The Doctor's Instant Family Page 7

  Who takes care of you, Doc?

  It would be very easy to lean on him, to let him share her burdens. It was going to be a fierce battle to keep from doing just that.

  KELLY WASN’T HAVING any luck falling asleep. The queen-size bed was comfortable enough, but the atmosphere was still new and unfamiliar. Shadows played over the walls, reflecting in the dresser mirror. Wind batted the windows like a stranger asking to come in.

  The kids were in their own bed, a spacious double across the hall, and Chance had gone out on a house call. A woman had phoned complaining of chest pains.

  House calls. Being here was like stepping back into another era. Everything was so different. Right down to the Christmas tree they’d decorated that evening.

  There had been laughter and bickering and sensuality.

  The sensuality part was probably why she was still wide awake.

  They’d hung all the ornaments on the tree, most of them homemade. Then Kelly had turned and picked up the angel. Without permission or warning, Chance had lifted her as though she weighed no more than Kimberly and held her aloft to position it on the treetop.

  It was the tactile memory of her back taking that slow erotic slide down the front of his body that kept replaying in her mind, though.

  “Stop it, Kelly.” She pulled the quilt higher, clutching it under her chin to keep the chill air out, focusing her mind on the safer aspects of the tree. When they’d finished, she’d suffered a moment of dismay at the haphazard way the handmade ornaments were hung. It looked a little crazy, like a child’s tree. A far cry from the color-coordinated, strategically placed, shiny golds and reds she usually had.

  Yet the girls had never been this excited about their elegantly appointed California tree. Tonight their faces had glowed with happiness. Even Kimmy’s. And they’d made Kelly promise that every year from now on they’d string popcorn and cranberries and have a tree exactly like this one.

  Traditions. They were building more of them with Chance in a single week than she had with Steve in eight years. Sleigh rides, live nativity scenes, popcorn garlands—what next?

  A loud crash had her sitting straight up in bed, adrenaline pouring through her system. She strained her ears, trying to listen past the pounding of her heart.

  This was her first night living on Chance’s ranch, and because it was all so unfamiliar, she felt vulnerable. Last night had been different. She’d slept on the couch, merely a visitor. Chance had been home, and her children had been safe at Eden and Stony’s.

  Now if something went bump in the night, it was up to her to investigate. Oh, God, she didn’t want to. Chance had taken the dog with him, so she couldn’t count on ferocious barking and snarling to scare off a potential prowler.

  Scared half out of her mind and annoyed with herself because of it, Kelly slipped out of bed, put on her fleecy robe and slippers, and looked out the window.

  Chance was still gone. If he’d come home, she’d have heard his truck or seen his headlights flash in her bedroom window.

  She jumped when she heard the noise again. It sounded like someone was trying to come in the back door. Quickly she made her way across the hall to check on the girls. They were both asleep.

  She wasn’t the bravest person on the planet, but she knew she had to investigate the noise. If someone was outside, she needed to call the sheriff, protect her kids. But she didn’t want to drag the deputies out to Chance’s house on a wild-goose chase.

  Her nerves jumped and her fingers tingled. Adrenaline still had her heart thumping in her chest. Well, damn it, it was spooky being in an unfamiliar house, out here all alone with just her girls. She was used to the boardinghouse, and before that, having neighbors only six feet away—clearly within calling distance.

  Talk about a fish out of water—that was exactly how she felt.

  She crept into the living room, where the fire was nothing more than orange embers in the grate. The tree stood in the corner like a menacing shadow. Instead of twinkling lights, construction-paper ornaments glowed white against the dark green. Watching her.

  Oh, for heaven’s sake. She was working herself into a state.

  The sound came again. Closer. Heart thundering, she stood on the hearth, retrieved the key hidden in an urn Chance had pointed out to her earlier, and unlocked the shotgun rack that hung high over the fireplace mantel. She had no idea if the weapon was loaded, had only a marginal idea of how to fire it—which she was not going to do. But she could use it to scare someone off. Or to hit them over the head.

  Armed with a mother’s protective instincts, self-preservation and not a speck of confidence, she flipped on the porch light outside the back door and peered through the window, half expecting to see a face staring back at her. She’d have died on the spot if there had been.

  There was no movement and no noise. She ought to just go back to bed. But she’d come this far. She’d never rest if she didn’t satisfy herself that all was well.

  Certain that she was overreacting and being ridiculous, she eased open the back door. A blast of frigid air stung her cheeks, swirled beneath the collar of her robe.

  She stepped outside, gun pointed, one finger on the trigger. A button shifted beneath her thumb, but since the gun didn’t do anything ominous, she didn’t bother to look down.

  A scratching noise had her whirling around.

  She didn’t know who was more scared. Her or the raccoon that looked up at her. Her hands trembled and her arms shook with the weight of the shotgun.

  “For heaven’s sa—”

  The next several seconds happened too fast for Kelly to process. A horribly ugly animal darted out from behind the trash cans, charging right for her. Not the raccoon, but another creature.

  She slammed her eyes shut. Oh God, oh God, oh God…

  Reflexively, accidentally, she squeezed the trigger and scared herself silly when the shotgun unexpectedly blasted fire and kicked hard against her shoulder.

  Oh, dear Lord. Had she hit it? She wanted to open her eyes and look, but she was afraid of what she’d see. A poor animal blown to smithereens or one charging at her with its teeth bared? In either case, she took her hand completely away from the trigger, eliminating the chance of another accidental firing.

  “Hey there, Annie Oakley.”

  Kelly screamed and whirled around.

  Chance held up his hands, even though the shotgun was pointing toward the ground. “Do me a favor, babe, and press that little Safety button under your thumb.”

  “That’s what got me in trouble in the first place.” Her hands were shaking so badly it took a moment to locate the switch thing. “Damn it, Chance. You scared me half to death.”

  “Scared that possum more, I suspect.”

  “A possum? Did I hurt it?”

  “Nope. Killed the trash can, though. A shame. I was kind of partial to that one.”

  “The…?” Sure enough, the plastic trash barrel had a huge hole ripped in its side.

  Chance stood in the moonlight, hat cocked back on his head, shoulder resting on the porch post, amusement dancing in his sexy-as-sin blue eyes. She had a very real and unladylike urge to scream again.

  She’d never live this down, she was sure of it.

  “I’ll buy you a new one.” Her tone was surly. There was no help for it. She was mortified and shaken to the core. And freezing her butt off. Again! The timing of her visit to Montana was off by a good six months—unless they never had a summer in this part of the country.

  “Here.” She shoved the shotgun into his hands and marched back into the house with as much dignity as she could muster.

  Chance watched her go, then followed her inside. She was standing in front of the fireplace, where the dying embers put out hardly any warmth.

  He shifted her to the side and decided against grinning when he saw the look on her face. He had sisters, so he was pretty good at reading a woman’s mood.

  This one was contemplating murder.

  “I
’ll just put this away.” He’d already cracked the barrel and unloaded the gun, so now he lifted it back on the rack above the mantel and relocked the safety clamps that held it in place.

  “You think I’m an idiot, don’t you.”

  “No. You ever shot a gun before?”

  “The answer to that ought to be fairly obvious. And I didn’t intentionally shoot that one.”

  “Mmm.” His lip was going to bleed if he kept biting it. “I’ll take you out and give you some pointers.”

  “Wait until spring and I might take you up on it.” Summer would be better.

  He tossed a log on the fire, looked at her. Would she still be here come spring? Could he convince her to stay? Could he compete with her world and her medical practice waiting for her in California? He doubted it. And for that reason alone, he ought to guard his heart, keep his distance.

  Trouble was, he didn’t often do things that were all that good for him. Hardheaded is what his dad had always said he was.

  “I’ll have this fire going again in a minute, and you’ll warm up.” Though in his opinion, the furnace was doing a more-than-adequate job of keeping the house comfortable. Then again, he was used to the weather. Kelly was from California, the land of sunshine and warm winters. “So what prompted you to go on a possum-hunting spree?”

  She glared at him. A smart man would have given her room. Chance moved closer, enjoying the fire that spit from her green eyes.

  “I heard a noise, okay? It sounded like someone was trying to get in the house. You took the dog with you, so I had no way of knowing if it was friend or foe.”

  “Out here we don’t get much crime. I can’t remember the last time someone had a break-in. Except for the time Jed Cooper got drunk and ended up crawling in bed with Mrs. Hartly.”

  He saw the smile tug at the corner of her mouth and had the strongest urge to press his lips there.

  “I take it Mrs. Hartly didn’t welcome him?”

  “Nope. Neither did Mr. Hartly. Sheriff ended up tossing them both in the slammer—Mr. Hartly and Jed Cooper.”

  “So Cooper ended up sleeping with a Hartly, after all.” Her eyes were losing their terrorized, petulant look.

  “Yes, though come to find out, he didn’t have designs on Miz Hartly. He was just too drunk to remember which house was his and went in the wrong door.”

  “It wasn’t locked?”

  “Not likely. Mine never are.”

  “Oh, God, I’m glad I didn’t know that earlier. The only thing that kept me halfway sane was believing an intruder was going to have to bust a lock to get in.” She stopped, frowned, then her gaze darted to his. “It wasn’t locked. I remember now. I was so worked up I didn’t notice.”

  He told himself to keep his hands in his pockets. He found himself reaching out, rubbing his palms over the fleecy sleeves of her robe. “There’s no danger here, Hollywood.”

  “Try telling that to my brain. I doubt that thirty years of caution, double dead bolts and sophisticated security systems will just disappear. The idea of a door being unlocked makes me feel really vulnerable.”

  “Then we’ll lock them.”

  “I’d appreciate it.” She sighed and dropped her forehead onto his chest. “I can’t believe I fired that gun. I could have killed that poor possum.”

  “If you weren’t intending to shoot, why take the gun in the first place?”

  “If I had the business end of a shotgun pointed at me, I’d run like crazy. I figured any other reasonably sane person would do the same.”

  “You ought to know folks intending harm are not always that sane.”

  “I wasn’t thinking much at all past the pounding of my heart. And I feel so stupid for overreacting.”

  He steered her to the couch. “Critters can make a lot of noise. And you’re not used to the place yet.”

  “I live in Bel Air where there’s hardly any space between the houses. Out here it’s not as if you can just run over to the neighbor’s house if you get scared.”

  “But they’ll always come running if you call.”

  “A person could be hacked to pieces by that time.”

  He chuckled. “What an imagination.”

  “I’m a city woman. I’m not used to creatures charging me.”

  “Mmm.” He put his arm along the back of the couch, pleased when she didn’t move away. “The varmints deserved to be scared, but the trash can was an innocent bystander.”

  Her head whipped around, her blond hair swishing across the shoulders of her robe. “You’re going to dine on that for a month, aren’t you.”

  He grinned. “At least for a day.”

  “What would it take to get you to keep this to yourself?”

  His gaze dropped to her mouth.

  “Chance,” she warned.

  He sighed and seriously considered the possibility that he might combust from the desire rushing through him. He didn’t move back, though. “Shame on you. I’d never blackmail you into a kiss.”

  He brushed his lips over her temple. She went absolutely still, but she didn’t pull away. Progress, he thought.

  “But persuasion. Now that I would do.” He lowered his head slowly, nibbled on her bottom lip, watched her green eyes darken. “How am I doing, Hollywood?”

  She exhaled a shaky breath. “Oh, the hell with it.” Her words were whispered against his lips as she cupped the back of his neck and pulled him to her, diving into a kiss that bypassed seduction and went right to carnal.

  Chance’s head spun, and it took a minute to get his wits. He’d meant to take it slowly, to cherish her. Yet the power of her kiss whipped through him, and before he even realized his intentions, he had his arm around her waist and tugged her beneath him on the sofa.

  “Wait,” she whispered, panting.

  His heart pounded. Their bodies were aligned the way a man wants his body aligned with a woman’s—breasts to chest, pelvis to pelvis.

  He pulled back and his lower body pressed even more snugly against hers. He barely suppressed a groan. “Too fast, right?”

  Her chest rose as she took a breath. Her green eyes studied him. “You know this is a bad idea, don’t you?”

  “It feels like a pretty good idea to me.”

  Her lips curved. “You’re not going to have your way with me, Doc. But darned if I’m going to waste a prime opportunity like this. Once more is all you get. And watch your head.”

  He’d forgotten about his stitches. As the blood pooled painfully in his loins, he let her urge him back down. This time, though, he’d had enough forethought to master his control.

  She wanted a kiss that was fast and physical. He could tell by the shallow breaths she took, the lift of her hips against him, the strength of her arms around him.

  He gave her slow. Very slow. If she was only allowing him once more tonight, he was damned well going to savor her.

  Kelly shifted, moaned, then gave herself up to the kiss. She didn’t know what possessed her to encourage him this way. But she was in heaven. She’d never had a man kiss her like this, so deeply, so thoroughly. His lips and tongue danced with hers, softly, carefully, gradually asking for more.

  She felt every inch of his body against hers, and despite her better intentions, she pulled him harder into the cradle of her thighs, torturing them both. It was pure madness, but she couldn’t seem to find the moral strength to stop.

  He came up for air, studied her for a long heart-stopping moment, then framed her face in his hands.

  “That was for you,” he murmured, his lips hovering bare inches above hers, his blue eyes dark and intense, his gaze steady. “And this one’s for me.”

  Wild, was all she could think as his lips closed over hers once again. And powerful. This was a kiss a woman wouldn’t soon forget. Raw and sexual and still somehow tender. It felt out of control, yet she knew he was completely aware, that he wouldn’t take either one of them someplace they weren’t yet ready to go.

  With skill and exper
tise he kissed her until colors exploded behind her closed lids, until she barely knew her own name. And then he was easing away.

  She nearly embarrassed herself and begged for more. She managed to subdue any more outbursts. Thank goodness he had enough willpower for both of them. If it had been up to her to stop, she didn’t think she could have done it. She’d have dived in and suffered the consequences tomorrow.

  “That was…something.” Understatement. She’d had no idea a kiss like that existed. Steve had been her first and only sexual experience, and he’d never done anything that came close to that…the unrestrained frenzy, that barely controlled feast of the senses that was somehow as tender as it was savage.

  Lord help her if she had let Chance go farther. She might not have survived.

  “Yeah, it was.” He eased off her and sat up, pulling her with him. “And I’m not going to apologize for it.”

  She used the momentum and stood, putting some distance between herself and temptation. “I don’t recall asking you for an apology. I had as big a part in this as you did.”

  His lips curved slightly. “And you did your part very well.”

  She was trembling, but she still smiled. She couldn’t help it. He was too cute. And too sexy. And too tempting. “Well, I’m not doing it again, so don’t get any ideas.”

  He studied her for a long moment. His gaze was lazy, but she didn’t fool herself. He was a man who noticed the smallest nuance of emotion, cataloged it.

  “What do you do for fun, Hollywood?”

  She frowned, not trusting this switch in the conversation. “What do you mean?”

  “You know. Fun. Playing—aside from killing the trash cans. Do you golf? Quilt? Run naked through the park?”

  She blinked, sure he was kidding about that last part. “I used to play the piano.”

  “Used to?”

  “Yes, used to. I work a lot, okay? What is this about, anyway?”

  “It’s about that kiss.” He came up off the couch like a sleek panther who had his prey in sight.

  Kelly stepped back, realizing she was the prey, and nearly fell over the coffee table. His hands were right there to steady her, though, to draw her in.

  “I’m willing to bet that was the first real kiss you’ve ever participated in. And that’s a crying shame.”