Slumped wearily in front of the nurses' station, Luke scrawled his initials next to a change in meds for Carrie Denney before handing the chart back to charge nurse Margot Stanley.
"Is that a four or a seven?" she asked, stabbing her pen at one of his scribbles.
"Seven." After thirty-eight hours without sleep during which he'd seen three mommies through to delivery, he was damn lucky he could hold a pen.
"Full moon this weekend," Stanley said as she filed the chart. "Thank goodness I'm off."
"Me, too."
"Uh-huh."
"Honest. Winslow's covering."
"Winslow should have her head examined." At the sound of a sultry female voice Luke turned to find Karen Winslow approaching, looking as chic as a model in her surgical scrubs. "Can I buy you a cup of coffee, Doctor?" she asked after exchanging greetings with Stanley.
"Guess you can, yeah."
Straightening took effort. Walking without a limp took more. Luke managed both, but he knew he was running out of time.
"I tried to return your call earlier, but you were delivering a baby, and then I was," she explained as they walked toward the elevators at the end of the corridor.
"Mama of twins decided to deliver early." Passing the nursery, Luke smiled at a proud grandpa making faces through the window at a little redheaded darlin' in a bassinet.
"I heard it was fairly dicey for a while."
Luke didn't want to think about how close they'd come to losing a very special lady—and the babies she'd risked her life to carry. "Mama has a history of heart problems."
"How's mommy doing?" Winslow asked as he punched the elevator button.
"Sleeping. Babies are in the neonatal intensive care unit. Paul Melendez thinks they'll make it." The elevator doors opened and a tech pushing a patient in a wheelchair exited.
"I assume you called about Mrs. Foster?" Winslow asked as they stepped together into the car.
"Yeah." Luke punched the button for the basement, then braced his back against the wall. "I think it's only fair I tell you this case is … a little complicated."
Winslow's tired gray eyes gleamed with sudden speculation. "You're involved?"
"Guess we are, but only after she made it clear I was no longer her doctor." He met her curious gaze steadily. "You have my word."
"I never doubted that for a moment, Luke." She smiled. "I'll take good care of her for you. You have my word on that."
"I appreciate it." The car jolted to a stop and they stepped out.
Five minutes later they were settled at one of the tables in the cafeteria. "Just to be sure, I did another ultrasound, but nothing's changed since the last one," Winslow said before digging into her cherry pie.
Luke toyed with the heavy mug and wondered how to phrase his next question. Finally he gave a mental shrug and went with his gut. "Don't take this wrong, okay, but I want your word on something else, too."
She glanced up, her fork poised halfway to her mouth. "What's that?"
"That if you detect the slightest hint of a problem, you'll call me so we can talk about it."
"Certainly, Doctor." Her gaze cooled, and he cursed the lack of tact that had gotten him in trouble more than once.
"Karen, it's not that I doubt your professional judgment. Just the opposite, but I've had eight or nine more years of experience. And the signs of potential trouble are tough to spot, even for me."
Her gaze turned thoughtful. "Would it ease your mind if I faxed you my examination notes after each visit?"
"Guess it would, yeah. Thanks."
She took a bite, swallowed, then gave him a commiserating look. "It's hell being on the other side, isn't it, Doctor?"
He laughed. "Pure misery, darlin', and that's a fact."
* * *
Chapter 14
« ^ »
"If L.J. misses this party, I'm going to brain him with that huge historical novel we bought him, wrapping and all," Prudy declared as she glanced at the clock. It was nearly four. Luke was due at seven.
"I haven't heard from him since Wednesday morning," Madelyn admitted before licking icing from her finger.
Raine glanced up from the canapés she was arranging on her mother's silver tray. "Maybe he's scared."
"Of what?" Madelyn scoffed. "Certainly not of rejection. I practically threw myself at him."
"Boyd ran away from me for a while," Stacy said as she placed a tray of cold cuts in Madelyn's fridge. "He was afraid he hadn't laid his demons to rest and didn't want to hurt me. Maybe Luke feels the same way."
Raine nodded. "It makes sense. After we lost Mike, Morgan felt so guilty he withdrew into his work so he wouldn't have to feel."
Surprised, Madelyn glanced up. "Mike?" she asked.
"I was pregnant when Morgan and I married. Our son died in a skiing accident when he was eight. Morgan blamed himself because he'd canceled out on the trip at the last minute."
"I'm so sorry," Madelyn said softly.
Raine smiled. "He told me later the hurt was so bad he couldn't deal with it, so he exhausted himself with work."
"You have to admit Luke is a workaholic," Prudy contributed helpfully.
"And he does feel guilty," Raine added. "It's in his eyes every time he sees you with one of the kids."
"When Boyd told me Luke had gone back for me, I thought … well, you know what I thought," Madelyn muttered, slathering icing on the cake.
Stacy smiled. "That he loved you."
"A logical conclusion," Prudy added, waving celery.
"I'd put money on it," Raine declared before carrying plates into the dining room.
"Maybe then, but I'm not so sure now."
"Could be he wants more than sex this time," Prudy offered before taking a bite.
"That's just it! I'm not sure what I want, but if we never spend time together, how will I ever find out?"
"Now that you've officially become Dr. Winslow's patient, he's free to court you." Raine glanced pointedly at the bouquet of white carnations on the kitchen table.
"The card just said thanks for taking care of him," Madelyn complained, but her face softened.
"He invited you to dinner," Stacy reminded her.
Madelyn stared at the swirls of chocolate decorating the cake. "Why do I think I'm making a terrible mistake?"
"Because you're scared, too," Prudy declared firmly. "Love's like that. One minute you're floating on this pink cloud, the next you're terrified and looking for reasons to run away."
* * *
"I see the Jeep," Chloe said, turning away from Madelyn's front window, her eyes shining. This time it looked as though they'd actually get to have a party.
"Okay, everyone out of sight," Madelyn ordered, her stomach fluttering.
The four little girls giggled as they raced into the spare bedroom. Prudy and Raine joined Stacy and Boyd in Madelyn's bedroom where they'd gone to change B.J. Grinning, Don gave her a quick hug for luck before shambling after the girls.
By the time the doorbell rang, Madelyn was alone in the living room, wishing fervently she'd never come up with the surprise-party idea. All week long she'd looked forward to seeing Luke again. Now she was going to have to share him with a houseful of people.
Second time's a charm, she told herself as she straightened her long-sleeved silk tunic and walked to the door. Harriet's grandmother clock began chiming seven.
Luke stood on the doorstep, his face half-hidden by the brim of a dove-gray dress Stetson hat. Instead of the faded cotton shirt and jeans worn paper thin at the stress points, he wore a navy blazer skillfully tailored to accommodate his wider-than-average shoulders, and tan sharply creased slacks that broke perfectly over highly polished dress boots. Beneath the blazer, he wore a crisp pale-blue shirt, which was open at the throat to reveal the dark chest hair that had tickled her nose.
"Your date's here, ma'am," he drawled as he removed his hat and ran one big impatient hand through his glossy hair. It was a familiar gesture, one she'd st
ored away, then made herself forget.
"And right on time," she said when her senses stopped jangling. "I'm impressed."
His gaze swept over her briefly before it returned to her face. It wasn't a brazen look, and yet Madelyn was painfully aware of her nipples hardening and tingling inside her bra.
His mouth slanted. "I'm thinking I'd better stop off and buy me a tie before dinner."
"Are you saying I'm overdressed?" she asked, glancing down at the lavender shirt and conservative navy skirt that was a decent inch below her knees.
"Guess I have to admit to bein' partial to the way you looked sitting in my bed, but I like you all polished up, too. Although I gotta admit it intimidates the heck out of me." He was teasing of course, she realized, considering the obviously expensive clothes and glossy black boots that must have cost more than her entire outfit.
Wiley had been a fanatic about always buying the best. It gave her a small jolt of satisfaction to realize that Wiley's shoulders never filled out a classic blue blazer the way Luke's did.
"Come on in while I get my purse." She stepped back and he followed. She heard a muffled giggle, and his head came up.
"Was that the cat?"
"No, uh, actually—"
"Surprise!"
"Happy birthday, Uncle Luke."
The room was suddenly filled with children, shouting and laughing. Luke froze, then went pale. "Was this your idea?" he asked as the twins tried to climb his legs.
She nodded. "Are you angry?"
Instead of answering, he hooked one hand around her neck, leaned down and kissed her until her toes were curling and her blood sizzled. She swayed a little when he let her go.
The room broke into wild applause, and she blushed. "Not bad, hoss," Boyd said, grinning. "For an old guy."
* * *
Don Petrov left at ten. He was the last. Before the others had left, the ladies had made her promise to leave everything until tomorrow, and she'd meant to do just that. But as soon as she and Luke were alone, she was so nervous she couldn't sit still. "I think I'll just tidy up—"
He caught her before she took more than two steps, swinging her into his arms. "Not a chance, darlin'. I've been waitin' all night to have you to myself again."
One hand dove into her hair at the same time his mouth came down on hers. Her senses scrambled and her bones melted. She tasted chocolate and a lonely man's need before he drew back. Unsteady on her feet, she clung to him, her belly tucked hard against his. His grin was a little crooked as he smoothed back the hair his hands had made into a tousled mane.
"Don't get me wrong, honey—the party was damn near perfect, but I thought it would never end."
"Is that why you tore into your presents like one of the twins on a rampage?"
The look he gave her held a touch of that same boyish devilment. "Nah, that was pure greed."
A laugh bubbled up in her throat. "I was so afraid you'd get a call and have to leave."
"Not a chance. I had Winslow cover me tonight."
She blinked. "But you thought it was just dinner."
"Dinner with you, Maddy. Nothing is more important than that." He linked his arms around her and bumped his belly against hers. He'd taken off his jacket and rolled his sleeves. "How's baby tonight?"
"Worn-out from all the partying," she said with a laugh.
"How about Mama? Is she worn-out, too?" Though teasing, his voice held a note of concern.
"More like sleepy. I tend to fade with the sun these days."
Frowning, he ran a measuring gaze over her face. "Then I'd better get out of here so you and baby can get some sleep."
She drew a shaky breath. "Not before you unwrap my present."
"I thought the party was your present."
She shook her head. She felt a little giddy as she took his hand and moved it to the top button of her silk tunic. "Start here." She'd tried so hard to make her voice into a sexy purr. Instead, it wobbled. Feeling like a perfect idiot, she gave a little cry and buried her hot cheek against his shoulder.
"I'm terrible at this," she muttered against the unyielding muscle.
He choked a laugh. "Sweetheart, if you were any more terrible, I'd be dead."
She groaned. "I'm sorry."
"I'm not." As though to prove his point, he took her hand in his and pressed it to the hard ridge of his arousal. "That's how much I like your present, sweet-heart."
Emotions flashed through her mind until she was a little dizzy. It was pure bliss, having this strong man turning to putty because of her.
"I can't seem to stop wanting you," she whispered helplessly. "Is that wrong?"
His eyes went dark. "Not where I'm standing." His mouth aligned with hers, came down softly. Her lips were ready, aching. His kiss was gentle, yet edged with fire ready to kindle.
"Definitely sweet." He nibbled at her lips, pushing the tip of his tongue into the corner of her mouth, then withdrawing it, teasing her, tantalizing her, finally deepening the kiss until her senses reeled.
She liked the feel of his big hard body rubbing slowly against hers, caressing her, provoking her, and she loved the feel of his hands stroking her arms, her breasts, her belly. Heat rocketed through her, and she rubbed against him, letting his chest abrade her nipples until the tiny peaks turned hard and aching.
She let out a gasp of pleasure, delighting in the shower of sensations. Heat and chill, throbbing pulse and bone-melting sighs. Her body began to hum and then to vibrate with a primitive force, and she ran her hands over his shoulders and down his arms.
Between kisses, he stripped her of the silk tunic. His muscles bunched as he stripped off his own shirt and unbuckled his belt. Caught up in her urgency, she unfastened her bra and tossed it aside. Impatient now, they finished undressing quickly.
His eyes glittered as he watched her. "You take my breath away," he whispered, his hands reverent as they caressed her belly. Arching upward, she pressed against him, her mouth seeking his. He moaned, then kissed her passionately and deeply before breaking off to scoop her up into his arms.
"Luke, your back!" she protested as he swung her around.
He bent his head and kissed the curve of one breast before asking, "Which way to your bedroom?"
"Through the hall to the right."
She buried her face in his throat and felt the rapid throbbing of his pulse against her cheek.
"Boy, howdy, look at that!" he said when he caught sight of Harriet's canopy bed. "Can't imagine any man with blood in his veins sleeping in a bed with ruffles on the pillows and shiny beads hanging over his head."
"They're seed pearls," she said with a nervous smile. "When you look up, they … they shimmer in the moonlight like little stars."
"I still say it'd be plum embarrassin' for a man to have him a heart attack and have to lay there until the paramedics came, knowing what they'd see when they got there," he teased as he reached down with one hand to jerk back the embroidered coverlet.
He kissed her again, slowly this time before lowering her to the soft feather tick. The bed dipped as he joined her. And then he was kissing her some more. Her lips, her eyelids, her earlobes. His hands smoothed over her, finding every curve, every pulse point, every singing nerve ending until she was nearly crazy with wanting him. She moved restlessly, her hands reaching for him, urging him to fill her.
"Easy, honey," Luke whispered, his own needs tearing at him like a wild thing. Gently, tenderly, he cupped his hand over the mound between her legs, kneading and stroking until she arched upward, crying out, her eyes flying open, then glazing over with a stunned pleasure.
Even as she shuddered, he braced his weight on his hands and eased the tip of his shaft into her slowly, allowing himself only a few inches of pleasure, watching her face, her eyes, the trembling of her soft lips as she murmured his name.
"Is it good?" he asked, desperate to please her.
"Yes," she whispered, her voice thick.
Slowly he began to move, fight
ing a clawing need to take his own pleasure in one hard pounding thrust. Instead, teeth gritted, he rocked back and forth against the velvet walls sheathing him. She writhed, then sobbed, her hands clutching at his straining arms.
He felt the little tremor start deep inside her. Her eyes flew open, shining and stunned. "Come inside me. I want to feel you inside me."
Carefully he pushed deeper, watching her face for signs of pain. But it was only pleasure he saw as her head arched back. His desire rose in a hot punishing wave, but still he held back, his harsh breaths rasping through the quiet room. She was moaning and tossing her head from side to side. She was slicker now, and he risked another slow thrust.
She arched against him, her belly gloriously exposed. He moved his hand to the place where her body and his joined, rubbing rhythmically while his own need clawed deep. With one final controlled movement, he tipped her over and then, while her body still pulsed against his, gave himself to her.
* * *
Chapter 15
« ^ »
The rodeo was noisy and dusty and hot. Flags flew from the top of the grandstand and at intervals around the dirt ring. The air smelled of horses and humanity and, now and then, when the wind gusted, well-oiled leather.
Luke had been tied up at the hospital until noon, so they arrived after the events had started. Their seats were dead center in the covered section of the grandstand and close enough to the action to see the contestants grimace when something went wrong or grin when it went right.
After explaining that he'd missed breakfast, he'd eaten his way through three hot dogs to her one. Between bites, he'd kept up a running commentary on the calf roping and barrel racing, even predicting the scores within a point or two.
The stands were packed with moms and dads and kids enjoying the fresh air and sunshine—and each other. Almost everyone wore a cowboy hat, many purchased from one of the stands set up outside the grandstand.
Luke's, too, was regulation rodeo, a white straw Stetson with a narrow black ribbon band, well seasoned and shaped perfectly. She thought it was just about the sexiest hat she'd ever seen.
Pretty much like always, he was dressed in a plaid shirt with the sleeves rolled tight against his biceps and his usual Wrangler that hugged his butt and tested the heavy zipper. Instead of a number pined to the shirt, however, he wore a butter-soft buckskin vest. Her heart had tumbled when she'd seen him, then tumbled harder when he'd lifted her off her feet for a long slow sensual kiss.
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