by Lori Wilde
Molly grinned, drool glistening on her cheek.
“I know it’s tasty, but I don’t think Dr. Avery would approve of the germ factor.”
Dr. Tobie Avery.
Clay blew out a long breath through clenched teeth. What was it about the woman that interested him so much? Sure, she was attractive as all get out with those shapely legs and that silky curtain of sleek jet-black hair, but so what? He met attractive women all the time, and they didn’t twist his guts into knots.
“Big deal. Forget it.” He could readily dissect mechanical things all day long, but for emotions, he preferred the head-in-the-sand method. His motto: if you ignore something long enough, it will go away.
Like the sexy sensations Tobie ignited inside him.
Molly looked up at him and cooed.
“You’re gonna be a heartbreaker, too, aren’t you?” Clay chucked a finger under the baby’s chin, and her outburst of laughter delighted him.
To keep Molly safe from his house littered with choking hazards, he plunked the baby down into her swing and gave her a teething ring to chew on. He settled back on his well-worn plaid sofa and picked up the conglomeration of cogs and gears that served as the internal guts to his recycling machine and settled in to work.
Country music blasted from his sound system, but Molly didn’t seem to mind. In fact, the baby nodded her head in time to the twangy beat.
His cell phone rang.
Clay scrambled in the sofa cushions for the remote control to mute the music and padded to the kitchen area to snag his cell phone off the kitchen counter.
It was Anne.
“Hey, sis,” he answered. “How’s your mom-in-law?”
“Not good.” She sighed.
Empathy for his younger sister sent a shiver down his spine. He could hear the stress in her voice. “Aww, I’m sorry to hear that. Anything I can do?”
“You’re doing it by looking after Molly. How is she?”
“Fine. She’s a great kid.”
“I’m so relieved.” His sister exhaled loudly. “We will have to stay in Omaha longer than expected. Maybe an entire week.”
A whole week? Yikes. Clay pressed his palm to his forehead.
“Clay? You still there?”
“Sure, sis.”
“Has the nanny arrived yet?”
“Uh, um, we’ve been so busy, I forgot to call.”
“You don’t have to do this on your own. Call the nanny.”
“I will, I will.”
“Not to be bossy or anything, but you better call the service now. If you wait too long, you won’t be able to get anyone out today.”
“I’m on it.
“Thank you again, Clay. You don’t know how much this means to us.”
“No biggie.”
“How is my precious angel? Is she being good?”
“Couldn’t be better.”
“You’re one in a million, brother. I’ll never be able to repay you.”
“Omaha steaks would be nice,” he joked.
“Done.”
“I was just teasing.”
“I wasn’t. You deserve a month’s worth of filet mignon.”
“Forget about the steaks. Just worry about taking care of Holt’s mom, and we’ll see you when we see you.”
“I’ll call again tonight,” Anne promised. “Goodbye.”
“Bye.” Clay switched off his phone, slipped it into his shirt pocket, and strolled back to the sofa. “That was your ma, Miss Moll—” He stopped mid-sentence. He’d left the swing too close to the coffee table, and the baby had leaned over far enough to knock his work supplies off the table. “Oh, no!”
Molly peeked up at him, a guilty expression on her face, a grayish stain around her mouth, and something clutched tightly in her fist.
Instant terror struck his heart. “Molly, what have you got?”
Clay leapt over the back of the sofa to get to her faster. He reached down and grasped her hand in his. “Let me see.”
Molly yowled.
Clay could see the same gray stain on her tongue. Oh, God.
Frantically, Clay pried her little fingers off the thin wire filament resting in her palm. He took it away from her and stuck the filament in his pocket. Panic charged through him. What to do?
Molly shrieked at the top of her lungs.
Was she in pain? How much had she swallowed? A flood of terrible scenarios rushed through his mind. What if the wire threads sliced up her throat? What if she had to have surgery?
Without stopping to think, Clay unsnapped her from the swing and started for the door. Only his bare feet hitting the warm wood of the front porch brought him back inside long enough to jam his feet into his cowboy boots. He took off for his pickup again.
After buckling Molly into her car seat, Clay drove like a speed demon to Tobie’s office. He burst through the door with Molly clutched to his chest, his lungs heaving great gulps of air.
“Where’s Dr. Avery?” He panted. “We’ve got an emergency here!”
Tiffani’s eyes grew as wide as jar lids as she got up from her chair. “What’s the matter, Mr. Barton?”
“I have to see Dr. Avery. Now!”
“Just a minute.” Tiffani disappeared through the door behind the receptionist’s desk.
Clay’s gaze swept through the waiting room. Several people stared at him curiously. He must look like a crazy man, with his hair wild and his rapid breathing.
Molly’s hot tears splashed on his bare arm.
Clay brought her to his shoulder. “Hurry,” he muttered. “Hurry, hurry.”
Tobie followed Tiffani into the lobby. She hadn’t expected to see Clay again and certainly not today. Her receptionist’s description of his panic had Tobie leaving a patient with his mother in the exam room where she’d been conducting a well-baby visit.
She stepped through the door into the waiting area, and her eyes met Clay’s. Stark fear lurked there.
“Please,” she said calmly, holding out her arm to guide the way. “Come on back.”
“Tobie…” Strong emotion strangled his voice. “Molly’s swallowed something she shouldn’t have.”
Intending to comfort him, she placed a hand on Clay’s shoulder. But instead of easing his distress, her own body reacted to the contact as if she had a raging fever. Perspiration broke out on her forehead. Her mouth went dry, and heat swamped her body, followed immediately with a shivering chill.
She moved away from Clay and escorted him into an exam room. “Tell me exactly what happened.”
“I had Molly in her swing in my living room.” Clay sat the baby on the exam table. “I didn’t want her getting into all that stuff I use in my inventions, so I put her in her swing where I could keep an eye on her.”
Tobie noticed his hands trembled, his face blanched pale. The baby had quieted, and she was staring at Tobie with interest.
“I was working on my recycling machine…”
“Yes?” Tobie urged, struggling hard to regain her professional composure.
Clay’s breathing slowed as he collected himself, swiping his brow with the back of his hand. “Whew. Is it hot in here, or is it just me?”
“You’ve been through a trying experience. Calm down, breathe deeply, then continue.” Tobie leaned against the exam table, her clinical gaze raking over Molly’s little body for any signs of problems.
Clay jabbed a hand through his hair. “My cell phone rang. It was Anne. I only left Molly for a few seconds, but when I came back...” He gestured helplessly at the baby. “She’d leaned out of her swing to grab something off the coffee table.”
He closed his eyes as if reliving the moment and gulped so hard Tobie could see his Adam’s apple dip and raise in response.
“Yes?”
“She had that gray stuff all over her mouth and tongue and this iron filament in her hand.” Clay dug the thready piece of metal from his pocket and passed it over to Tobie.
Tobie looked at it. “Iron, you
say?”
“Yes.”
“Hmm.” Tobie pressed her lips together.
“Is she going to be okay?”
“Is there anything else she might have swallowed?”
Clay nodded. “Could be a lot of things. There are bits of wood and rubber and metal all over the place. I wouldn’t even know what’s missing without taking inventory.”
Tobie pulled her stethoscope from her pocket, bent over, and laid the bell on the baby’s chest.
Molly chortled.
Tobie listened for several minutes then straightened.
Clay’s lips pressed into a grim line. “Well?”
“Her airway sounds clear. Her color is good. Nothing got stuck on the way down.”
“And?” Clay clasped his hands together and looked as nervous as any father would under the same circumstances.
Tobie shrugged. “If she swallowed something, it’ll probably pass through without a problem.”
“Is that it?”
“I could X-ray her.”
Clay nodded. “Yeah. Do that.”
“You’re not even certain she swallowed anything, are you? The gray residue on her mouth might simply be from sucking on the iron filament. I’m not sure an X-ray is warranted.”
Clay’s mouth twitched. “What do you think?”
Tobie frowned. “She’s not experiencing any symptoms that I can see. If you inspected your cabin again, could you tell what’s missing?”
“Maybe.”
“Tell you what, I’ll finish up with the patients, then we’ll go back to your cabin and take a look. How does that sound?”
“I suppose.” He pursed his lips, looking dubious. “Should we have her stomach pumped?”
“Let’s not overreact. Doing too much treatment could be more harmful than whatever she ingested. If she ingested anything at all.”
“Okay, makes sense.”
“I’ve got to check on my other patient, but then I’ll be right back. Let me know immediately if Molly has problems. Just push this red button here.” Tobie pointed to the red emergency button mounted on the wall. Briefly, she touched Clay’s arm and felt his skin tighten beneath her fingers.
She glanced at Molly. The child was playing with her toes. She seemed happy. Clay looked as if someone had beaten him up. His shoulders sagged visibly as he sat down hard on the stool.
“I’ll have Tiffani bring you a cup of coffee.”
“Thanks.”
Tobie left the room, closing the door behind her. Her heart fluttered, from the excitement over Molly’s condition or the intensity of seeing Clay again, she wasn’t sure which. Probably a little of both.
But one thing was clear. She cared more about those two than she probably should.
By the time she finished with the patient in the other exam room and returned to Clay and Molly, Tobie had convinced herself the odd physical attraction she felt when she touched Clay was due to lack of sleep and nothing else. Exhaustion could do strange things to a person.
“How’s she doing?” Tobie asked him as she came back into the room. Clay was sitting in a chair, holding Molly on his knee.
The baby gurgled.
“She’s fine,” he replied. “Me? I need a good stiff drink. Man, I never knew having kids could be so scary.”
“Come on,” she said. “Let’s make a trip to your cabin and see if you can find what she might have swallowed.”
Tobie whirled around and headed for the door. On her way out, she stopped and looked over her shoulder. The sight of Clay perched on the chair, Molly cuddled in his lap, brought a knot of longing to her throat. Would she ever have a family of her own?
Not if you stay with Edward.
The thought formed in her mind with the shocking clarity of an icy winter storm, and she knew she had to break off their engagement.
7
Clay, with Molly in his arms, led the way into his cabin. He watched Tobie’s gaze sweep the coffee table.
Her violet aroma teased his nostrils. Her hair, glossy as a raven’s wing, brushed against her cheek and stirred a sensuous warmth within him. Her pale skin was as delicate as fragile porcelain.
He fought a fierce urge to set Molly down, run his fingers along Tobie’s jawline, cup her chin in his palm, turn her face up to his, and kiss those sweet pink lips.
Forget it, Barton, he told himself, she’s engaged. Besides, what in Hades would Dr. Tobie Avery want with a mad inventor like you?
Tobie walked around the sofa, eyeing the mess. Molly’s swing lay on its side, where it had fallen over when he’d pulled Molly out, amidst the various pieces of metal, wires, and rubber.
Her long, tapered fingers rested on her hips. She kept her fingernails filed short and buffed shiny but wore no polish. She wore no rings or bracelets—
Wait. What? The huge diamond engagement ring was missing from her left ring finger.
“Where’s your ring?” he blurted out.
Looking mildly surprised, Tobie glanced down at her left hand. “I’m no longer wearing it.”
“What?” His heart lightened at her words. “Did you break up with your fiancé last night?”
She avoided his gaze. “I’d rather not discuss my personal life, if you don’t mind.”
“Does it have anything to do with me?”
Tobie completely ignored that. “Where was Molly when you found her?”
“Leaning across the table right here.” He pointed.
“Look everything over carefully,” she told him. “Think. Is anything missing?”
Clay shifted Molly to his hip, scratched his head, and studied the coffee table that served as his workbench. “Nothing seems to be missing, but I couldn’t say for one hundred percent certainty.”
Molly wriggled in Clay’s arms and whined. Bending over, he settled her into the swing he’d uprighted earlier. “So, what do you think?”
Tobie looked at the baby grinning up at her. “She seems fine. I think she just sucked on the filament.”
“She sure scared me. Now I understand what they mean when they say kids give you gray hairs.”
“But they are so worth the gray hair,” Tobie murmured. She sneaked a look at Clay’s head of thick light-brown hair. He would look quite distinguished with gray hair, she decided; the color would complement his steely eyes.
Tobie glanced down at her bare left hand, happy that she’d taken off Edward’s ring. Physical desires aside, Clay wasn’t the disease, but rather the symptom of her discontent.
But he was not the cure to her gotta-break-up-with-my-fiancé blues. She couldn’t let herself fall for a dreamer, no matter how appealing he might be. However, her fascination with Clay had shown Tobie one thing.
She wasn’t in love with Dr. Edward Bennet and never had been. She’d been willing to marry him because she craved security, and Edward represented the dependability she’d never had while growing up.
“Molly seems okay,” Clay said, scratching his head. “I’m sorry for the false alarm.”
“Better safe than sorry. You did the right thing bringing her in.”
“Thank you.” Clay’s fingers touched her shoulder.
The heat from his hand sent a tingle of expectation winging down her arm and suffusing her entire body in a warm, sparkling glow.
When he moved closer and lowered his head, she didn’t offer even a murmur of protest. She didn’t think at all, just sank against that broad chest and let his essence enfold her like the soft security of a down mattress.
Absorbing his fire, she closed her eyes, knowing what was coming and wanting it with every fiber of her being. She’d wanted his kiss from the first moment she’d met those stormy gray eyes.
Her hand curled around his cotton western shirt, and she could feel the corded muscles beneath her fingers. She reacted to his touch the way flowers react to the sun, reaching, hungry, searching for the warm light.
Tobie tilted her head back and waited.
Clay took her hand in his and pre
ssed her so close she melded into his skin. His lips came down on hers, weightless as butterfly wings.
That first taste of him was as rich and sweet as homemade ice cream. She wanted more of him. A lot more.
His lips moved, exploring.
She felt as if she were leisurely floating in a pool of cool water, languid, lazy, engulfed by the experience.
Clay deepened the kiss.
Time ceased.
Tobie knew nothing but the taste of Clay’s lips and the steady throbbing of their hearts pounding in tandem rhythm.
He placed one hand at the small of her back, caressing her skin and sending tingles to every nerve ending in her body. He searched her mouth with his tongue, and Tobie breathed in a heady sigh.
The hand at the small of her back inched up her spine until finally his palm was at her nape, his fingers spearing through her hair.
She returned the kiss, hot, hungry, eager. She heard Molly coo, but her mind didn’t register it. Clay’s kiss seemed to have stolen all her senses.
A deep, throaty groan shot from his throat as he broke the kiss and buried his face in the curve of her neck.
His tongue licked flames down her throat until Tobie wriggled with desire. So many sensations rioted in her body that she couldn’t identify them all.
“Oh, Tobie,” he said. “What are we doing here?”
What indeed? She placed her hands on his chest and pushed away from him. “I haven’t yet told Edward the engagement is off.”
“Tell him,” Clay rasped. “Soon. You can’t be in love with him if you can kiss me like that.”
Confused, Tobie turned away and brought a hand to her throbbing mouth. “I have to go. Call me if Molly has any problems.”
“Tobie, wait.” He reached out to take her hand, but she spun away.
“I have patients waiting.” Without another look back, without another word, Tobie turned and fled. More confused than she’d ever been in her life.
At six-thirty on Friday evening, Tobie fidgeted as she drove through the winding road to Edward’s hillside mansion in the small enclave where the wealthiest of Rascal’s residents live.
Expensive vehicles graced long driveways. Most houses in this neighborhood boasted swimming pools. A few had tennis courts. The residents were bankers, doctors, and lawyers, and their children went to the same private school. Here lived the best of the best that the town offered.
