Working on a Full House

by Alyssa Kress

  "Hello there," Roy told the gangly young man. "I'm here to see Valerie — that is, Dr. Kendrick."

  The young man blinked. The African-American woman stood very still. "Oh. Well, write your name on this list and we'll call you when we're ready," said the young man.

  "What? Oh. No, I'm not here for an appointment. I'm, uh...a personal friend of Dr. Kendrick's." 'Personal friend.' Right, no point pissing Valerie off by making too much of their relationship — yet.

  "A personal friend," repeated the gangly young man. He gave Roy a frowning look and picked up a telephone. Meanwhile, the probable Cherise turned to give Roy a penetrating stare. She seemed deeply suspicious. The gangly man told Roy, "I'll tell her you're here, Mr...?"

  "Roy." Roy grinned. "She'll know who that is." No sense making too little of their relationship, either, he thought. He shifted to meet Cherise's gaze head-on, smiling pleasantly. She raised her eyebrows, cool as ice, and turned back to the charts. Somehow Roy doubted Kenny had made any time with her.

  Meanwhile, the gangly young man spoke into the phone. "What? Dr. Kendrick, are you there? Oh. Yeah. There's a Roy to see you. Do you want me to send him in?"

  As the receptionist listened on the telephone, his regard of Roy turned grudgingly accepting. "She says you can go on back." He pointed. "She's in the third office on the right."

  "Thanks."

  Under the scrutiny of the young man and Cherise, Roy went through the door and into a busy hallway. A child was stepping on a scale at one end, a toddler was walking with her hands clutching her mother's at the other end, and a tall blond guy in a doctor's white jacket was talking stridently to a woman in blue scrubs. The sound of intense, high-pitched wailing rose above the tableau.

  Nerves of steel, Roy thought, as another child began to scream from vistas unknown. Working in a place like this day in and day out had to take nerves of solid, stainless steel. He knocked on the closed door of the third office down.

  Thankfully, Valerie didn't take long to answer. The door opened and she stood there, looking frazzled. Roy didn't blame her.

  "Come in," she said, and turned on her heel.

  Roy didn't take umbrage at the curtness of this greeting. Considering the noise and chaos in the hall, he'd want to scurry back into his office, too. He made sure to close the door solidly behind himself. The wails were still audible, but not at head-splitting levels any more. He could almost tune them out enough to enjoy the sight of Valerie in a white lab coat, looking delightfully scientific.

  "So, you found the place all right." At a large desk on the other side of the room, Valerie turned and gave Roy an approximation of a smile.

  "It was no problem." It occurred to Roy, watching even the approximation of a smile fade, that what was bothering her might not be the kids wailing out in the hall.

  Was it him?

  Yeah, he wanted to make her nervous, he wanted her to be aware of him, sexually, but he didn't want to inspire dread.

  Valerie's gaze flicked down to a file folder lying open on her desk before she looked back up at Roy. "I'm sure you bought ten times more groceries than I need."

  "Oh, only about two or three times as much."

  Her smile came back, and it was a little more genuine this time. "And the bathroom sink?"

  "Fixed." Roy paused. "I think."

  She snorted and walked around her desk. Roy saw her gaze flit down again to the papers fastened into the chart. She tried to look away, but whatever was in there obviously called to her.

  "What is that?"

  She looked up sharply. "Excuse me?"

  He nodded toward the chart.

  "Oh." Valerie reached to flip the thing closed. "Nothing."

  "Nothing?" Roy laughed softly. "I play poker for a living, doll. Something about that chart has you upset. What's the problem?"

  She looked down at her hand on top of the closed file folder.

  Roy made a mental note never to let Valerie play poker. She had a face that told everything.

  "I — Well, it's this patient." Her brows drew down. "Six weeks ago he came in, complaining of fatigue. I took a blood test — twice. Everything looked all right, or at least not alarming. But he just came in again today and — oh, boy." Valerie puffed out her cheeks.

  "Not good."

  "Not good at all." Valerie shook her head. "He was pale as a sheet, had all kinds of bruises, and his heart was going much too fast."

  "Which means?"

  "There are a few unpleasant possibilities." Valerie sighed. "I took another blood test. We'll know more tomorrow."

  Roy tilted his head. "You like this kid."

  Nodding, Valerie straightened from his position leaning on the chart. "Nicky's great. He was the very first patient I ever saw as a full-fledged doctor. Told me I was a natural." Valerie's smile crooked. "Imagine this skinny ten-year-old trying to make me feel comfortable. And when his little sister had to come in for her annual, he held her hand. Can you imagine? He is an absolute sweetheart."

  So much for the famed physician objectivity, Roy thought, but with more tenderness than disapproval. In fact, he started to feel warm inside. "Oh, I'm sure you'll fix him up."

  Her smile faded. "I certainly hope so."

  "I'm sure of it. Hey." Physical affection did not come naturally to Roy, but it felt natural to walk up to Valerie and put a reassuring arm around her. She must have been even more upset than she looked, because she didn't pull away. If Roy wasn't mistaken, she even leaned into him.

  At least, she leaned until she realized where she was. Then she tensed.

  Roy lifted his arm, though he felt let down. She was attracted. Why was she fighting it?

  "I better get back to work." She laughed a little. "I have a million more patients to see today."

  "Sure, Val. I'll walk you out to the hall." Far be it from Roy to remind her he'd come to return her key.

  When Valerie opened her office door, the sound of wails instantly swept back into the room. She would have walked nonchalantly back into that battle zone if a tall, blond fellow, the one Roy had seen earlier, hadn't suddenly appeared in the doorway. "Val?" he said.

  Valerie skidded to a halt. "Peter."

  Every male instinct Roy owned went into abrupt overdrive. The way the blond guy positioned himself, the way Valerie responded — Roy's competitive instincts screamed. He didn't know the guy's name, but he knew exactly who he was.

  Valerie's ex-boyfriend.

  "Val," the blond guy said. "Could you take a look at that — ? Oh." The blond man stopped when he caught sight of Roy, who'd begun moving toward them via some force larger than his self-control. No wonder Valerie hadn't wanted Roy to come by her office.

  "Valerie?" Roy asked, in a tone he thought was heroically restrained.

  The blond guy looked down at her, too.

  She was going to have to introduce them. Roy saw the realization dawn unhappily across her face. "Uh, Peter, this is my...friend, Roy — "

  "How do you do?" Roy interrupted, before she might spill his full name. For all he knew, Peter was a poker aficionado. Roy put a territory-claiming hand on Valerie's shoulder as he reached across to shake the ex-boyfriend's hand.

  "How do you do?" Peter replied. His handshake was very firm. Warningly so.

  In response, Roy moved his arm from Valerie's shoulder to her waist. He pulled her so she was hip to hip with him. Then he smiled at Peter.

  Valerie was his now.

  Roy was going to make sure Peter knew it. "Say," he said, and made a face of I-just-remembered. "I hear congratulations are in order."

  "Oh." Peter looked gratifyingly off-balance, "Uh, that's right. Thanks."

  So, he definitely was the ex-boyfriend, recently engaged. Meanwhile Roy could feel Valerie gently trying to pull away from him. His response was to tighten his hold, his fingers sinking pleasantly into the flesh at her waist.

  "You set a date yet?" Roy asked.

  "Not yet." Peter's gaze flicked toward Roy's hand on Valerie's
waist. "You know how it is. Trying to work out schedules and all. We'd like to have time to go somewhere nice for our honeymoon."

  "Honeymoon," Roy repeated. He turned to Valerie. "We haven't thought of that yet, have we, hon?"

  Valerie shot him a look that could have fried a hot dog. Not a good actress, Roy reminded himself. So he laughed and pressed a kiss to her forehead, joking like, but sending the message. They were so together.

  When he turned back to face Peter, he found the other man eyeing him speculatively.

  Forget it, bum. You had your chance and you blew it. She's mine now. All mine. Indeed, Roy could feel Valerie, soft and delicate, pressed close against his side. His fingers itched to play where he clutched her.

  Soon, Roy promised himself. Very soon.

  "I, uh — Roy, you were just on your way out, weren't you?" Valerie's voice was bright, but her smile brittle as she turned to gaze at Roy. "Let me walk you to your car."

  She wanted to get rid of him. Roy registered that, but it didn't bother him. He'd already accomplished far more than he'd dreamed. The ex-boyfriend was on his way to becoming true old history.

  "Sure, hon." Roy slid his hand a few inches up from her waist, toward more interesting territory. "Why don't you walk me to my car?" The smile he then sent Peter let the guy know it was going to be an awfully nice walk to the car.

  Valerie hissed something under her breath and managed to slip out from Roy's waist-hold. He caught her hand, though, so that they walked that way, like a real couple, all the way down the hall.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  "No, no, I didn't want Jackson, I wanted the Carruthers chart." Peter was using his shit-kicking voice, Cherise decided as they stood facing each other in the hall.

  "I gave you the Carruthers chart," she explained, careful to appear calm. "Look at what you're holding."

  Scowling, Peter looked down. She saw the information register on his face — he was holding Carruthers — but she didn't get the apology that ought to have followed. "Good," he barked. "Fine."

  Cherise only barely stopped herself from snapping back. She wasn't in a much better mood than Peter. The world had just turned on its axis. The man she'd been cordially despising for the past twenty hours was not, after all, Mr. Yummy.

  Fifteen minutes ago, Cherise had met the actual Mr. Yummy. From her position in the file library where she'd been able to gaze across the reception counter, Cherise wondered how she could have forgotten Valerie's description of her paramour as dark and tough, rather than fair and happy-go-lucky. Beyond that, the man who'd stood across the counter had been decidedly possessive. He'd asked for Dr. Valerie Kendrick as if set and determined to get her.

  In the hall now, Cherise restrained a worried sigh. "Would you like the Jackson chart, too?" she asked Peter.

  "No, no." Peter struggled to regain his composure. He even managed a smile. "Carruthers was what I needed. Thank you."

  Cherise watched him turn away. For many reasons, she wished she hadn't been wrong about Mr. Yummy's true identity. For one thing, Valerie's Mr. Yummy was even more impossible for her than Cherise had originally thought. What was Valerie thinking? For another, she now had to see the blond fellow from Norman's Art Supply in a whole, new light.

  Kenny Doubletree may have been obnoxious and impudent, but he was not, as far as Cherise knew, a two-timing scumbag. There was no good reason to despise him. The brakes Cherise had been counting on had suddenly gone out on her.

  Not that she suddenly liked the fellow, Cherise assured herself, as she went back to the file library. Kenny was obnoxious, way too charming, and an obvious pick-up artist.

  Yes, he was all of that, Cherise decided as she looked for the next patient's chart. He'd also been dynamic, full of brilliant energy, and undeniably attractive. Even when she'd thought there was a reason to despise him, Cherise had been attracted. And that kiss...

  Staring blindly at the files, Cherise couldn't stop the flutters in her stomach as she remembered that tiny little kiss. Without any brakes, the full, sparkling force of the thing overtook her. To prevent a self-deprecating moan, she sucked in her lips.

  What was happening to her? The man evoked all kinds of...emotions. Too much emotion. And so unjustified. Frowning, Cherise drew in a deep breath and put one hand over the flutters in her stomach.

  This had to stop. No doubt about it. Whatever it took, she had to find a way...not to be stupid over Kenny Doubletree.

  Cherise narrowed her eyes at the wall of patient charts and wondered how to go about doing that.

  ~~~

  Of all the arrogant, high-handed, mm — ! Mm — ! Valerie was too angry to think of the next epithet as she stalked through the parking lot, Roy hopefully stumbling far behind her. Putting his arm around her, kissing her, saying honeymoon. He'd been branding her, that's what he'd been doing, like she was — his heifer!

  The sun had come out from the haze, making Valerie squint as she wove between parked cars. Meanwhile her ire rose.

  "Uh, I hate to slow you down..." Roy's voice was not as far behind Valerie as she'd hoped, and sounded disgustingly amused. "...but if we're trying to get to my car, we're going in the wrong direction."

  It took a second for his words to sink in. Valerie took three more strides, then abruptly stopped. His car. That's right. She was trying to get him to his car so he could get the hell out of town. She spun around.

  And nearly crashed into Roy. He'd definitely not been as far behind her as she'd hoped. Indeed, he was able to reach out and grasp her shoulders to steady her.

  Ignoring the little spark from his touch, Valerie glared. "You," she pronounced, with venom.

  He raised his eyebrows, looking oh, so innocent — except for a gleam deep down. He was amused. That roused Valerie's ire higher. High enough for her to grab for some self-control. This round was going to be hers.

  She took a steadying breath. "What did you think you were doing?"

  Roy's gaze flicked to one of the hands he had on her shoulders. "Keeping you from falling down?"

  Valerie closed her eyes. "Not now." Which you bloody well know. "Back there, with Peter. What was that about?"

  He kept the innocent look, though the gleam in his eyes turned more dangerous. "Oh, you mean our little conversation with your ex-boyfriend?"

  Valerie stopped. Roy had figured out Peter was her ex-boyfriend? Oh, that's right, Roy had congratulated Peter — But Holy Cow, how had he figured it out? The question nearly threw her off track. Nearly. She hastily grabbed back her righteous anger. "You treated me like your property," she snapped.

  "You are."

  Valerie's jaw dropped.

  Meanwhile, Roy's expression lost its edge of amusement, as did his voice. "He had to be told. The guy still thinks you belong to him."

  Valerie snapped her mouth closed. "Peter thinks I belong to him? He rejected me. He never loved me. And he's getting married."

  Roy looked completely unconvinced by this argument. "For a woman, that might mean you give up your claim. It doesn't work like that for a man. You were his once. Until he sees clear evidence otherwise, he still considers you his."

  It was hard to believe the utterly antediluvian garbage coming out of Roy's mouth. "His? Yours? I don't belong to anyone! I swear, of all the idiotic, macho — "

  "You belong to me," Roy stated, cutting her off.

  Valerie's eyes widened. A rush of something powerful went through her. Anger, right? That rush had to be anger. She gasped. "Now if that doesn't take the unmitigated cake — "

  Valerie could have gone on. She would have gone on — had Roy not bent down and kissed her.

  Valerie's words fizzled into thin air.

  It was so unexpected...and so — astonishingly sexual. He pulled her close enough to feel every muscle-toughened inch while his mouth took possession of hers.

  Valerie had no idea how long the kiss lasted, only that when Roy pulled away, she ended up standing in a daze. Oh, my God. He kissed me. He kissed me.
r />   "What — ?" She cleared her throat. "What was that?"

  His gaze back at her was steady. "I think you know exactly what that was."

  Valerie resisted the urge to clear her throat again. "You don't need to put your brand on me here. There's no one to see us."

  His eyes were steel gray. "There's you."

  Valerie's stomach zoomed down a roller coaster. There was her? He wanted her to feel branded? The suspicion that had been bubbling dangerously since the night before splashed upward. Did he — want her?

  Valerie tried to swallow as inconspicuously as possible. "You're saying you want to — ?"

  Roy was starting to look amused again. "Go to bed with you? Yeah."

  He'd said it, right out. Exhilaration shot through her, laced with dread. "But that doesn't make sense."

  The amusement in his face expanded. "You don't think?" He laughed. "Then maybe I'd better try again."

  Very confused, Valerie took a step back. Roy followed. His smile tightened, his eyes narrowed. He was a picture of lustful determination. Toward her.

  Valerie's back hit an SUV, something too tall to allow retreat as Roy planted his forearms on either side of her face.

  "This is not a good idea," she whispered. She hadn't expected this. She had no idea how to react to it. Refusal seemed the safest course of action.

  Roy's face was two inches from hers, his body pressed against her front, warm and strong and potent. "Tell me why not."

  "I — We agreed. This was going to be a marriage on paper, a formality." Right. That's what they'd agreed, because for one thing Valerie had never dreamed Roy would ever look at her the way he was looking at her now, with pure want.

  His nose brushed her forehead. Amidst all the testosterone zipping through the air, it was a shockingly tender gesture. "Agreements," he said in a rough voice, "can change."

  Their eyes met and Valerie felt desire shudder through her, so pure it was impossible to deny — or exterminate. Then his lashes lowered and his mouth, once again, touched hers.