The Good Doctor (14 page)

They didn't even make it to her bedroom. The kiss detonated their desire and they began unbuttoning, unfastening and tearing clothes away.

Peter's kisses became hungrier, more possessive, more claiming, until she cared about nothing but him. The desire between them became almost too hot to handle and her breathing became as ragged as his. Her slacks dropped to the floor. While she stepped out of them, he unbuckled his belt, his gaze staying on hers, connecting them. She gravitated toward him, putting her hands on his waist, sliding her hands up into his
chest hair, ridging his nipples with her tongue. When he shuddered, she gloried in that.

Before, they'd bantered during their lovemaking. Now there was complete seriousness in everything they did. When they were both finally naked, he caught her to him, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. As he lifted her up against him, she wrapped her legs around him.

“Peter,” she sighed, wanting so much she couldn't even put the wanting into words.

“I know,” he murmured, grabbing one of the chairs from the table. He turned it around, then sat on it with her facing him.

“I need you, Violet.” There was something in his voice that told her he'd never told a woman that before.

“I need you, too,” she whispered.

His hands on her bottom, he lifted her and let her slide onto him…slowly. Pleasure rushed through her. As he thrust upward, she held on for dear life.

“I can't hold out much longer,” he admitted in a rocky voice. “Are you ready?”

The pleasure was building into a firestorm in her womb. She knew one more stroke and— “I'm ready,” she gasped.

When he pushed into her more forcefully, her climax encompassed her, shaking her, making her limbs tremble, forcing her to see that her love for Peter was bigger than anything else in her life.

A small voice asked,
Bigger than Celeste?

In the maelstrom of sensation and emotion and absolute pleasure she couldn't answer the question. She couldn't consider the repercussions.

Tonight she needed to take time out from the real world. Tonight she wanted to just love Peter and not think about anything else. Holding on to him, she let wave after wave of physical pleasure wash over her. Emotions rose up until tears
fell down her cheeks. As Peter's release came, too, she felt him shudder…felt him hold on to her tighter…felt the bond between them strengthen.

Seconds later he rested his forehead against hers. “We were very foolish tonight.”

Surprised, Violet leaned back a little. “Why?”

“Because we didn't use protection. We're both doctors, and old enough to know better, yet we still behaved like teenagers.”

“I told you getting pregnant wouldn't be easy for me. But if it happens, we'll deal with it.” As she said the words, she wondered if she
wanted
to get pregnant and that was why she'd ignored birth control. Maybe that was Peter's reason, too.

Now he slid his thumb under her chin and just studied her. She knew he was going to ask questions. She knew he wanted answers. She still didn't have them.

So before he could even open his lips, she put her finger on them. “For tonight…for just this one night, can we pretend we don't have any cares in the world? Can we just be Peter and Violet in New York? Being together without worrying about tomorrow?”

“Can you really put tomorrow out of your head?”

“Yes. We need tonight to give us strength for what comes after. Whatever that is.”

Tenderly, he passed his hand up and down her bare back. “All right. We'll try it. I've never suspended reality before. What do you want to do next?”

“Let's walk the streets a bit. I'll show you where we can get a great bottle of wine and then a corner market where we can buy hot food for takeout. I'll show you all the things I like best about New York.”

“In the next few hours?” he asked wryly.

“I'll do my best. It's the sights and the sounds and the smells as much as anything else.”

“I'm game. But first—”

He bent his head to kiss her again, and Violet couldn't remember ever feeling this happy before.

 

Autumn in New York was one of Violet's favorite times. She loved the crisp nip of the end-of-October air, the expectancy that the city would even be busier for the holidays, and the leaves in Central Park that turned golden and orange and red. She gave Peter a taste of all of it—from street vendors to newsstands to window-shopping. In his hunter-green cable knit sweater and black corduroys, he turned women's heads as he walked by. But he kept his arm around
her
during most of their walk, even taking her hand now and then. She felt as if she belonged with him and wasn't sure why that made her feel so good.

Peter asked if she'd like to go to a restaurant to eat, but she preferred picking up the bits and pieces of their meal and taking it all back to her apartment with him. It was cozier there, and a lot more intimate than having people talking all around them and a waiter interrupting their conversation.

Together, they chose a bottle of Merlot, then stopped at a corner market, filling their basket with a loaf of French bread, fruit and a few entrées from the hot buffet bar. Her apartment wasn't far away, and ten minutes later they were taking the elevator, then tumbling into her living room laughing at a joke he'd made, and kissing, in spite of the bags in their arms.

After they'd taken everything out of the bags and opened the many containers, Peter poured the wine into two stemmed glasses.

Violet was placing plates and silverware on the table when her phone rang. She took her cell phone from her purse. “Hello.”

“Violet, it's Miles.”

“Miles, hi. Are you checking up on me for Clyde?”

He gave a short laugh. “No way. I know better. I thought I'd better forewarn you about something.”

“What?”

“A story broke in today's
Gazette.
”

“A story about what?”

“About Kingston Fortune and where he came from.”

“Exactly what about Kingston?”

“Everything. The fact that he was illegitimate…that his biological parents were Eliza Wise and Travis Jamison, not Dora and Hobart Fortune.”

“Who do you suppose talked?”

“It could have been anybody. The police know, the family knows. Somebody might have gotten friendly with a reporter and revealed it without intending to.” His voice lowered as he said, “Or someone could have gotten hold of the information and spilled it to embarrass Ryan.”

Ryan. Had Lily called him? He didn't need anything more to worry about, including embarrassment for his family—if there
was
any embarrassment in being the son of a man who was given away by a mother who didn't want him.

“The story being let out of the bag might not be a bad thing,” she told her brother. “Maybe now everyone will stop speculating on why Christopher Jamison had a crown birthmark.”

“Maybe. Or maybe it will make matters worse. We'll know in a few days. But I just wanted to warn you in case any reporters bothered
you.
”

“No one has my cell phone number but family or friends, and I can screen calls on my machine.”

“When will you be back?”

“Hopefully, tomorrow evening. Don't worry about me, Miles. I'm a big girl.”

“That's
why
I worry,” he grumbled in a wry tone. “You take care, and don't get run over by a taxi.”

She laughed. “I won't. I'll talk to you soon.”

After she dropped her phone back into her purse, Peter asked, “Trouble?”

“Maybe. Maybe not. There was an article in the Red Rock paper this morning about the Fortune family.”

Peter motioned to the food at the table. “Come on. Sit and eat before it gets cold, and you can tell me about it.”

They dug into the containers, and when their plates were full she began, “Kingston Fortune wasn't really a Fortune.”

Peter's eyebrows arched. “Who was he?”

“His biological father was a man named Travis Jamison.”

“Any relation to Christopher Jamison?”

“Oh, yes. Christopher would have been his great-grandson. But from what I understand, Travis never knew he
had
a son.”

“This is going to get complicated, isn't it?” Peter asked with a smile.

“Yes, it is. But the bottom line is, Travis got a young girl pregnant, and she didn't tell him about the child. Since she didn't want the baby, she handed him off to a family in another county—the Fortunes. That baby was Kingston, Ryan's father.”

“And all of this is just coming out?”

“Ryan found out about it when Christopher Jamison's body was identified. He found out about the whole Jamison history.”

“Interesting. Is this the reason that the police still have their sights set on Ryan?”

“I imagine it's one of them, though Ryan knew nothing about the history before the body was discovered.”

“Now all that will be made public, so the whole state can speculate.”

She nodded.

Silence dwindled into easy companionship. But in that ease, an underlying current of sexual tension rose. When Violet looked at Peter, all she could think of was how he'd made
love to her. From the way he looked back, he was thinking about the same thing.

Their conversation turned to other things then, interesting items from their past. It was light talk, about plays they'd seen, places they'd been, things they'd done.

Finally Peter pushed back his plate. “That food was delicious. Do you do that often? Go there for supper?”

“Once in a great while. I try to resist. Usually I buy salads and fruit,” she responded. “Remember that yogurt and black coffee? I never really learned how to cook.”

“I know what you mean. Once in a while, Charlene and my sisters bring over casseroles. The rest of the time I subsist on burgers, frozen French fries and microwave meals or fast food.”

“And we're doctors!” Violet said with a laugh.

“Yes, we are,” Peter agreed.

So as not to go down that conversational path, Violet hopped up and began to clear the table. “I think I'd like to get a shower before I turn in. Can I get you anything else first? There's ice cream in the freezer.”

“I think I'll pass on the ice cream for now. Maybe later. I'll catch up on the day's events on the news channel while you shower.”

She wasn't going to ask what they were going to do after she showered. But she could hope.

Violet had just soaped her hair, picturing her and Peter sharing ice cream and kisses in her bed, when a tap on the shower door made her jump.

When Peter opened the frosted glass door, he was naked. “I thought you might need help soaping hard-to-reach places.” The amusement in his eyes, as well as his suggestive tone, was irresistible.

“My shower isn't very big,” she breathed, getting tingly all over from just thinking about his suggestion.

He looked around the small space. “I think we'll both fit. It's your call.”

“Come—” She couldn't seem to find her voice, cleared her throat and tried again. “Come on in.”

His green gaze was filled with desire.

Her hand went through her hair. “I'm still all soapy.”

“We'll take care of that.” Then he closed the door and was standing so close, their bodies brushed. “Did you wash yet?”

She shook her head, feeling strangely embarrassed, even though they'd already made love twice.

“What's the matter?” he asked.

“I don't know. I guess I'm just not used to this kind of intimacy.”

“Do you want my hands on you?”

The question almost derailed all of her thoughts, but she looked up at him and managed to say, “Yes.”

Her net ball was hanging on one of the spigots. He lifted it off, took the body wash from the shelf and dribbled some of the liquid onto the net. Then he took it in his hands and rubbed it up and down her arms until the suds overflowed through the net. With suds in his hands, he cupped her breasts. The soap and the water and the slide of his fingers almost made her crazy. His touches weren't quite sexual, yet they weren't completely utilitarian, either. His hands were large, and as his fingers slid over her stomach, around her sides and up her back, she thought she was going to swoon. Steam billowed around them and she knew it wasn't coming just from the hot water.

Stepping closer, his hand slid down her back to her buttocks and played there.

“Peter,” she breathed.

“What?”

“You make me feel so…wanton.”

“Then I'm doing something right.”

He squeezed more suds from the ball into one hand, then hung it on the spigot with his other. His chest hair teased her nipples, and his arousal pressed against her belly. Then his hand was between her legs, soapy and slick and seductive. She'd never felt anything like it—Peter's pure, sensual attention to her…his desire to make them both delirious with wanting…the closeness of two lovers sharing the same shower. When his fingers slid into her, she felt as if she was going to come apart.

“You,” she said as the water swished down on them. “I want you inside of me.”

“Can't I do this first?” he teased as her body contracted around his finger and she felt the first orgasm. The tension inside of her wasn't nearly dissipated. He moved his finger again and touched his thumb to the nub that gave her the most pleasure.

“Peter,” she cried as she hung on to his shoulders and let the sensual magic take over.

“I'm here,” he assured her, and then he was as he lifted her and thrust into her. Pressing her back against the wall of the shower, he admitted in a husky voice, “I've never even thought about doing this before.”

Time stopped. The world spun. Their pleasure-filled sounds echoed against the shower walls. When Violet's body contracted around Peter, he let his own release come. His mouth covered hers, and as he pulsed into her repeatedly, she knew she'd never love a man this way again. They held each other as their bodies trembled, and eventually their breathing slowed. When she loosened her legs, Peter let her back down onto her feet.