Dance with the Doctor (7 page)

“Is that a hint?” he asked.

She grinned. “Maybe. Anyway, Mom wants to go to this, so I guess it will be all right.”

Mike knew she was secretly excited about the show, with all its glitter and glamour and exaltation of everything princess. She wore her purple boots and, at the last minute, had added a sparkling tiara someone had given her in the hospital.

The hospital made him think of Brent. The boy had been back in the office this afternoon. Mike had changed his medication and ordered a blood workup, but he was worried. Every sick child was a potential Taylor. Mike didn’t want to make the same mistake with others he’d made with her. Was he missing something that might turn out worse because of his oversight? Should he send the boy to a specialist, and if so, which one?

He continued to ponder this as he made his rounds at the hospital Friday evening. He only had two patients to see: a girl recovering from pneumonia and a boy who’d crashed his dirt bike at a racetrack. Both were doing well and Mike left the hospital in a good mood.

Usually on nights when Mike had the house to himself, he indulged in takeout and beer while watching a ball game or a movie on TV. But there was no game on tonight, and no movie he wanted to see.

Maybe he’d go out to eat. Someplace nice. The kind of place he’d take a date, if he dated.

As he drove away from the hospital, he kept an eye out for a likely looking restaurant. He’d order a good steak, and one glass of red wine. Then a red neon sign caught his eye and he tapped the brake.
Arabica.
The restaurant where Darcy danced. Not giving himself time to change his mind, he put on his blinker and turned into the parking lot.

He asked for a table near the small space at the front of the room that served as a stage. He ordered lamb kebabs and a Scotch and water and waited until the lights dimmed. The sounds of flutes and drums and a woman singing in Arabic filled the room.

Darcy arrived in a swirl of purple and gold, sparkling with sequins and jewels. A many-paneled skirt hung low on her hips, framed by a jeweled, fringed girdle. A jewel glinted at her navel and more fringe trimmed the bra from which the tops of her breasts spilled. Mike had a flash of memory of the first time he’d seen her dance, that day in her studio, when the air around him had seemed charged and he’d realized how empty his life was of all things sexual.

As the music rose now she began to shimmy, the fringe and sequins shuddering, her flesh quivering, mesmerizing him. She moved in time with the music, first fast, then slow, tracing arcs and circles in the air with her hips, then her breasts, making the fringe jump and dance along with her. She undulated with snakelike grace, then pranced across the stage, hips bouncing provocatively. All the while she seduced the audience with her smile and teased them with her eyes. They cheered and whistled and applauded. One man’s voice rose over the others. “Baby, you are gorgeous!”

Mike craned his head, trying to find the guy in the crowd.

The music switched to a more modern rock number and she vamped, acting out the words of the song, in which the singer chided her man for not treating her right. She promised to make him pay for his mistakes and find a man who would treat her like a queen. Mike had no doubt she’d have plenty of willing candidates in this room if she issued an invitation.

The music changed again and she ventured into the audience, moving among the tables, stopping to dance for appreciative diners. At one table she invited a young girl to join her, applauding as the girl twisted and shimmied. Mike thought of Taylor, and how quickly she and Darcy had hit it off. Darcy had an easy way with children, and Taylor, who so often missed her mother, basked in attention from an adult female who was equal parts fantasy princess and mentor.

She moved on, twirling and gliding, and stopped directly in front of Mike. As her eyes met his, he felt certain she’d been aware of his presence for some time, and had deliberately sought him out.

The music slowed and she slowed with it, her moves becoming more controlled. More sensual. The two of them might have been alone in the room, for all Mike noticed the people around them. The exotic music and the seductive sight and scent of her filled his senses. He was no longer a single dad and doctor….

Then the spell was broken by a man who inserted himself between them. “Come dance with me, honey,” the man said. He wiggled his hips and laughed.

Darcy tried to move away from him, but he grasped her arm. “Wait. I’ve got something for you.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled bill and tried to stuff it into her top.

Mike was out of his chair and had a hold of the man before he realized what he was doing. The guy released Darcy and turned toward Mike. Mike landed a blow on the jaw, then watched as the man sank to his knees and toppled over with a groan.

The next thing he knew, Darcy was dragging him out of the dining room and down a dimly lit corridor. “What are you doing?” he protested. “I haven’t paid for my dinner. What about the rest of your show?”

“The show’s over. And don’t worry about your dinner. I’ll talk to Dileep.” She opened the door to a storage room that apparently doubled as her dressing room, dragged him inside and shut it firmly behind them.

He stood with his back against the door, breathing hard, his hand throbbing. She stood a scant foot away, arms folded under her breasts, her accentuated cleavage and bright costume in sharp contrast to her disapproving schoolmarm expression. “Well?” she said.

“Well what?” He rubbed his throbbing hand.

“Why did you hit him?”

“I’d think that would be obvious.”

“I would have handled him. Dileep was already on his way to help.”

“Who is Dileep?”

“The owner. He doesn’t like this kind of disruption.”

Such a polite word for a brawl, or what would have been a brawl if the other guy hadn’t toppled like a tree. “Does this sort of thing happen often?” Mike asked.

“Occasionally. Usually the guy’s had too much to drink. I put him off and Dileep escorts him away and suggests he leave and not worry about paying for his dinner. Most of the other diners never notice anything’s wrong.”

Mike was pretty sure at least half the room had seen him deck the guy. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I wasn’t thinking. I just saw his hands on you and…” He shook his head.

She uncrossed her arms. “You surprised me. I didn’t think you were the type to do something like that.”

“I’m not. At least, not usually.” He grimaced.

“Is your hand all right?”

“It’s not broken, but it smarts. Serves me right for pulling such a stunt.”

“Let me see.”

“No, it’s fine. Really.” But she took his hand, cradling it in hers. Her nails were painted a bright pink, her fingers long and slender. She held him gently, her skin soft and warm as only a woman’s could be. He was a man alone with a beautiful woman he suddenly wanted very much.

The strength of his desire surprised him as much as the punch had. Tonight was obviously an evening for every long-suppressed emotion to rise to the surface, so he didn’t fight the feeling, merely brought his free hand to rest against the exquisite tenderness of the hollow of her throat.

When her eyes met his, questioning, he brought his lips to hers. Answering the question.

Her lips were as soft as he’d imagined, and as warm and welcoming as he’d hoped. She arched into him, and he put his hand at the curve of her waist to steady her, his palm resting against her bare skin.

There was no hesitation or awkwardness in this kiss, no fumbling of strangers. Her lips parted in invitation and he accepted. She tasted sweet and earthy, like everything sex should be.

He kissed until he was breathless, reluctant to break the spell of the moment. Then he realized she was trembling, and he was trembling too. He raised his head but kept his hand at her waist. “If you want me to apologize for that, I won’t.”

“No. No, I don’t want you to apologize.” She rested her palm against his chest, her cheeks flushed, her breasts rising and falling with each breath. They stared at each other, the amazement he felt reflected in her eyes.

Finally, she took a step back. “Let me change clothes and we’ll go somewhere and talk.”

He waited for her in the hall. While he was standing there a burly man in a dark suit approached. “Is Darcy in there?” he asked.

“Are you Dileep?”

“Dileep Aswan.”

“Darcy’s changing. I’m sorry about tonight. I’ll pay for my meal, and for that man’s, too. And any other damages.” He reached for his wallet.

“No, no.” Dileep waved him away. “I have a wife and three daughters. I understand how it is.” His expression grew more stern. “But don’t come to watch her dance anymore. Some men can sit back and watch others admire their woman, but you cannot. I cannot. We’re too hot-blooded, so we must stay away.”

Mike had never in his life thought of himself as hot-blooded, but he nodded. “Yes. I’ll stay away. I promise.”

When Darcy emerged a few moments later, dressed in jeans and a red parka, Mike told her he’d spoken to Dileep.

“I heard,” she said.

“He seemed more amused than anything, as if I’d done what any man would.”

“You didn’t tell him I wasn’t your woman.”

“Explaining seemed too complicated.” After the kiss they’d just shared, he wasn’t sure how he’d characterize their relationship. He’d punched a man because of Darcy, then kissed her passionately—it seemed clear they’d moved beyond casual friendship, though he could think of half a dozen reasons why this was a bad idea. “Where do you want to go now?” he asked.

“There’s a coffee shop two doors down. Let’s go there.”

She left her costume in her car and they walked down to the coffee shop. At this time of night it was quiet. She ordered a chai latte and Mike asked for black coffee. Now that the adrenaline had faded he was starting to drag.

They sat at a table near the front windows. In the harsh fluorescent lighting the stage makeup she’d worn to dance looked overdone, like a girl playing dress-up. “I usually go straight home after I dance,” she said, as if reading his thoughts.

“I usually fall asleep on the sofa in front of the television on the nights Taylor’s away.”

“Tonight was certainly more exciting than that.”

“I’m sorry I overreacted with that guy. I didn’t mean to embarrass you or get you in trouble with the owner.”

“It’s okay. By next Friday it’ll be forgotten.”

“I think Dileep may have the wrong impression now about our relationship. I hope that’s not going to be a problem. I mean, if you have a boyfriend…” He had a sudden image of some big bruiser looking him up and warning him away.

“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she said. “Don’t worry.”

“I’m not really at a place in my life where I want to date anyone, either,” he said. Better to be honest with her, in case she expected that kiss to lead to something more. As much as the physical pleasure of kissing her might lead him to wish they could take things further, he wasn’t one for casual affairs, and his failed marriage proved he wasn’t good at emotional entanglements. “It’s only in the past few months I’ve felt comfortable letting Taylor out of my sight for more than a few hours.”

“Is her health really that fragile?”

“So far she’s progressing remarkably well. But the best way to deal with setbacks is to anticipate them.” If he’d anticipated problems earlier on he might have been able to spare Taylor so much of the suffering she’d gone through.

“I guess I’d be overprotective in your situation, too.”

“Melissa says I go too far. She was always able to detach better than I was.” He took a long drink of coffee. When he’d met Melissa, he’d been drawn to her energy and drive. Her confidence had been contagious. Later, after Taylor became ill, he saw her darker side. “As you might have noticed, she can be a bit self-centered. I suppose I let her get away with too much. I hate to fight in front of Taylor.”

“She wasn’t the only reason I left last night,” Darcy said.

He’d wondered…. “That picture upset you. The one of Taylor in the hospital.”

She nodded. “It looked so much like Riley the last time I saw him. Except he was already dead. Brain-dead, anyway. The machines were just keeping his organs healthy until they could be donated.”

“Losing your husband at the same time must have made everything ten times worse.”

“Yes.” She gripped her cup with both hands and sipped her tea.

“Are you able to talk about this?” he asked. “We can change the subject.”

“No, I’m okay. It’s good, really, to talk to someone.”

“Tell me about your husband, then. What was he like?”

“Pete was…he was charismatic. The kind of guy who made friends easily. We met while I was at the University of Colorado.” She smiled. “He gave me a traffic ticket, then called the next day and asked me out.”

“He was a cop?”

“Yes. And I was a very serious postgraduate student, working on my master’s degree in community relations.”