voice. But Tony wasn't looking at Sandy. He was looking at her.

“Dance?” He got to his feet at her nod and guided her to the small, crowded dance floor. As she moved with him to the music, at first tentatively and then with growing confidence and pleasure, Kate wondered for a moment if there was something incestuous in dancing with him to a torchy song sung by a woman she strongly suspected had been his lover at some point.

But soon the pleasure of being in his arms blotted out any concerns. Their bodies were in perfect synch, and together they floated from one rhythm straight into the next. By the time the band took their next break, Kate was totally relaxed, and when Sandy came over and sat down, Kate told her how much she'd enjoyed her singing.

“Thank you.” There was something both humble and shy in the acknowledgement. “It's what I was born to do, I guess.”

“Do you want a drink, Sandy?” Tony asked.

“Soda water, please.”

Leaving the two women alone, Tony made his way to the bar.

Sandy lit a cigarette. Her lovely face was thoughtful as she tapped ash into a napkin with perfectly manicured fingers. “You've got good taste. So is it serious between you two?”

Kate felt her face grow hot. Sandy was nothing if not direct, but she had no right to ask such a
personal question. Kate opened her mouth to say that she and Tony were just friends, but instead heard herself confess, “I don't know. Too soon to tell.”

“Antony's a great guy, but I guess you've figured that out.” Sandy drew on her cigarette and blew the smoke out slowly. “We went out a couple times, but then he met Jessica.” She laughed. “She snatched him out of my clutches.”

“You know her?” Kate felt her earlier curiosity about Tony's ex resurface.

“Sure, we're friends. Jazz is a small world, everybody knows everybody. I was at their wedding. They were hot together, those two. But it couldn't last, they were going in different directions. He was way too settled for her—their kid was really all they had in common. I saw McKensy once when she was staying with Jessica. She's a crackerjack, isn't she?” There was something brittle in Sandy's voice.

“She really is.” Kate wondered where this was going.

“You got kids, Kate?”

“A stepdaughter, same age as McKensy. What about you, Sandy?”

“Nope.” The other woman shook her head and changed the subject. “From what I hear, Antony and Jessica stayed friends after they split. I wish I could say that about even one of my exes.” Sandy
grinned. “How about you, Kate? You got any you stayed buddies with?”

“Not really.” She certainly didn't consider Scott a buddy. What was taking Tony so long? What would this woman say next?

When it came, it touched Kate's heart.

“I hope it works out for you two. Antony was there for me once when I needed him. I'd like to see him get lucky, and you look like the kind of steady lady that could manage that.”

Tony was now heading back to the table with a tray of drinks. He handed Kate a fresh glass of wine and placed soda water in front of Sandy. She raised it in a toast. “Another day sober. One at a time seems to work.”

The band assembled and Sandy joined them.

When she began to sing again, Kate leaned over to Tony. “She had a drinking problem?”

Tony nodded. “Major. She's had a tough life. Her little boy, Zachary, died in a motel fire. After that she started drinking.”

“That's terrible.” Kate shuddered. “How old was he?”

“Four. He'd be nine now.”

McKensy's age. Eliza's age.
Kate understood now why Sandy had sounded brittle. Sympathy welled up inside of her.

They danced again, but he noticed when she yawned, once and then again. “Would you like to go, or just fall asleep here in my arms?”

Oh, the temptation. “I guess we'd better go.”

He called a cab, and with a wave to Sandy, they left.

Tony was quiet in the cab, and then he said, “I've always been grateful to Sandy.”

“Why's that?”

“It was because of what happened to Zachary that Jessica didn't fight me for custody. Sandy had her son with her, traveling from one gig to the next. He was asleep, and she raced out for milk. The fire was an accident, but she blamed herself. She figured if she'd left him home with her family, the way her mother wanted, he wouldn't have died. She made Jessica see that being on the road was no life for McKensy.”

“It must be lonely for her.”

“There're a lot of ways to be lonely.”

The matter-of-fact way he said it touched a chord deep inside her.

“She said you were there for her when she needed you.”

His shoulder moved under her head in a noncommittal shrug.

“She called me once when she was low. I did what I could. What anybody would have done.”

He didn't say anything else, and Kate didn't ask. He was a good, kind man, a fine father. And he needed a steady woman, Sandy had said. Someone like Kate—though steady was the exact opposite of the way her body was reacting to him right now.

He sighed and looped his arm tighter around her shoulders, every so often giving her an affectionate squeeze. It felt companionable, but it also felt sexy. She rested her head back against his arm.

At the hotel, Tony paid the cab and the doorman greeted them. As they rode up in the mirrored elevator, it felt to Kate as if days had passed since they'd last looked at themselves in this mirror, but she didn't say anything.

They walked along the corridor in silence, her hand in his, her heart hammering with anticipation.

At her door, Kate had to fumble in her bag for her access card. When she retrieved it, she turned to thank Tony for the evening, and found herself in his arms. She drew in a shaky breath and slid her hands around his back, aware of hard muscles under expensive tailoring, the intoxicating smell of clean man and lemony aftershave and heat and desire. She moved farther into his embrace and tilted her head up to make it easy for him.

Man, was he adept at kissing. She kissed him back and couldn't help wondering if he was just as good at the rest of it.
Better,
her brain suggested.
More room for imagination. More space for invention.

And as the kiss deepened and her heartbeat increased, she knew she had to make a decision. Should she ask him in? She'd fantasized for so long about making love with him, and now was her
chance. But the fantasy had always been raunchy, sexy, fun—and devoid of tomorrows.

Now that the opportunity was here, she found she wasn't at all sure she could do it. He'd become so much more than a gorgeous, unattainable body. He was Tony, father, ex-husband, co-worker, friend to women in need. He was a man who intrigued her, made her laugh, touched her heart with his thoughtfulness. He was a guy she could fall in love with so easily, and he'd made it all too clear that he wasn't looking for a life partner.

Well, neither was she, another part of her brain argued. Why not take pleasure when it was offered?

They were alone together in a hotel far away from Vancouver. They enjoyed each other's company, they laughed at each other's jokes, and if the looks he'd been giving her all evening meant anything at all, he found her appealing and sexy.

What did she have to lose?

Only your heart, idiot.
Kate already had feelings for him that went beyond simple lust. She'd have to work with him afterward, probably for a very long time. Neither of them was planning on retiring anytime soon. She'd see him every day, she'd have to hide her feelings from him, she'd have to constantly pretend. She'd have to lie, and she hated lying.

If only he was a stranger. If only he wasn't, technically at least, her boss. She wanted to tell him it wasn't false morality or lack of wanting that made
her pull away gently and give her head a negative shake, but she didn't trust her voice.

He got it. He sighed, put his forehead against hers for a moment, and then stepped reluctantly back.

“'Night, Kate.”

“'Night, Tony.” She felt as if she was choking. “Thank you for a great evening.”

“Want to go for a long walk in the morning down by the river?”

“Absolutely.”
Not.
She knew exactly what she'd love to do with him in the morning, but it was too late. She'd burned her bridges.

“See you at six, then.”

“Six. Right.” She gave him a peppy smile, and when the door closed behind her, she slumped to the carpet, beat her fists and wondered if there were rules against screaming after midnight.

What was wrong with her head? Instead of sleeping in his arms, she'd be dragging her backside out of bed before dawn just to go for a walk. Instead of finding out whether or not his kissing ability extended beyond her mouth and neck, she'd be cuddling a lousy pillow that had been sanitized for her protection.

Idiot.
She got to her feet and stripped her clothes off. What a waste, the black lace thong and garter belt, the lace-top stockings.

Kate spent the whole restless night wondering
why she'd been such a fool, and vowing that if the opportunity came again, she'd jump his bones.

Anywhere, anytime. Well, maybe not on the walk first thing in the morning. It was already the middle of the night, and she'd probably only get to sleep half an hour before she had to get up. She wouldn't have energy for anything except putting one reluctant foot in front of the other.

Tomorrow night, though.
If he didn't make a move on her again, she'd take matters into her own hands tomorrow night. Figuratively speaking, of course. Well, maybe not so figuratively. She thought of his long, lean body and groaned aloud.

 

T
ONY KICKED OFF HIS SHOES
in disgust. It had been a stupid, idiotic thing to do, taking her to the jazz club. He hadn't thought of Sandy in a long time, hadn't dreamed she'd be singing with that particular band, here in Edmonton, of all places.

He sent his shoes skittering across the rug and tugged off his suit coat and vest. If only he had the evening to do over again, he thought, throwing himself down on the bed. Meeting Sandy had brought up stuff that wasn't exactly romantic. Now all his fantasies about making love to Kate and staying in bed with her all morning and ordering champagne from room service were just that—fantasies.

Lucky thing he'd packed a mystery novel. He dug it out, but soon found that serial murder was cold comfort in the king-size bed.

I
T WAS BARELY DAWN
.
The sun was a red bulge on the edge of the prairie.

“
This
is how we get to the walking path?” Kate looked at the wooden steps that led down to the river winding peacefully along the valley floor. Her heart sank, and she couldn't force herself to sound enthusiastic. “Omigod, there must be a hundred of them.” She couldn't keep the hopeful note out of her voice. “Are you sure your ankle's strong enough?”

She prayed that he'd say it wasn't. She longed to crawl back into the warmth and comfort of her bed and snooze away the next two hours. And even in its sleep-deprived state, her brain reasoned that what went down would have to come up again. Would her exhausted body survive climbing this stair mountain again? Was there taxi service back up?

“Best thing for my ankle,” Tony declared, barely leaning on the railing as he started down. “And just out of curiosity, I asked at the desk—there's a hundred and twenty-four steps down to the water.”

He'd already conquered twelve.

“Just going down and then coming back up is great exercise,” he declared. “C'mon, that sun's going to be up in a few minutes, we'll get a fantastic view from the rest area down there.”

She had a choice, Kate reminded herself. One always had a choice.

She could confess that she'd been lying all along, that she wasn't really a jock at all, and her idea of exercise at this hour involved raising her head from a goose-down pillow to squint at the clock.

If she did that, he'd go walking by himself. She'd miss out on two hours of his company, during which she planned to wangle another dinner invitation, after which she hoped to maneuver him into her room and into a prone position. She had only one night left to do it; they were booked out on a plane early Sunday morning.

There was no way around it. To get to dinner from here she had to go down. Summoning up every reserve in her reluctant body, she put one foot in front of the other.

 

“Y
OU SHOULD HAVE TOLD ME
you had a trick knee.” Tony was puffing hard, and she could feel the sweat dampening the arm he had firmly locked around her waist. They negotiated another step, and another.

Kate leaned on him, heart hammering as they finally reached the top and staggered through the
side entrance of the hotel. Was it the painful climb back up the steps, or was it being clamped against his side that made every pulse in her body flutter?

Whatever, she wasn't feeling at all disheartened, even though her right knee was on fire. Truth was, she welcomed the pain. Now she had a legitimate sports injury that was going to necessitate taking it easy for the rest of the day, thanks be to the god of sloth.

“I'd forgotten about that knee. It hasn't bothered me for years.” She tried not to sound cheerful. Truth was, she'd avoided anything that might aggravate it, like exercise, ever since the time in high school when that manic phys ed teacher had forced the class to climb rope ladders up to the ceiling of the gym. And there weren't half as many steps on the rope ladder as there were leading down to that cursed river, either.

“I had no idea those steps would irritate it.”

“Let's get you up to your room and have a look at it. I'll call housekeeping to bring some ice.”

God, he was strong. His arm was like an iron vise around her waist, and even with his weakened ankle he had no problem supporting her.

They got on the elevator, and he kept his arm where it was. She leaned into him and sniffed in the wonderful heady aroma of male sweat. Why hadn't anyone thought to bottle it? Although not just any male sweat would do, she suspected; she'd
breathed in plenty during her years as a nurse, and none till now had done the trick.

They looked so good together. The mirror reflected the two of them, both in shorts and tank tops, trainers and sweatbands. Her hair was mussed, his chin had more than a faint shadow of beard.

The bell dinged and she yelped when she tried to step off the elevator. He half carried her down the hall.

“Where's your room card?”

“I put it in my shoe so I wouldn't lose it. Oww.” She attempted to bend her knee and reach her foot, but the knee wasn't cooperating.

“I'll get it. Which foot?”

“Right.”

“Okay. Just stand on one foot like this.” He propped her against the corridor wall and knelt in front of her, undoing her shoe.

She looked down at the top of his head, admiring the way his hair swirled in a double crown. He eased her foot out of her shoe and she prayed that her foot didn't stink. The trainers were the new ones she'd bought to go walking with him, but she'd sweated into them.

He retrieved the key card, picked up her shoe, slid the card into the door and smoothly drew her inside, guiding her over to the unmade bed and easing her down.

“Oww.” Her knee hurt like fury when she bent it.

“Slide back on the bed, we'll elevate it.”

She did, and he unlaced her other shoe and pulled it off, then stuck several pillows under her leg. Although she'd had her share of fantasies about Tony in her bed, they'd involved areas other than her knee. She was pleased to see that the short peach satin nightgown she'd worn last night had attracted his attention. She'd tossed it onto the end of the bed, and from the long look he was giving it, she hoped he was imagining it on her body.

This was good, Kate mused. It was delicious to lie flat on her back and watch him fantasize.

Clearing his throat, he picked up the phone and asked for ice to be delivered, then hung up and said to Kate in a professional tone, “You should have X rays done when we get back to St. Joe's. It might help to find out exactly what the problem is.”

“This from the same man who slipped on a wrapper and ended up on a respirator?” Kate was thoroughly enjoying having him fuss over her.

He gave her a wry look. “I have it on good authority that that fiasco was a series of mistakes and won't happen again. The system is improved.”

A knock on the door signaled the ice had arrived. Tony thanked the lady from housekeeping, filled a plastic laundry bag from the closet and put it across her knee.

“Yikes, that's
freezing.
” She shivered and grabbed for a blanket, tugging it over her upper
body. “How about ordering a pot of coffee from room service? In fact, why not order breakfast?”

“Good idea.” He found the room service menu on the dresser and handed it to her. “What would you like?”

You'd do.
She gave him what she hoped was a provocative look and then studied the menu. “Hash browns, eggs, fruit. Toast. How about you?”

“The same, with bacon.”

She tossed the menu on the bed. Once again, he picked up the phone and placed their order.

“This is dripping.” It wasn't, but the ice was creating more pain than the knee injury itself. She reached down and took the bag off.

“Here, let me put it in the sink.” He did, and then he said without quite meeting her eyes, “Do you think massage might help?”

She swallowed. Finally, maybe, he was getting the message. “I'm not sure,” she said in a breathy tone. “Why not try it and I'll see?” Why hadn't she thought of this before? She tossed the blanket to one side.

Once he'd taken off his shoes, he knelt on the bed beside her. His runner's legs were corded with muscle, and she wondered what he had on under the rugby shorts he wore. Probably nothing. Those things had liners, didn't they? She gulped. His large hands began to rub back and forth across her knee.

“Your skin is freezing.”

Maybe outside. Inside, she was burning up.

“Ooh,” she moaned. “That feels so good.” His hands felt hot. His fingers were strong, and he applied just the right amount of pressure, stroking back and forth gently and rhythmically. “Don't stop.”

“Where's it hurting the most?”

Not in her knee anymore, but farther up. And it wasn't exactly a hurt. It was more like a fiery ache.

She managed to croak, “Right there, where you're rubbing, that's perfect.”

There was a huge bulge developing at the front of his running shorts that assured her she wasn't alone in what she was feeling. Their eyes locked, and his fingers slowed and became still. Then, tentatively, and lightly, he touched the skin on the inner side of her thigh, and Kate melted. She took his hand, guiding it up to her breast.

“Tony, I'm sorry about last night,” she whispered. “I was scared, but I'm not anymore.”

The wordless sound he made was one of profound relief. He bent over and kissed her, hard and fast, and then slower, more thoroughly. He stretched out beside her. “I was so hungry for you last night I couldn't sleep.”

“Me, neither.”

“You're sure you're okay with this now? You won't be sorry afterward?”

How could she know that? All she could think of was how much she wanted him right at this mo
ment. She whipped her head from side to side. “No. At least, I don't think so. No. I'm sure.”

He leaned over her, and this time his kiss was slow and deep, his lips learning everything there was to know about her mouth. At the same time, his hand traveled from her throat to her collarbone, over to her shoulders, down her arms, and when she wriggled impatiently, finally he cupped her breast.

“Mmm, I like that.”
Like
was such a feeble word for what she was feeling, but vocabulary was the last thing on her mind.

“How about this?” He gently tweaked her nipple, and she moaned. She had far too many clothes on, and so did he. Reaching for the bottom of his shirt, she lifted the garment in one neat motion over his head and off. There were distinct advantages to having been a nurse.

He had a mat of soft brown curls on his chest, and she wanted to bury her nose in them. But first she needed to get her own clothing off as well. She tried to sit up, but her propped knee threw her off balance.

“Let me.” In two easy movements, he had her T-shirt off and her bra undone. There were distinct advantages to him being a doctor. He stood up for a moment and she watched him effortlessly slide off his shorts and abbreviated black underwear.

“Wow.” His erection was magnificent, and she admired it. “You're impressive.”

“And you're beautiful.” He was tugging carefully at her shorts and panties, easing them over her sore knee and down her legs, then tossing them to the carpet.

She was going to explode if he didn't hurry.

“Kate, you're a lovely woman.” He knelt beside her, his eyes feasting on her naked body.

For a moment, she was self-conscious. She hadn't been naked with many men since her divorce. Even before that, sex had become just a wistful memory as her relationship with Scott deteriorated.

She was glad she was on her back; her rounded tummy didn't show in this position. On the other hand, her breasts were flatter than when she was upright. It was a trade-off.

The rapt expression in his eyes told her it didn't matter in the least to him.

“I've wanted you for so long, Kate. I used to imagine doing this to you during those bloody endless meetings.”

“You did? Why didn't you ever say anything?”

His raised eyebrow was answer enough. They giggled, imagining the effect such an announcement would have had on St. Joe's directors.

Bending his head, he took her right nipple into his mouth, and she forgot everything as he suckled first one breast and then the other.

She ran her hands down his chest, loving the feel of his flesh beneath the soft, thick hair, the hardness
of the muscles beneath the taut skin. She stroked his abdomen and took his penis in her hand, sliding her palm along the velvety length and then cupping him with her fingers. His reaction sent shivers of pleasure through her.

“Witch.” His body bucked and his voice was unsteady, but his fingers were sure as he reached down and touched the throbbing nub between her legs.

She moved against his hand and moaned. She was on the cusp, and she wanted him with her. She looked up into his eyes.

“Now, please, Tony, now.”

And then he was inside her, and the waves of pleasure carried her up and up, until she thought she'd die of the sensation. He lowered his head and caught her cries with a kiss that intensified her climax.

The explosion in her body came only a moment before his, and the guttural cry he gave melded with her own ecstatic moans.

They were clasped in a moist, trembling heap when the knock came on the door.

“Room service,” a cheerful male voice called.

Tony raised his head and gave Kate a horrified look. “Breakfast,” he hissed. “I forgot we'd ordered breakfast.”

He scrambled to his feet, snatched his running shorts and tugged them on. With a single expert flip
of the duvet, he covered Kate, then went to the door.

“
Good
morning,” the waiter chirped as he wheeled in a loaded cart. “Shall I place it here by the window, sir?” He pushed the cart across the room, politely ignoring Kate's underwear, her shorts, their shoes, Tony's shirt and Kate herself. She had the duvet pulled up to her chin and she was trying to stifle her giggles.

Tony shot her quelling looks.

“Such a
fine
morning, sir,” the waiter purred, parking the cart with a flourish and fussily removing the lids on several silver servers. “I'll just open these—” He jerked the curtains back so that sunshine filled the room. It was too much. Kate hid her head under the covers, peering out just enough to see what was going on.

“Would you like me to pour your coffee, sir?”

“No, that'll be fine.” There was a moment of silence as Tony bent over the cart and signed the bill.

“Thank you so much, Dr. O'Connor, and may I wish you a very pleasant day?”

The waiter left, still without a glance at the mound in the bed that was Kate. As the door closed behind him, she poked her head out and her laughter erupted.