by Tina Beckett
And so he did. He touched his mouth to hers, glorying in the chill that clung to her lips, the scent and taste of the hot cocoa she’d drunk before coming out on the ice. The combination surrounded his senses.
He gripped the edges of her parka and drew her closer. Using her skill on the ice to hold himself up. At least that was what he told himself. In reality, he just wanted her against him. Wanted to slide his hands beneath all of those clothes and feel the warm skin of her stomach...her breasts.
That was what finally pulled him from his trance. He’d done this to prove she wasn’t entirely immune. Well, hell, it seemed he was the one who’d caught something. And he’d better figure out a cure and quick.
He drew back. “I think he’s probably gotten enough.”
Jess gasped, looking as if he’d just slapped her. And rightly so. It was the second time he’d pretended a kiss was all about the pictures, when in reality it was all about her. About the way she made him feel. But if she thought he was the king of casual sex, now was the time to play the part.
“I’m sure he has.” Her eyes turned frosty. “Time to go see, isn’t it? Actually it’s past time. And I think I’m ready to call it a day, if you don’t mind. If you’ll send me copies of the pictures, I’ll forward them to my parents. And that’ll be that. Thank you for bailing me out, but you’re now off the hook.”
He didn’t want her to just run back to her rabbit hole and disappear, as much as he knew that was exactly what should happen. For his own peace of mind.
“If I remember right, I put myself on that hook, not you.” Well, that made no sense at all, but it was the only thing he could think of.
Dean let go of her jacket and took what he hoped was a casual step back, only to have his skates suddenly shoot out from under him, landing him straight on his ass.
CHAPTER NINE
“I HAVE TO go home.”
Abbie stood over her baby’s cot, gripping some kind of small bottle.
“What do you mean you have to go home? What about Marissa?”
“Mum rang me this morning. Jerry is in hospital. He has pneumonia.”
Jess’s heart dropped. Her four-year-old nephew. “Oh, God, I’m sorry. What about Martin?”
Her twin’s head turned in her direction for a second, but there was no accusation in her eyes for once. “He’ll come with me, of course, and then it’s back to work for him tomorrow.”
“Already?”
Abbie nodded. “He cut short a business trip to come to Cambridge. There are some things he needs to tie up before he can officially go on paternity leave. He didn’t expect the baby to...arrive when she did.”
Guilt surrounded Jess once again. “I’m so sorry for what happened.”
“I think I’m being punished.” The words were spoken with a quiet resignation that gave Jess pause.
Her sister had been quick enough to blame her for this last week. What had changed?
“Why would you say something like that?”
“Two of my children are now sick.” She shifted the bottle from one hand to the other. Jess tilted her head and peered at it a bit closer.
Concealer.
Was she putting on makeup here in the SCBU? When she moved her glance back to her sister’s face, all that met her were dark circles and mussed hair. Her sister was always so sure of herself. So careful about her appearance.
Something seemed off.
Well, she had two children in hospital. Any mother would be frantic—feeling torn between the two of them, whether to stay or whether to go.
Jess laid her hand on the top of the special-care cot. “You’re not being punished. And I’ll keep an eye on her, Abbie. If anything at all comes up, I’ll ring you immediately.”
“Every day. Please ring me every day.”
One of the other babies cried and a nurse came in to check on him before Jess could move. “I will. She’s so very precious, isn’t she?”
She looked down at the tiny human, eyes tracing over the rise and fall of her chest. The kick of a little leg. The one that had...
The birthmark. It was gone. Jess leaned a little closer.
No. It wasn’t gone. That was what the concealer was for. All traces of compassion rushed away like a torrent. “You put makeup on her leg? What is wrong with you, Abbie?”
Abbie dropped into the chair and covered her face with her hands. The other nurse finished what she was doing and then retreated to the far corner, probably wanting no part of what was likely to be a drama of the first order. It always seemed to be, where her sister was concerned.
“I...” Abbie tilted her head back to look at her, and Jess was shocked to see tears. “You have no idea what I’ve done.”
Were they still talking about the concealer? Her sister had mentioned being punished. Did she think the birthmark was part of that?
“What is it, then?” And where in the world was Martin? Shouldn’t he be here with his wife, if they were leaving?
She handed the bottle to Jess. “It’s not what you think. I don’t want the baby to pay for what I did.”
“You didn’t do anything. And you can’t cover up her birthmark. It’s just a tiny spot. I don’t understand why it’s such a big deal.”
Her sister sighed. “Martin works so much. It seems like he’s always off on some business trip. I used to wonder if he was coming to see you.”
“Of course he wasn’t. I would never do that to you. Or to anyone.” Something churned in her stomach, and she wasn’t sure she really wanted to hear any more.
Abbie’s mouth tightened. “You always were the perfect one.”
“Please don’t.”
“I’m sorry.” She stood up and seemed to pull herself back together. “Martin is packing my things now, and we leave in two hours. You’ll ring me?”
“Of course.” She handed the bottle back to Abbie. “I know you’re not asking me to put this on her.”
“No. It was just stupidity on my part.” She curled her fingers around the concealer, knuckles showing white. “I’ll let you know when we arrive in London.”
“And please let me know how Jerry is. Give him a gentle hug from his Aunt Jess.”
She needed to make more of an effort to visit her nephews. Even if she and Abbie didn’t always get along, the boys shouldn’t have to pay the price.
“I will.” Abbie unexpectedly wrapped her in a tight hug. “I’m sorry. For everything. I hope someday you’ll understand.”
At the moment, Jess didn’t understand anything, except that her sister was hurting and for the first time was letting her share that burden just a little. Feeling a little weepy and out of sorts herself after what had happened with Dean on the ice two days ago, she put her arms around her sister and squeezed her right back.
There was hope. There had to be. For Abbie. And for her.
* * *
Isabel Delamere was posting a flier of some type on the staff board. An Australian obstetrician who’d been seconded to Cambridge Royal Hospital, Isabel had quickly become a part of daily life in the maternity unit.
Dean moved in to take a closer look at the paper. Something about a staff Christmas party. His brows went up. “Haven’t we had a couple of those already?”
She smiled at him. “A couple. But one was for prospective adoptive parents in Aaron Cartwright’s program. Hope Sanders and Bonnie Reid helped organise it. But we haven’t had anything for just the staff yet. A few people felt we needed a more adult type of party.”
When Dean’s brows crept even higher, she laughed. “Not that kind of party. Just a fancy venue with pretty frocks, flashy tuxes and lots of festivity.” A shadow passed across her face. “Some of us could really use that right about now.”
She was right. He’d been tense for the last
couple of days, ever since that kiss with Jess at the ice-skating arena. He’d spent that night in bed, his imagination exploding at what might have happened had he just kept his mouth shut.
As a result he’d become more and more irritable. And frustrated. He’d found himself in the strange position of lusting after someone he shouldn’t have.
He knew it would be the worst kind of mistake. But that didn’t stop his head from picturing it, in explicit detail.
Speak of the devil. Here she came. Head down as if she were going to power past him without a glance. Except that Isabel called out to her, waving her over.
And over she came. Shoulders hunched. Arms stiff at her sides. As if heading to an execution.
Isabel nodded at the poster. “We’re quite late getting this under way, but were hoping you could help spread the word.” The other woman touched her arm. “And maybe even get us a head count? You’ll be there, right?”
Looking at the writing and the bright image of a huge fancy Christmas tree, Jess drew in a quick breath. “It’s at the Sarasota?”
“Yes, super posh, so wear something fancy.” Isabel waved a sheaf of papers. “Well, I have more of these to get up. If you could let me know how many you think can make it, that would be fab. I expect to see you there.” With that, she was off on her next mission.
Dean studied Jess’s face. It was as if she couldn’t stop staring at the poster. “What is it?”
“That’s where my parents had their anniversary party.” Light brown eyes closed, and she swallowed. “I’ll never be able to forget that night. Or what happened.”
Moving closer, he looped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry.”
“I can’t go. I know it’ll disappoint Isabel, but—”
“I think you should go.”
“What?”
“Face it head-on. Replace bad memories with something more pleasant. Otherwise, every time you hear the hotel’s name, you’ll associate it with what happened.”
If anyone knew that, it was him. Just like the tonic water he’d forced himself to down at Jess’s place. It had ended up being a good thing, the newer memory supplanting some of the ones from his past. Maybe Jess could do the same thing. Replace a bad memory with a not so bad memory. “I’ll go with you, if it’ll help.”
When storm clouds formed in her eyes, he shook his head. “Not for a photo op, but as a friend. If you get there and realize you can’t handle being there, we’ll leave.” He stepped in front of her and tilted her chin. “No one should have to face something like this alone. Not if you don’t have to.”
The air seemed to crackle between them for several seconds, and then she drew a big breath. Nodded. “Thank you. I think I’ll take you up on it.” She paused. “If you’re sure?”
Letting go of her, he took a step back, afraid he might be tempted to lean closer and capture that satiny mouth with his.
“Very sure.” Maybe this would help ease the tension between them and drop them back on safer ground. He grinned, a sense of relief flowing through him. “I haven’t worn a tuxedo in ages. This gives me a good excuse to put on something besides a lab coat or scrubs.”
Jess glanced down at her own blue medical garb and smiled up at him. “It will be fun to let my hair down for a while.”
Her blonde hair was pulled back in its customary ponytail, that gray streak looking like an exclamation point that had been tipped on its side. Bold. Unapologetic. She could have dyed it to go with the rest of her hair, and yet she let it run free—like an inner wild child who refused to be tamed or subdued.
He liked it. Glad that she’d left it natural. He took his thumb and ran it over the narrow strip of hair until he got to the elastic in back. “Isabel said the party would do everyone some good. She might be right.”
Before he could even think about what he was doing, he touched her cheek and continued, “Don’t worry, we’ll make sure Marissa is well cared for while we’re there.”
She bit her lip. “That reminds me. Abbie is going home. One of her other children is ill.” He listened without speaking as Jess filled him in on what was happening in short choppy phrases.
“She did what?” He couldn’t help but interrupt when she mentioned her sister had put makeup on the baby. “Why would she? There’s always a danger of contamination.”
“I know. And she acted oddly once I’d realized what she’d done. Like she wanted to tell me something, but changed her mind.”
“What do you think it was?”
“I have no idea. But I have a feeling it has to do with Martin.”
At that, Dean frowned. Surely Abbie wasn’t accusing her sister of going after him again. “How so?”
Reaching back, she tightened her ponytail. “She talked about him working so much. I think she suspects he’s having an affair. But then she talked about the problems with Marissa being a punishment for something. Something she’d done.”
“If she thinks Martin is the one having the affair...” Another staff member murmured an apology as they went to move past them to look at the flier. Dean eased Jess over to the side.
“Maybe she feels like she drove him away somehow.” Jess glanced toward the ceiling. “I have no idea. I told her I’d look after Marissa until she gets back. She’s written up a power of attorney so that I can make medical decisions for the baby, if something terrible happens. I just hope I don’t have to. I want her to grow and thrive.”
“It’s what we all want. For each and every one of those babies.”
Including the preemie from the eclampsia case. So far the baby was hanging in there, despite the odds.
“You’re incredibly good at what you do.” Jess’s soft voice held a sincerity that made him swallow.
“Thank you. We all do our best.”
“No. I think it’s more than that. You have a drive that I don’t see in every doctor. Yes, they care about their patients, but there’s something different about the way you go about it.”
Too close. He didn’t want her looking inside and seeing his own shattered childhood. Or realizing how scared and alone he’d felt during his years at home. As devastated as he’d been by his mother’s abandonment, in a way it had come as a relief. He’d become self-reliant. No longer depending on anyone other than himself.
Staring at the one woman who might be able to see beneath his flirty, carefree mask, he forced himself to push it on a little tighter. “I’m just doing what I was trained to do. Helping my patients get the very best medical care available. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
Less. Now there was a good word. One that was beginning to sound better and better.
As in seeing less of Jess.
And as soon as that Christmas party was over, he was going to retreat to his own little self-reliant corner, and this time he would make sure he stayed there.
CHAPTER TEN
“YOU TWO LOOK adorable together. You have no idea how long your father and I have waited for this.”
Her mum’s voice made tears spring to her eyes. Staring at the upper right-hand corner of her computer where a slideshow of the shots she’d sent were blinking past one after the other, she had to admit, it all looked far too real.
The pictures of them beside Thor had a spontaneity that she certainly hadn’t felt when she’d been standing there. But her face was pink, her teeth digging into her lower lip, while Dean’s eyes held a mischievous glow that transported her back to that day. He’d just finished telling her where the horse’s name had come from. And Cliff had caught the moment perfectly.
And the ice skating. Dean had handed his phone over to that stranger and they’d staged another scene. This one had him standing behind her, arms wrapped around her waist. Jess’s head was tilted back so that she leaned against his shoulder. If she closed her eyes, she could almos
t smell that earthy, manly scent that had drifted past her nose as she’d stood within the circle of his arms.
She’d wanted him in that moment. Desperately. The fact that she would just be one more woman on an ever-growing list hadn’t seemed to matter. It was getting harder and harder to convince her body that sleeping with him would be a big mistake. Especially now, when she couldn’t quite remember why that was.
“Well, don’t marry us off just yet.” What else could she say? They weren’t getting married. Ever. And there really wasn’t a need to keep pretending. Abbie had already left and so had Martin.
But they had to come back to get the baby, didn’t they?
“Even I can read the writing on the wall.” Her father’s smile came through the video chat. They’d convinced him, evidently.
Unfortunately, she’d almost convinced herself as well, which would be a royal disaster. She did not need to get caught up in the fairy tale Dean had spun for her family. If she did, she might never be able to free herself again.
An image of Dean crouched in the corner of an enormous web, waiting to devour her, came to mind.
Only when he climbed toward her—making his way along the sticky fibers of the trap he’d spun—he didn’t have the menace of a spider...but that of a lover. The same man who’d held her on that ice, his strong arms binding her to him. What if sleeping with him set her free from that web? Because what was really holding her there were all of those what-would-it-be-like? thoughts that kept going through her mind.
Like the ones filling her mind right now.
No. Can’t happen.
He only wanted to satisfy his physical needs.
And she didn’t?
Hmm...maybe putting a stop to his advances at the pub hadn’t been such a smart idea, after all. What better person to teach her about casual sex than the king of casual sex: Dean Edwards?
What would be so terrible about that, really, if they both knew where things stood?
