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Authors: Cindi Myers

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BOOK: Dance with the Doctor
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D
ARCY FELT
the same butterflies she got before she debuted a new dance. She reminded herself sex was not a solo performance. Rather, it was a duet. She only hoped she could remember her part.
“You’re trembling,” Mike said as he took her in his arms after he’d locked the bedroom door behind them.

“I’m nervous,” she admitted. “It’s been a while.”

“For me, too.” He held her, her head cradled on his shoulder. “I don’t think it’s something we forget. But if we do, we can help each other remember.”

He kissed her again, almost tentatively, hands that had explored her so boldly before hesitating at the hem of her sweater, as if the short walk from the kitchen had given him too much time to think about what they were doing.

She’d had a dance teacher early on who’d told her the reason she wasn’t getting any better as a performer was that she thought too much about the moves she needed to do and not enough about how the music made her feel. If she focused more on her emotions, her training would take over and the moves would come naturally.

That teacher had been right. Darcy gripped the hem of her sweater, lifted it over her head and sent it sailing across the room. Not looking at Mike, she also stripped off the pants, and stood before him naked.

When she did meet his eyes he was smiling, and she felt warmed in the heat of his gaze. “So much for taking it slow,” he said.

“We’ve wasted so much time already.” She undid the top button of his shirt.

He kissed her again while she fumbled with the buttons, tracing the curves of her hips and thighs as she pulled the shirttails from his pants and pushed it back off his shoulders.

Then it was her turn. She kissed her way down his chest as he struggled out of the shirt, removed his belt and lowered the zipper over the hard length of his erection.

The butterflies returned at this blatant evidence of his desire, but they were soon vanquished by her own longing. It had been so long since she’d loved and been loved. Too long.

She kissed him with new intensity, clinging to him, reveling in the feel of flesh against flesh. Her urgency fueled his desire and soon they were rolling on the bed like randy teens, but with an adult’s knowledge of what lay ahead.

“You are so beautiful,” he said when they paused to catch their breath. He smoothed his hand across her belly. “So gorgeous.”

Never mind that her stomach wasn’t as flat as she would like or her breasts as round. With him she felt gorgeous, and that was all that mattered. That, and the delicious tension building inside her.

Still, she held him off. “I trust a doctor has condoms?”

“This weekend, I do.” He got up and went into the bathroom, leaving her with the knowledge that he’d had plans to make love to her this weekend. Taylor might have extended the invitation, but Mike definitely wanted her along.

He’d said he loved her. Magic words that had left her completely undone. “I love you, too,” she whispered, the words hard to say, even when he wasn’t around to hear them.

Then he was back, stalking across the room naked, stripping open a condom package as he approached. He knelt over her, fitting it on, then she reached for him.

“Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked, caressing her thighs.

“I’m more than ready,” she said. “All I want is you in me.”

“I’m always happy to give a lady what she wants.” The roguish gleam in his eye made her laugh, then he made her gasp as he filled her. Such exquisite pleasure…

She quit thinking about moves and focused on feeling, letting her body lead the way. What pleased her brought pleasure to him, strengthening the connection between them.

The intensity of her climax caught her by surprise, and she bit the side of her hand to keep from crying out. Then Mike covered her lips with his own, smothering his own groans.

When he finally released her, sliding over to lie by her side, she couldn’t stop smiling, despite her tears.

“Are you crying?” Mike asked.

“Only because I’m so happy.” She rolled onto her side to face him. “Mike, you don’t know. There was a time I imagined I could never be this happy again.”

“Me, too.” He drew her close, to cradle her head in the hollow of his shoulder. “Me, too.”

Then he fell asleep.

She rested her palm on his chest, feeling the steady, strong beat of his heart. “I love you,” she whispered, even though she knew he couldn’t hear her.

V
ERY EARLY
in the morning, Darcy woke up and slipped from Mike’s bed. She found her sweater and yoga pants on the floor, put them on and tiptoed from the room.
She had thought to retire to the spare bedroom, but she was too restless to go back to bed—or at least to a cold bed, alone. Instead, she went to Taylor’s room.

The girl slept on her back, one arm flung out at her side, curls falling across her face. How often had Darcy stood over her son and watched him sleep like this? She’d missed the privilege of observing a child so innocent and still.

She resisted the urge to brush the hair from the girl’s eyes, and contented herself with watching the even rise and fall of Taylor’s chest.

That Taylor was alive to take a breath was a miracle. To think that one person’s heart could be given to another, that this essential organ could live on after the one who had been born with it was gone….

But was that any more miraculous than Darcy’s own restoration? She had gone through the motions of living after Riley and Pete died, but inside she had felt empty and hollow.

Yet here she was, so full of love she wanted to shout.

“Is everything all right?” Mike’s voice behind her was soft. He moved to the bed. “Did Taylor call out?”

“No, she’s fine,” Darcy whispered. She tucked her arm in his. He was wearing only sweatpants, a marked change from the dress shirts and slacks she was used to seeing him in. He looked very sexy, and she felt the pleasant warmth of desire.

“I just like watching her,” she whispered. “She’s so beautiful.”

“She is.” Mike looked at his daughter a moment longer, then turned to Darcy. “So are you.”

He laced his fingers with hers and led her from the room, back down the hall to his own bed. “I thought I should go into the guest room,” Darcy said.

“We can go there. But the bed here is much more comfortable.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to go back to sleep?” she teased.

“I can’t get enough of you.” He pulled her close, letting her feel how ready he was for her again.

“Mmm.” She swiveled her hips against him.

“What do you call that move?”

“An omi.” She did it again—contracting the muscles first on her right side, then the center, then the left, releasing in the back, an undulating circle of movement around her hips.

“Very interesting.” He grasped her hips.

“I know lots of interesting moves.”

“I think you need to show me.”

He let her take the lead in their lovemaking this time. She felt free to be in turns silly and serious, playful and passionate. She bit his shoulder when she came this time, and he stifled his cries against her breast.

“One day, Taylor will have an overnight stay with her mother,” he said as they lay in each other’s arms afterward. “Then I’ll really show you. No holding back.”

“If this is what you call holding back, I can’t wait.”

He kissed her again, the leisurely kiss of a man who is sure of what is his. But he abruptly stilled and pulled away. “Taylor’s up.”

“How do you know?”

“I heard the toilet flush.”

Darcy tried to move quickly and quietly. She didn’t feel what she and Mike had done was wrong, exactly, but she didn’t want to start the day explaining things to a ten-year-old girl.

She hurried to the guest room to change while he headed for the kitchen. She found him there with Taylor twenty minutes later.

“Good morning, Darcy.” Taylor greeted her with a hug. “Dad’s making pancakes.” She giggled. “It’s his specialty.”

Darcy thought of a few other things the good doctor did especially well, but kept these thoughts to herself. “What are you grinning about?” Mike gave her a chaste kiss on the cheek and a not-so-chaste squeeze of her hip. “You don’t think I can make pancakes?”

“I’m sure you can do anything you set your mind to.”

“He can’t make very good cookies,” Taylor said. “He always burns the bottoms.”

“It’s just as well he isn’t perfect,” Darcy said. “Then he might be really hard to live with.”

Mike’s pancakes were indeed delicious. Darcy and Taylor polished off a stack each, then helped Mike with the dishes. “Let’s go skiing!” Taylor shouted when they were done.

When Darcy thought about that morning later she wondered how much the fog of newfound love colored her memories. Everything about the morning was perfect in the way only dreams are perfect. The fresh snow was soft and smooth underfoot. The ski runs were long swatches of white corduroy. “You’re a beautiful skier,” Mike said when Darcy joined him at the bottom of a run.

“Thanks.” His smile made her oblivious to the cold. Or maybe she was still warmed by this morning’s lovemaking. Already she was looking forward to tonight…. But no, she shouldn’t think that far ahead. She should simply enjoy this beautiful day. She turned to watch Taylor come down the hill. “You look great,” she called to the girl.

“We should come skiing every weekend,” Taylor said as the three of them glided into the lift line. “Or every day. You should quit your job at the clinic and we can move into the condo.”

“And pay the rent with what?” Mike asked. “I’m too old to get by on good looks and charm.”

“They probably need doctors in Breckenridge,” Taylor said. “And belly dancers.”

“Oh yes, there’s a critical shortage of belly dancers,” Darcy agreed. “It’s why we’re all so wealthy.”

“Now you’re just being silly,” Taylor said.

“Yes, I am.” They’d reached the front of the line and skied forward and waited for the chair.

When they were settled, the lap bar lowered, Taylor continued. “I still wish we could come up here more often.”

“How long have you had the condo?” Darcy asked Mike, who sat on the other side of Taylor.

He stretched his arm along the back of the chair, his hand brushing Darcy’s shoulder. “We bought it four years ago. At the time, I thought we’d be up here every weekend, but somehow we never make it more than a few times a season.”

“Time gets away from us, doesn’t it?” Had it really been a month since Mike and Taylor had changed her life? Being with them felt so right, as if she’d known them for years.

“Put the bar up, Dad,” Taylor ordered as their chair approached the top of the lift. She scooted to the edge of the seat.

“Careful.” Her father tugged at the back of her jacket. “We’re not at the top yet.”

“We are now!” As soon as they reached the unloading zone, Taylor hopped from the chair and sped away. Darcy dug in her poles, trying to build speed and keep up with the girl.

“Over here!” Taylor called, and waved from the top of a run.

Mike and Darcy skied over to Taylor, but as soon as they reached her side, she took off down the run. “Watch this!” She slid over to a mogul field at the side of the run. She wove in and out of the bumps with all the grace and speed of a raindrop flowing down a windowpane.

“Taylor, be careful!” Mike stopped beside Darcy. “She’s not listening to me.”

“She probably can’t hear you.”

“She doesn’t want to hear me.” He glanced at her. “I understand selective hearing is a common trait of adolescence. Not that a ten-year-old is an adolescent yet.”

“She’s a good kid.” She started to tell him he had nothing to worry about, but that was a lie. There was always a new worry when it came to children.

They started down the slope, keeping to the groomed side of the run. Taylor was waiting for them halfway down. “Look at me,” she said, and took off again. She hit the center of a bump and flew into the air, knees tucked and arms wide. Darcy held her breath and waited for Taylor to stick the landing, dimly aware of Mike next to her, swearing under his breath.

Taylor landed hard, but on her feet. She wobbled, then righted herself and turned to grin at them. Darcy laughed, and started toward her.

At that moment, Taylor lost her balance. She tipped over onto one ski, then fell and rolled, arms and legs flailing, like a character in a cartoon who turns into a giant snowball.

Darcy took off toward the girl, but Mike was in front of her, and reached Taylor’s limp body first. She lay spread-eagle on her back, her ski poles still around her wrists, though she’d lost one ski. Her eyes were closed, her face flushed against the whiteness of the snow.

“Oh, God, is she all right?” Darcy covered her mouth with one mittened hand, as if she could hold back the awful words.

“Taylor, can you hear me?” Make clicked out of his skis and knelt beside his daughter. “Taylor!”

He touched her shoulder and she opened her eyes and grinned. “That was so awesome.” She popped up like a jack-in-the-box. “It was almost like flying. Do you see my other ski?”

Darcy sagged against her ski poles. “You’re all right.”

“Of course I’m all right.” Taylor awkwardly sidestepped up the slope to where her other ski jutted from the snow.

“Young lady, if you pull a stunt like that again, you will be grounded for a month,” Mike said. His face was pale, the shadow of his dark beard stubble standing out against his skin.

“Aw, Dad, I didn’t mean to scare you,” Taylor said.

“What you did was dangerous and foolish and—”

“Why don’t we go down and get some hot chocolate,” Darcy interrupted.

“Yes!” Taylor clapped her hands together. She turned to her father.

Mike nodded. “Chocolate sounds good.” As Taylor skied in front of them, he maneuvered over beside Darcy. “With maybe a double shot of schnapps in mine. I understand now why so many parents drink.”

Darcy laughed. “She likes testing you, I think. But maybe she’s not as fragile as she looks.”

He shook his head. “All kids are more vulnerable than they feel, but try convincing them of that.”

“I guess so. I remember when I first got my driver’s license. I felt as if I could do anything.”

“Then you wrecked the car,” Mike said.

“No. But I ran out of gas and had to hike to a pay phone to call my dad to come get me. I was mortified.”

“I wrecked the car,” Mike said. “I had to work all summer to pay for the repairs.”

At the lodge, Taylor raced around with two other girls and a boy, climbing the piles of snow and sliding down. Darcy waited at a picnic table in the sun while Mike went inside to fetch hot chocolate. “You have a beautiful daughter,” an older woman said.

“Thank you.” Darcy didn’t correct her.

By noon they were all pink cheeked and it was clear Taylor was beginning to tire. “Let’s go back to the condo and have lunch and a nap,” Mike said. “This evening, we’ll go tubing.”

“Yay!” Taylor raised her hands in a victory gesture.

Darcy was heating soup while Mike grilled sandwiches when his cell phone rang. He went into the other room to take the call and returned a few minutes later, frowning. “That was my answering service,” he said. “Brent Jankowski took a turn for the worse last night. His mother brought him to the emergency room this morning and he’s been admitted.”

“Is Brent the boy with the sick heart?” Taylor asked.

“Yes.” Mike patted her shoulder. “I need to go see him. Tonight.”

Darcy did her best to mask her disappointment. She wanted Mike to stay here with her, but of course he had to go and help this sick boy. “Taylor and I will do girl stuff,” she said. “We can still go tubing when you get back.”

“Thanks for understanding.” He kissed her briefly on the lips, then kissed his daughter.

“I hope Brent is feeling better,” Taylor said anxiously. “Is he as sick as I was?”

“Not quite,” Mike said. “At least I hope not.”

With Mike gone, the mood in the condo was definitely more subdued. Darcy and Taylor had lunch and Darcy left the dishes for later. “I could use a nap,” she said, stifling a yawn. Her early morning and all that skiing were catching up with her.

“If you’re tired, I guess I could lie down, too,” Taylor said.

Darcy started for the guest room, but ended up instead in Mike’s room. She crawled under the covers, imagining she could still smell the scent of his body and the faint musk of sex. She fell asleep smiling, wishing his arms were around her, but knowing he would be back.

BOOK: Dance with the Doctor
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ads

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