The Millionaire and the M.D. (11 page)

“Okay.”

“Really. I'm not kidding.”

She frowned. “Are you trying to talk me out of it?”

“God, no.” His arms tightened around her. “I just don't want you to expect—”

She half turned and kissed his jaw as the devastating tenderness filled her again. “I only expect you to be you.”

“I can do that,” he said.

Then he moved his hand to the front of her scrub pants and tugged the tie until the waistband loosened. Her heart went from normal sinus rhythm to a cardiovascular workout in the blink of an eye. Her pulse throbbed when he slid his hand inside her panties, slipping a finger between her legs and finding the nub where all the nerve endings of pleasure came together. She gasped and would have crumpled at his feet if he hadn't been holding her.

With a sweeping gesture, he brushed her clothes down and she kicked them off. She pulled the hem of her scrubs top over her head and tossed it aside, then unhooked her bra and let it drop from her fingers. He was still behind her and lifted his hands to cup her breasts. The touch snapped a nearly uncontrollable wanting through her system.

She turned and started to unbutton his shirt, but he saved time and simply pulled it over his head. Then he slid off his shoes, unbuckled his belt and swept off his jeans and boxers and stood before her, completely naked and deliciously male.

Trembling with desire, she ran her hand over the dusting of hair on his wide chest. “You are definitely you.”

“And you are so beautiful I—” His eyes darkened with intensity as he shook his head. “I don't have the words to tell you how beautiful you are.”

“You don't have to say that. I'm a sure thing.”

“It's the God's honest truth.”

He swept her into his arms and settled her in the center of the bed. Before joining her, he took something from the pocket of his jeans, then met her gaze and grinned his Gabe grin.

“I…I didn't even think about—” she stammered.

“I did.” He shrugged. “I hoped.”

After putting on the condom, he stretched out beside her and took her in his arms. He lowered his head and kissed her slow, long and deep. It was a drugging kiss that churned her into a frenzy of need. The wanting couldn't wait, and he must have felt the same, because he parted her thighs then moved between her legs and slowly, gently entered her. She sighed with a relief that was short-lived as he started to move. Slowly at first, then as she caught his rhythm, he stroked deeper and faster taking her higher and higher. Too soon, her body seized around him as her eyes seemed to roll back in her head and indescribable pleasure exploded through her.

Moments later Gabe's face tightened and he went still for seconds before groaning out his own release. Spasms racked his body and his breathing was heavy and fast.

When it was over, he smiled down at her, an achingly sexy and warm expression on his face. “Kissing is relaxing, but sex is the ultimate stress reliever.”

“Does being right ever get old?” she asked, utterly and completely relaxed and satisfied.

“It's a gift.”

He kissed her softly, then rolled out of bed. Moments later the light in her bathroom went on.

Cold without his presence beside her, Rebecca pulled the sheet up over her nakedness as a scary thought took hold. It hadn't just been sex after all. It wasn't just a simple biological function. For her, sex would never be simple. If she trusted a man enough to be intimate, she was already in a lot of emotional trouble. Because if she risked again, and lost again, she wasn't sure she could recover.

Again.

G
abe made love to Rebecca once more when he came back to bed. He'd already crossed the line, a line he shouldn't have, so was there any more harm done?

He told himself the first time hadn't been his finest hour and he felt he owed her. But deep down he knew it was more than that. One taste of her sweet and unexpectedly innocent response when he'd touched her in a certain way, in a certain spot, hadn't been enough for him. Maybe it was because he'd wondered whether or not she would let him touch her at all. After the way she'd reacted the night he'd brought her home, he'd begun to consider the possibility that she'd experienced something bad, something like she said might have happened to Amy. But he didn't understand why she wouldn't tell him.

When she'd been sitting downstairs looking like temptation for the taking all the while touting the benefits of kissing in that sweet, sexy voice, he'd wanted to pull her into his arms and play science until they proved the validity of every single one of those silly suppositions.

Instead, he'd held back and let her take the lead. Man, she'd taken the lead. Led him around like a puppy after a treat. Then she'd treated him again, and the best part was her snuggled in his arms right now, and he tightened his hold. Having a passenger in his car wasn't the only thing he'd missed.

He stroked the smooth, soft skin of her arm. “How are you?”

“Definitely not stressed,” she said, brushing her hand over his chest.

The movement rubbed her body against his and stirred him again, partly because it wasn't meant to, and partly because he couldn't get enough of her. To throw a little light on the subject, he reached beside him and turned on the bedside lamp.

Rebecca covered her eyes and pulled the sheet up to cover her body, as if he hadn't just recently seen and kissed almost every inch of her. As if he didn't already know her by heart.

“Bright light,” she said.

“I want to see that beautiful face.”

Translation: he wanted to see her eyes glaze over when he pleasured her and her full lips part when he relieved her stress.

“You are such a liar,” she scoffed.

“Which part? That I want to see you?”

“No. The beautiful part.”

He tapped her nose. “That's where you're wrong, brainiac. You're a knockout. I had to warn Jack away. He started drooling when he first saw you in the hospital cafeteria.”

“Really?”

“As God is my witness.” Gabe stared into her big, guileless eyes and realized she wasn't being coy or fishing for compliments. She genuinely didn't get what a head-turner she was.

What other facets of her personality was she keeping secret? he wondered. He glanced around her room and noticed the lamp was sitting on a box, not yet unpacked. Across from the bed was a dresser with no mirror above it and no pictures or perfume bottles on top. Now that he thought about it, her bathroom hadn't been filled with makeup and hair stuff, either. He hadn't realized he'd expected to see that until he hadn't. Downstairs there weren't any pictures on the white walls or photos casually scattered around. Or even knickknacks.

He knew she hadn't lived there long, but the place was almost barren, devoid of clues about who she was and what her life had been like. No pictures, posters or souvenir ticket stubs from a concert. It was nothing like the home Hannah had made. She couldn't wait to put her personality in the rooms and paint one wall in a bold accent color. He used to tease her about running out of wall space to hang things.

Gabe waited for the knot of pain to tighten in his chest the way it always did when he thought of Hannah. It was disconcerting when the memories only produced a bittersweet warmth instead.

“You're awfully quiet all of a sudden,” Rebecca commented.

“Light does that to me.”

“How diplomatic. More likely you got a good look at this face and changed your mind.”

“Hardly,” he said, then kissed the tip of her nose. “I was just wondering about you.”

“What does that mean?”

“That I know very little about you.”

And he wanted to know everything. Jack was right. He'd been living, but not really
living.
He'd been so wrapped up in his own grief and pain, he hadn't cared to know anything about anything or anyone unless it concerned work. But meeting Rebecca had changed that and he wasn't sure it was a good thing. Not that holding her wasn't good. Really good with an exclamation point. But what about tomorrow?

“There's not all that much to know,” she said.

“I disagree. But let's start with what I've got. Your parents are accountants—and technically that's not personal information. You skipped grades in school. You're a doctor. And you're really, really smart. And young. And beautiful.”

“You think you can flatter information out of me?” Her eyes were warm with humor.

“Maybe,” he said. “I suspect flattery is torture because you don't know how to deal with it.”

“Are you playing doctor?”

He grinned. “I'd be happy to play doctor anytime, but right now I'm more interested in knowing you.”

“You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?” she asked.

“That's not my plan. Let's start with how you can't take a compliment.”

She shrugged. “I'm a brainer geek. And in my defense I'd like to say that they didn't offer classes on learning to gracefully accept compliments in medical school. In fact, there weren't all that many compliments handed out then, or during my internship and residency.”

“Now that's what I'm talking about,” he said. “Tell me about that time.”

“I was busy. So much to learn. Not enough sleep. It was hard.”

“More details, please.”

“It was
very
hard.”

“Not funny, Doc.”

“What else do you want to know?”

Good question. He wanted to know what she wanted to tell. Starting with: Was there time for a boyfriend? Had she ever been in love? Did she want to be?

But he couldn't ask that. He had no right when he didn't want to be. Instead he said, “How did you choose your medical specialty?”

She was quiet for so long he thought she wasn't going to answer. Finally she said, “I think the seed was planted the first time I saw a baby born.”

“So you like babies?”

“Not in the ‘woman sees baby…woman's biological clock is ticking…woman must have baby' way.”

“How, then?”

She sighed. “I thought it was extraordinary. A brand-new life coming safely into the world. Knowing all the factors that make a successful birth. It was, quite simply, the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. A miracle.”

That sort of put into perspective his comment about her being beautiful. Compared to the miracle of birth, she didn't put her looks on the top ten. He found that refreshing, endearing. The way his heart skipped made the revelation downright dangerous.

“So, that's how you decided what you wanted to be when you grew up?”

“That started the ball rolling. And delivering babies is a deeply satisfying aspect of what I do. But I chose this field of medicine because I wanted to work with and help women.”

It was her phrasing and the tone that really caught his attention. Women. Not couples or people in general. She'd specifically chosen a specialty that was all about women. And just like that he remembered the panic on her face when she awakened suddenly and pushed him away. When the question wouldn't leave him alone, he had to ask it.

“Did you choose your specialty to avoid men?” Because he was still holding her, he felt her body tense. “What, Rebecca?”

“Nothing.”

Was it also nothing that made her suddenly pull out of his arms? She rolled off the bed and disappeared into the shadows beyond the circle of light. When she came back, she'd put on a serviceable pale-yellow terry-cloth robe, belted tightly at the waist.

She looked down and there were definitely shadows in her eyes, although she was standing in the light now. “It's getting late, Gabe,” Rebecca said, then left the room.

What just happened? Gabe sat up and dragged his fingers through his hair. One minute she was relaxed and funny. The next she was tossing him out. He'd hit a nerve and that's what he wanted to know about.

He rolled out of bed and got dressed, then went downstairs where she was making a cup of tea. She didn't offer him one and he'd have turned it down, anyway. Nothing short of whiskey neat would have suited his mood.

“What's wrong, Rebecca?”

She didn't look at him for several moments and he suspected she was putting her “doctor” face on. When she turned, her expression gave nothing away. “There's nothing wrong, Gabe. Like I said, it's getting late.”

“Not that late.” He stood on the other side of the bar and rested his elbows on the granite. “Tell me why you suddenly clammed up.”

“I don't know what you mean.”

“I
mean
one minute we were basking in the post-coital glow. Bantering, better known as pillow talk, which I was enjoying very much. Then you pulled your head back in your shell because I asked if you do what you do to exclude men from your work.”

“I don't exclude men. Every day there are expectant fathers in my office, supporting their wives through a pregnancy that involves their child.”

“But technically the man isn't your patient.”

“That's true.”

He walked around the bar and stood in front of her. “And you're trying to change the subject. Where did you go, Rebecca?”

“I'm right here.” She glanced at the clock. “Speaking of going, Amy will wonder where you are.”

“If she's worried, she can call my cell.”

“Her pregnancy is advanced and she shouldn't be alone, Gabe.”

He put his hands on his hips and glared at her. “Are you throwing me out?”

Her gaze raised to his chest and stayed there for several moments while the pulse in her neck beat really fast. Then she looked up, a stubborn set to her delicate jaw. “I'm just saying it's late and I have to work tomorrow. As I'm sure you do.”

He knew there was something she wasn't telling him. He also knew nothing he said would change her mind about that and it really ticked him off.

“Have it your way,” he said, and headed for the door.

He thought she would follow, but she didn't, and he strongly suspected it had a lot to do with not wanting a goodnight kiss as he left. It would be intimate, and he got that. But they'd just been as intimate as a man and woman could be, yet there was a part of herself she wouldn't share. The more closed off she was, the more he wanted to know. That's when he realized he was getting sucked into her.

Gabe knew that was a signal that he'd moved forward in the grieving process. He'd taken a step away from Hannah, a step closer to feeling something—something big—for another woman. He didn't want to feel anything, and Rebecca's attitude should have been a relief.

It was damned annoying when he realized he wasn't relieved at all.

Rebecca leaned back in her chair and tossed her glasses on her desk. Grace was in the front office filing, billing and answering the phones. Today was the day for patients only in the morning, and the afternoon was to catch up on paperwork. Last night was the night she proved to Gabe beyond a shadow of a doubt that she was too much trouble for him to bother with.

When he'd asked if she was throwing him out, she could only think that he was way too big for that. She desperately had wanted to ask him to stay the night, but she couldn't have done that. Better for him to think she was a whack job than risk another flashback panic attack when she woke with a man beside her. Just one and her fiancé had insisted she tell him about the assault. That's when he'd broken the engagement because she was too needy for him. After the way Gabe had looked at her, Rebecca didn't expect to see him in her bedroom ever again. That was sad; she liked him a lot. And he was a superior kisser. The sex was great, too. The only silver lining she could find was that she'd ended it on her terms.

I am Woman, she thought. Hear me roar…. Whimper was more like it.

She put her glasses on and continued her charting until talking—back-and-forth conversation type talking—from the front office caught her attention. She heard a man's deep voice, then Grace's infectious laugh. Maybe Jack O'Neill had stopped by. The two had seemed to hit it off yesterday when he'd brought Amy in for her appointment.

She stood and stretched, then pulled her office door wide and poked her head out. The man's voice came to her more clearly and it was familiar, except it wasn't Jack's. Her heart beat faster when she recognized Gabe. What was he doing here?