To Have the Doctor's Baby (5 page)

“Hi,” she said, heart thumping as she met him in the entryway.

He held out the flowers. “For you.”

“Thanks. You really didn't have to.”

“I know. It's nothing fancy.” He put the pink carnations wrapped in green cellophane in her arms.

Her heart thumped a little harder and she went all gooey
inside. How sweet was this? If only he'd made a single similar gesture when they were married, the marriage might have survived. Leaving had been the hardest thing she'd ever done and one look at Nick reminded her why.

In his old brown leather jacket, cotton shirt and jeans, he couldn't possibly look more dashing, more masculine, more handsome. That attitude and his smile had swept her off her feet before, but this time she was in full control of her heart.

“You're very sweet,” she said, burying her nose in the fragrant flowers.

“Remember that when you're poring over project proposals and trying to decide which kids program to fund.”

She arched an eyebrow. “So, this is a bribe?”

“Actually I just thought of it. But, all causes being equal, how can you turn down the guy who brought you flowers?”

“I'll take that under advisement.” She looked at him and wished she could get a grip on her nerves. Facing down billionaire Las Vegas businessmen hadn't rattled her like this. “Right now I'm going to put these in water. Do you have a vase?”

“Not that I know of.” He went to the kitchen cupboard and pulled out a white plastic pitcher from the top shelf, a place way beyond her reach. “How about this?”

“That will work.” Grateful to have something to keep her hands busy, she filled it with water, then unwrapped the flowers and put them in. She moved the arrangement to the center of the island and said, “Pretty.”

Nick set down the bag and pulled out “to go” boxes. “I stopped at Peretti's for a bottle of wine and appetizers.”

She stared at him. This wasn't exactly a recreation of their first date. But sort of. The same food followed by the
same physical activity. The difference was that this time she knew exactly what she was doing. Sort of.

Again her heart thumped. He looked so cute, so appealing. The effort he'd made was incredibly sweet, but for reasons she didn't understand, that kicked up her nerves even more, into the reddest of red-alert zones.

What now? Food, wine, bed? Or bed, food, wine? Would they even want to eat afterward? Or would they retire to their respective corners? Should she make the first move? If so, what would that move be?

She leaned a hip against the island and folded her arms over her chest. “How was your day? Was there a lot to do after the weekend? I guess not. Because you're home now. I mean you said you would be, but stuff happens. After all, you're a doctor and if I remember right fall is a busy time for a pediatric pulmonologist. Kids go back to school and share every virus in the universe with friends and family. And allergies kick up triggering asthma. Not to mention sports—”

He touched a finger to her lips, stopping the verbal dump. “Take a breath. If you need it I've got oxygen in the car.”

“Really?”

“No.” His gaze skipped over her face, studying her intently. Looking for symptoms maybe? For a diagnosis? “You're nervous.”

Diagnosis right on. “What gave me away?”

“Aside from your monologue? All of which you remembered correctly, by the way.” One corner of his mouth turned up before he was completely serious again. “Are you sure you want to do this?”

“Yes.” Then she read between the lines of his question. “Have you changed your mind?”

“I notified my answering service that I'm unavailable
and instructed them to call Dr. Gallagher if there's an emergency.” A dark, delicious heat burned in his eyes. “I'll take care of the wine. You handle the appetizers. We'll sit and…just talk.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

Nick expertly opened the bottle and popped out the cork. While she arranged mozzarella sticks, fried zucchini and calamari on a plate, he carried two glasses of cabernet into the family room and set them on the table. Then he turned on the gas log in the fireplace before making a circuit of the room to shut off most of the lights. It was romantic.

But that was just Nick, she told herself. A goal-oriented overachiever. She was making this way more complicated than the situation called for.
That's
what was causing the nerves. She needed to separate feelings from the physical.

Act like a man.

Carrying the plate to the other room she whispered to herself, “Food, wine, talk.”

After setting it on the table, she took a glass then settled on the sofa, tucking her legs up beside her. Nick sat on her other side, close enough so that she could feel the warmth from his body. At some point he'd taken his jacket off, but the cotton shirt was an effectively manly look, too.

“So,” she said, taking a generous sip of wine. “How was your day, really?”

“Busy. And for all the reasons you mentioned.” He laughed. “Kids do get sick this time of year. They're playing soccer and football. There's pollen and dust. Not to mention smoke coming into the valley from the wildfires in California. That kicks up all kinds of respiratory distress in kids.”

Ryleigh drank her wine as he talked. Concern for
children showed in his eyes and she'd had firsthand experience with his dedication. When he got a call about a child in crisis, he was always available. “It's a good thing you've got Dr. Gallagher to take some of the load off.”

“If he works out. That's not a done deal yet.”

“But he's a good doctor.” It wasn't a question. Nick wouldn't have instructed his service that he wasn't available if there was no trust in the other man.

“He'll do.”

Nick got up and went to the kitchen, bringing back the wine bottle to fill her glass. He took a cheese stick from the plate, then sat beside her, this time close enough that their thighs brushed. Her breathing kicked up a notch, especially when the scent of his skin filled her head.

“Now tell me about your day. Did you get the businesses to cough stuff up till they screamed and cried uncle?” He took a bite of the appetizer.

She laughed. “The meeting went well. They were very generous. Most were familiar with the work Children's Medical Charities does.”

As she talked and drank her wine, relaxation kicked in. The fire, but mostly the man, made her feel warm all over. “I think everything is going to come together nicely.”

That's when Nick cupped her cheek in his palm and kissed her.

T
he sudden move shocked Ryleigh speechless, which wasn't much of a problem really since her mouth was otherwise occupied in a really spectacular way. Nick moved his lips over hers, slow and sweet, then trailed nibbling kisses down her chin and across her jaw. There was a place just behind her ear that was especially sensitive and he sucked on it. A feeling like an electric shock shot into her breasts and down her legs. She heard his breathing—fast, harsh, ragged.

He stopped, not touching her anywhere except his breath on her cheek. “You smell good.”

“Thanks.” She squeezed the wineglass hard, fully expecting it to shatter, then rested her forehead on his shoulder. “So do you.”

“Good to know.”

“So, what was that? Sneak attack?”

“If you say so.” There was humor in his voice and a
sexy note of need. “Call it an icebreaker. To get rid of the nerves. It's not a massage or meditation. But I thought it might help.”

“You thought right.” It was hard for her to stay nervous when desire ripped through her like a tornado in Kansas farm country. “It was nice.”

“There's more where that came from. Are you ready?”

She nodded, unable to form a word what with need knotting in her throat.

Nick took her wineglass and set it on the table along with his own. “This is the last time I'm going to ask. You haven't changed your mind, have you?”

“No.” The fact that she really,
really
wanted him was just an unexpected bonus in her quest to get pregnant.

“Okay.” He stood, then reached a hand down to her.

She put her fingers into his wide, warm palm and let him pull her to her feet. “Okay.”

Wrapping her hand in his, Nick led her to the stairs and they climbed together. It was like so many other times, except now there was no marriage. That didn't really matter. She'd yearned for him before they tied the knot and for a long time after the divorce. The way her body quivered and burned for him now proved that she didn't need to be in love to get physical.

At the top of the stairs, he turned right into the master bedroom and hit the switch just inside the door. Instantly a bedside lamp turned on. Like too many times to count, Nick walked to the side of the bed closest to the french doors leading to the outside balcony. The shades were drawn and white shutters closed on all the windows, sealing them in a private world for two.

He put a hand on the comforter and she did the same on her side, letting muscle memory take over. As they worked together folding down the bedding, she couldn't
tear her gaze away from his. Intensity flared, turning his eyes to blue flames. When the sheets were uncovered, Nick pulled his shirt from the waistband of his jeans and undid the first button.

Ryleigh's mouth went dry. Slowly he unfastened each one, parting the cotton and revealing teasing glimpses of the hair-dusted chest beneath. Her heart was pounding when his shirt finally hung open. She held her breath, waiting for him to take it off. To her extreme disappointment, he didn't.

“Have you done any more research that I should know about?” His voice was deep and rough and sexy.

“On?” Along with the rest of her body, her brain was having a meltdown. One word was all she could manage.

“The best position to achieve conception.”

She shook her head. “I've looked extensively. As I told you, there are two schools of thought and—”

“No definitive study exists for proof of either.” His grin revealed straight white teeth.

Her legs went weak and a trembling started in her thighs. “Each side makes a valid point in supporting their theory.”

He walked around the bed and stopped in front of her, threading the fingers of both hands through the hair around her face. “Then, let's do our own study.”

“We'll write a paper.”

“Or something.”

Gently, he held her face in his hands. In what felt like slow motion, he lowered his head until his lips brushed hers. The touch was tender and chaste. There was nothing insistent in the way he took her mouth over and over, letting familiar sensations drift through her. She slid her hands inside his opened shirt and settled her palms at
his waist. The skin was too hot, too tempting and she explored the expanse of his back, feeling the play of muscles rippling there. Emotions washed over her that she remembered from another lifetime but could have been just yesterday.

She wanted him just like before.

He moved a hand from her face and placed it on her lower back, just above her butt, urging her closer to his solid strength. They were pressed together from chest to knee and she could feel his need.

Just like before.

Knowing he still wanted her unleashed a flood of pent-up passion, and she kissed him back, putting all the frustration from the last two years into it. Her body was so in sync with his that she felt the instant when gentleness turned fierce and tender gave way to wild.

His breathing went from slightly rasping to ragged and harsh. His hands moved urgently over her, restless and demanding. With her palms pressed flat on his back, she could feel his increasing tension.

The marriage might be dead, but attraction and desire were not. Position planning and pregnancy strategy were forgotten as their bodies remembered the way it used to be between them.

Ryleigh rubbed her fingers over the dusting of hair on his chest until her nerve endings tingled. She touched his nipple and felt it grow hard as he hissed out a breath.

“That's not playing fair.”

She looked up and smiled. “I never agreed to.”

“Okay, but just remember you started it—” A challenging expression slid into his eyes, one that said he intended to finish it. He gripped the hem of her T-shirt and tugged it up and off, tossed it over his shoulder, then pulled her against him again.

She felt his fingers on her back just before the sides of her bra parted. When she settled her hand on the zipper of his jeans, he groaned. The tempo of passion shot up another notch as a silent signal passed between them. He pushed at her sweatpants while she struggled with his belt and jeans. When they were finally naked, he lowered her to the mattress and settled on his side next to her.

He took her breast in his hand and brushed his thumb over the taut nipple, sending exquisite electricity arcing through her. As his hand trailed over her belly and down between her legs, her breath came in gasps, as if she couldn't draw enough air into her lungs. Her hips moved, instinctively working to contain and increase the pleasure of his touch.

He slid a finger into her and tension coiled between her legs and her thighs trembled. With his mouth on hers, he swallowed her needy moan. He bent over her a little more and she lifted her hips, letting him know without words what she wanted. Needed. She felt him smile and knew he knew, but continued to tease her with his hands, fingers and mouth.

Tension and longing coiled and grew until she shattered into a million points of light. He held her while she came back together and the tremors slowed. Then he levered himself over her and nudged her legs wider. The feel of him pushing inside started the pleasure growing yet again. He reached between them to rub the nub of nerve endings as he stroked inside her, pushing her again to the breaking point.

His breathing grew harsh and ragged, while intensity flashed in his eyes. Then he groaned and went still before burying his face in the crook of her neck. She felt her own release break free and trembles of sensation flooded through her again.

Ryleigh wasn't sure how long he held her and wasn't quite ready when he let her go.

After rolling onto his back he said, “Wow.”

“Wow, indeed.” She blew out a long breath.

A few moments later he lifted onto his elbow and looked down at her. “I have it on good authority that remaining in a prone position can't hurt the chances of conception.”

“Ah,” she said smiling, “A man who listens and remembers. You're a phenomenon, Doctor.”

“I can do better than that.” He kissed her forehead, then pulled a pair of sweatpants from a drawer and stepped into them. “Stay here, I'll be right back. And don't forget to relax.”

Ryleigh laughed as he pulled the sheet and blanket over her. She probably couldn't move even if the house was on fire. Her whole body felt lax and bursting with satisfaction. But now that she'd caught her breath, the wonder of it all sank in.

She and Nick might have just made a baby.

But there was no she and Nick. They weren't a couple who could bask in the glow and excitement of starting this journey, anticipating together this next chapter in their life. That made her a little sad, but it couldn't be helped. As usual, everything in life was a trade-off. To get what she wanted more than anything, she had to feel this feeling of regret.

Nick reappeared with the wine bottle and two glasses, which he set on the nightstand beside her. “I brought you something.”

“That's really sweet.”

“I'm a sweet guy.”

“Yes, you are,” she agreed.

But it got better. He plumped the pillows behind her until she was half sitting. Then he poured and handed her
the glass of wine, took one for himself and settled on the bed beside her. It wasn't exactly like post coitus cuddling, she thought. And there was no reason to expect it. That would be personal. This was nothing more than biology.

“What should we drink to?” he asked.

She thought for a moment, then said, “The future. May we both get what we want.”

“That sounds like a plan,” he said, touching his glass to hers. “I hope all your dreams come true.”

The words tugged at her heart. Then she realized that this wasn't like before. The realization jolted her, left her shaken. The experience, the sex, had never felt quite so powerful and it wasn't just about trying to make a baby.

This was different because she had Nick's full attention. She didn't think that had ever happened when they were married. At least not that she could remember. It was probably just a fluke, an aberration, but testing the theory was loaded with risk.

They were friends and she wanted to keep it that way. Too many nights like this had the potential to coax her to the dark side. With luck, tonight had produced a baby. If so, she and Nick wouldn't have to see each other except for chance meetings at the hospital.

She crossed her fingers and tried to relax, let Nick's “guys” do their thing. She hoped the first time was the charm because doing this again could be problematic for their beautiful friendship.

 

On Saturday morning Nick closed and locked the front door, then followed Ryleigh to his SUV. After getting in, he turned the key in the ignition and drove out of the development on the way to Mercy Medical Center.

He couldn't say he looked forward to the children's asthma clinic every month, but this time Ryleigh was
going with him. That alone didn't explain his excellent good spirits, but if he was being honest with himself, that was part of it. The other part was sex on alternating nights since her fertile window opened. She'd informed him that doing the deed
every
night could deplete sperm count.

He'd been willing to take the chance that he had enough guys on the in-between nights to achieve the objective for which he'd been recruited. Apparently Ryleigh didn't agree. Or she had other reasons for working late every other evening, which was probably for the best. As much as he felt in control, reminders that this was only an arrangement were a good thing. And he tried not to think about what would happen if she got pregnant.

Or if she didn't.

Would she go to someone else to get the job done? The thought pissed him off.

“Nick?”

“What?” He glanced over at her in the passenger seat.

“Is something wrong?”

“No. Why?”

She was clutching the overhead handle on her side of the car. “You're going a little fast.”

The speedometer told him she was right, and he eased off the accelerator. “Sorry. Things on my mind.”

His rational side kicked in and he figured if she didn't get pregnant she'd probably get checked out to make sure there wasn't a physical problem preventing conception. He would do the same. And if he was the problem, he'd… There was no point in borrowing trouble, although it was hard for him not to. After losing Todd sooner than anyone expected, he'd learned to brace himself for the worst so when it happened he was prepared.

Ryleigh glanced over at him as he pulled onto the 215
Beltway. “So how many kids usually show up at these clinics?”

“It varies. A few to standing room only. Sometimes parents come alone, just for information.” He merged into traffic, then briefly met her gaze. “I've adjusted things since we first started doing it.”

“Who's ‘we'?”

“Myself. The respiratory therapy staff from Mercy Medical.”

“Are they volunteering their time?” She was jotting things down on a notepad in her lap.

“The director is. Tom's a salaried employee, but he shows up to help the women's group set up the equipment and make sure a respiratory staff member is there to do the lung-volume screenings on the kids. The therapist is paid an hourly rate for the time.”

“What's a lung volume?” She tapped her pen on the pad.

“We have the kids blow into a peak flow meter to register the fastest flow rate of air on exhalation. If they don't reach target, it means airways are starting to shut down and intervention is needed, usually a rescue inhaler. If that doesn't work, the kid probably needs to go to the E.R.”

And speaking of air, the inside of this car hadn't smelled so good since… Come to think of it, probably not since the last time Ryleigh had ridden in it. Long after her fragrance had faded, he'd sworn he could still smell her. In the house, too. Eventually he'd gotten the message that he was alone.