Have Bouquet, Need Boyfriend (17 page)

his soul about the baby. As if he had never kissed her and almost taken

her to bed.

He gripped the door handle when she stopped and swung open the door,

ready to climb out. “Thanks for the ride, Rebecca.”

She nodded, even more confused by the conflicting heat flaring in his eyes.

Then the wind brought a cloud of some strong odor toward her, and she

realized it was perfume. A woman’s perfume.

No wonder he was in such a hurry to get away from her. He had obviously

been with another woman tonight.

Thomas felt like a jerk as he sped toward his house in his Porsche. He

had been so cold to Rebecca, but he had to put some distance between them.

Some much-needed emotional distance.

After all, miles would separate them when he moved, just as their needs

and goals in life separated them now. And he didn’t want to hurt her, so

he couldn’t lead her on or let her believe that they might have a future

together. He could never bring his baby brother back, but in Atlanta he

could save others. As long as he had the skills he needed to do so. And

the equipment and technology and staff. Sugar Hill had none of that. So

he didn’t really belong here.

Yet deep inside his chest that emptiness returned, that aching and

yearning for something more.

Why? What was it he wanted that he wouldn’t have in Atlanta?

Rebecca fitted perfectly into that small-town celebration. She would not

be comfortable at charity fundraisers and entertaining hospital board

members, all part of the trimmings he’d need for a wife.

Wife?

Was he really considering marrying Rebecca?

No. He wasn’t ready for that kind of commitment. They’d never officially

even dated.

So, why had he been so upset when she’d spoken up adamantly against the

institution?

Shaken by the direction of his thoughts, he pulled into his garage and

went into the house. The empty rooms greeted him with silence, the

sterile odors of cleaner and expensive woods almost stifling. He roamed

through each room, trying to decide whether or not he liked the

modernist artwork and decor the decorator had chosen. There were no

photos of family or friends, no homey touches like the ones Rebecca had

crammed into that tiny little place of hers. That place should feel

stifling, not his.

But in his mind he saw the tulip garden Rebecca had painted, the lush

mountain greenery, the gazebo up on Pine Mountain where all her cousins

had married, the vibrant colors and the passion she interjected in each

piece.

Was that what was missing from his house? The passion…

And what about his life?

No, he had passion for his work. Like the other doctors he’d met

tonight, that was all the passion he had time for.

Determined to prove that his work still satisfied him, he headed back to

his car. New Year’s Eve or not, he’d stop by the clinic and pick up a

few of the medical journals he hadn’t had time to read yet. Might as

well accomplish something on New Year’s Day.

Out with the old and in with the new-and onto a new life.

Medicine was all that mattered, wasn’t it?

Rebecca worked on the waterfall scene, well aware she was using her art

as an escape. She’d been so rattled after she’d left Thomas she hadn’t

been able to eat, but she’d stopped by the celebration in the park and

bought one of the picnic dinners just to support the town. The uneaten

food still sat on the table at the clinic.

She should forget about this crazy attraction to Thomas. Tomorrow would

be the start of a new year, her resolution would be to forget him.

Still, knowing Thomas had commissioned her to paint the murals for the

clinic, that he roamed the halls of this building and spent his days

here, that she could smell the lingering scent of his cologne in the

empty hallways drove the knife deeper into the pain she felt from his

earlier dismissal.

Something had changed since his trip to Atlanta, but she didn’t

understand what.

Except that it involved another woman who reeked of some expensive

French perfume. Someone obviously much more experienced and

sophisticated than her.

Her hand slipped, the brush strayed, and glittery white paint streaked

down into the sea of blue she’d chosen for the pool of water at the base

of the waterfall. Drat.

At least she could fix the paint.

How could she fix her heart from breaking over a man who obviously

didn’t want her?

She glanced at the desk where The Pregnancy Bible

lay open and another wave of pain assaulted her. There was no way she

could ask Thomas to help her with her baby plan now.

Maybe it would be easier to visit a sperm bank and talk to a stranger,

anyway. Someone who wouldn’t judge her or think she was desperate. Or

worse, look at her with pity.

An idea struck, and she rushed to the front desk, turned on the

computer, then checked for fertility clinics and sperm donor centers in

Atlanta. When she located one, she logged on and sent an e-mail asking

the clinic to mail her information. It wouldn’t hurt to read up on the

procedure before she went for a consultation.

And if it didn’t work out, no one would ever know.

Thomas couldn’t believe it when he saw Rebecca’s car parked at the

clinic. It was almost midnight. What was she doing here?

Hell, it was dark and cold, someone might see her here and try to break

in. The mere possibility sent his blood racing through his veins. Angry

with her for being so foolish, he hurriedly let himself into the clinic.

Not certain which room she was in, he checked the first two and saw the

dinosaur mural, then the jungle one. Wow. The colors certainly

brightened up the exam areas; she had done a fabulous job. He still

didn’t understand why she didn’t show her work to others.

He found her in the fourth room, completely immersed in the details of a

gorgeous waterfall that pooled into a crystal-blue stream on the side of

a mountain. Pure heaven.

“Rebecca?”

She shrieked, then jerked around and flung the paintbrush at him, as if

she thought that skinny piece of wood might fend off an attacker.

“Y-you scared me.” She ran toward him, reaching for a rag to wipe the

white paint splattered on his pants legs. He grabbed her hand before she

did too much damage.

“I’m sorry I frightened you, but you shouldn’t be here this time of

night alone.”

“I was…w-working,” she stammered.

He tightened his grip on her hand. “Don’t you know how dangerous it is

for a woman to be here at night by herself?”

“I thought the door was locked.”

“It was. I have a key.”

Her big blue eyes met his. “But you aren’t going to hurt me.”

A loaded question. He met her gaze and saw the remnants of what he

thought might have been tears glistening in her eyes. Was it already too

late?

Had he already hurt her?

He’d never meant to.

“Besides, you’re here alone.”

So, he was slightly sexist when it came to safety. Out of the corner of

his eye, he caught sight of the uneaten picnic dinner for one, and his

throat went dry.

He’d eaten with dozens of people around him all week but he’d still felt

lonely.

She lowered her gaze and began to fidget, and his heart tugged. Unable

to stand her distress, he tucked a strand of her silky hair behind one

ear. Just the simple contact drove him insane. Especially when her

breath hitched out in a throaty sound and the passion in her eyes echoed

the passion in her paintings.

Like that rose opening its petals toward the sun, he felt her opening up

toward him….

That empty hole inside him throbbed. The clock struck midnight. New

Year’s Eve.

He had wondered who she would be kissing at midnight. He’d wanted it to

be him.

He might be leaving soon, but he had to taste her once again.

Forgetting his earlier resolve to avoid her, he lowered his mouth and

allowed her to assuage the aching void inside him. And when he kissed

her, he suddenly felt as if he were coming home.

Rebecca sank into Thomas’s arms, thoroughly confused by his actions but

totally mesmerized by the hunger in his kiss. He drove his mouth over

hers in a frenzy of need, then dragged her up against his body, molding

her into the vee of his thighs, and rubbing his hard length along her

stomach so that she moaned and clung to him.

She wanted him to take her all the way to heaven and back this time.

His hands combed through her ponytail and snaked down her face to her

shoulders, then lower to cup her buttocks and grip her hard against him.

Warmth pooled in her belly and floated upward in a spiral of desire that

left her dizzy.

“God, Rebecca, you taste like the sweetest of sins,” Thomas growled in

her ear.

The smile that radiated from her mouth originated straight from her

soul. She kissed his jaw, ran her fingers along the strong set to his

chin, then nibbled at his neck, giggling softly when the thick dark

stubble of his beard scraped her neck. His own need escalating out of

control, he dipped his head and tasted her neck. His breath licked her

skin as his hands found her breasts and kneaded them through her sweater.

She had never allowed a man to see her naked before, but she suddenly

craved to feel his touch everywhere.

He seemed to have the same idea.

His hands reached to the bottom of her sweater, and she slid her hands

along his muscular arms and down his chest, which hardened beneath her

touch.

Her rear end suddenly collided with cold metal. He jerked his gaze up

and met her eyes, the passion in his look so wild and feral she lost her

breath. Then he looked down and saw the exam table behind her and his

look of desire changed to disgust.

“What the hell are we doing?”

The harshness of his words hit her like a slap in the face. She

stiffened and bit down on her lip to stem the cry of disappointment.

What had she done wrong?

He shook his head in regret, then dropped his head forward into his

hands and stepped back from her. The cold metal pressed into her back as

she gathered her control.

“I’m sorry, Rebecca. I…” His voice was so hoarse she could barely hear

him. “I practically attacked you. And in here of all places.”

He gestured around the exam room as if he’d committed a cardinal sin.

“You didn’t do anything I didn’t want,” she said in a surprisingly

strong voice. “In case you didn’t notice, I wasn’t fighting you.”

His hands fell to his sides, and his clear green eyes met hers, turmoil

and regret and hunger warring together. “This is no place for-“

For her first time? He couldn’t know, could he? “To make love.”

He hissed out a breath. “For sex.”

The bluntness of his words stabbed at her insecurity. “Right.” But she

refused to allow him to see how much he’d hurt her. Instead she lifted

her chin and gathered her purse. She had to get out of there before she

disintegrated into tears and unleashed the foolish words threatening to

erupt.

He grabbed her by her arms and forced her to face him. “I don’t want to

hurt you, Rebecca.” His voice was hard, gravelly. “I can’t deny that I

want to be with you. But…”

“But what, Thomas?”

“But I can’t make any promises.”

She stared at him long and hard. A heartbeat of silence stretched into

eternity.

“Is that what you think I want?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head, yanked his keys from his pocket and

gently coaxed her toward the door. “But it’s what you deserve. And I

can’t take you here like I’m some horny high schooler.”

She allowed him to lead her into the chilly night air. Snow fluttered

down from a darkening sky, creating a soft blanket of white on the tops

of the cedars and pines. But the breeze brought the scent of that French

perfume again.

This time disgust filled her.

Didn’t she have any pride? How could she have crawled all over him, been