Dr. Dad

“I don’t understand,” Noah said, attempting to sound reasonable. It was quite a struggle, because he felt anything but reasonable. “Think of me as a physician, not a man.”

Her enigmatic smile returned. “Let’s get one thing perfectly clear between us—I’m not your patient, and you’re not my doctor.”

“Do you have something against doctors?”

“Not particularly.”

Noah rubbed his forehead. Starr Granger was having an unfortunate effect on him—she made him insane. “Then what’s wrong, Miss...er...Ms. Granger?” he asked carefully.

She leaned toward him. “Make it easy. Call me Starr.” A complex mixture of emotion glimmered in her blue.-green eyes. “There’s a perfectly good reason I don’t want you to be my doctor.”

“Oh? What is it?”

The cool, unbandaged tips of her fingers stroked his jaw. “They say actions speak louder than words, so I’ll just have to show you.” Her lips brushed his mouth and the heat went clear to his toes.

“What was that supposed to prove?” he asked, his voice gritty with restraint. The last thing he’d expected from the rebellious Starr was a kiss.

“I thought it was obvious. I guess I’ll have to try one more time.” An instant later she flowed against him, filling his senses with warmth and the scent of honeysuckle.

Unable to resist, Noah slid his fingers into the soft silk of her hair and pulled her closer. She tasted like an exotic fruit, provocative and mysterious, with infinite layers of texture and passion.

He knew exactly what she was telling him. The American Medical Association disapproved of kisses between doctors and patients, but Starr hadn’t let him become her doctor. They were just a man and woman, kissing in front of half the Astoria fire department. Somehow that didn’t seem to matter.

After an endless moment she pulled away.

“See you later, Dr. Bradley,” she said, spinning on her heel and walking away.

Noah’s mouth dropped open as she disappeared. “I’ll be damned,” he muttered.

He shook his head, trying to clear her tantalizing fragrance from his senses. Starr Granger had all the physical equipment to make a man feel...restless. But he didn’t want to get involved with anyone, much less a globe-trotting journalist who took incredible chances to get her photographs.

Not that it mattered. Starr had probably just kissed him because of excess adrenaline. He didn’t consider himself boring, but he was hardly the type of man to attract a woman with her explosive life-style.

A reluctant smile curved Noah’s mouth when he realized he was just making excuses. His common sense told him to forget the sensual fire in Starr’s restless eyes and supple body—he just didn’t want to.

Chapter Two

Noah groaned as he stared at the newspaper from the previous day. Thoroughly annoyed, he slapped his cup down on the breakfast table.

On the front page was a picture of Mrs. Dinsdale’s old house, surrounded by firefighters. That wasn’t the bad news. The bad news was the back page, where the story continued. A second article augmented the sketchy information—all about one of Astoria’s more famous citizens, Starr Granger.

“Damned reporters,” he muttered, the paper crumpling between his fingers.

Next to a smiling publicity shot of Starr, was a picture of both Starr and Noah in front of the ambulance...kissing. The caption beneath read “Local doctor lures prize winning photographer back home.” He had his arm around Starr’s waist and she was arched against him.

Great, just great. That’s all he needed.

He didn’t remember putting his arms around Starr. But he remembered the softness of feminine curves pressed against him, the scent of honeysuckle...the provocative flavor of her mouth. He remembered the shifting shades of blue and green in her eyes, and the affectionate way she’d looked at Becky. Those memories had kept him awake the night before, aching with hunger.

Starr had a terrible effect on a man. No matter how many times he resolved to stop thinking about her, she crept into his mind anyway. It wasn’t so much that she was attractive; he’d known a lot of women more beautiful than Starr. But none of them had shimmered with such energy.

Leaning back in his chair, Noah rubbed his throbbing forehead, grateful it was Saturday so he didn’t have to go into the office.

A year ago it wouldn’t have bothered him to be caught kissing an attractive woman, but a year ago he hadn’t been worried about keeping custody of his niece. Now, the last thing he needed was even the appearance of impropriety—Becky’s maternal grandparents were the most uptight, conservative people he’d ever met. Fortunately Sam and Amelia’s will had been very specific—they’d wanted Noah to raise their daughter if anything happened to them.

“You need a better security system,” a voice said from behind him. “Almost anyone could break in.”

“Damnation!” Noah leapt to his feet and spun around. He glared at his intruder. It was Rafe McKittrick, Becky’s uncle on her mother’s side of the family. “You installed the lousy system. It figures you could break in. Why the hell are you here?”

“I’ m not staying. I have business down the coast.”

“That’s a relief.”

The corner of Rafe’s mouth lifted slightly under his mustache, which was the closest Noah had ever come to seeing him smile. “Is Becky awake?”

“No.” Noah felt a faint niggle of guilt about being so curt, but he didn’t like any of the McKittricks, including Rafe.

The other man just nodded and tossed him the newspaper he was carrying, folded around the infamous picture. “My parents are a little upset about this, I thought you should know.”

Noah made an impatient gesture. “It’s not like we were sneaking out of some seedy motel. Besides, Starr is a Pulitzer Prize winner. They should love her for that, if nothing else.”

Rafe shrugged noncommittally. “About Becky... Have you considered getting married so she’d have a mother?”

“What?”

“You know, married. The ‘I do’ routine with gold rings. I don’t hold by it personally, but it would go a long way toward smoothing things with the folks. One of their biggest gripes is because you’re a bachelor.”

“Wrong,” Noah retorted. “One of their biggest gripes is that Sam and I were raised by a single father who drank himself into an early grave. We never had the right highbrow background to suit them. As for me being a bachelor... I’ll get married to please myself, and no one else.”

“Suit yourself.”

For a long while after Rafe left, Noah stared into space, his coffee growing cold. He didn’t think the McKittricks could take Becky away from him—they’d have to prove he was unfit. Yet he couldn’t help worrying. They were powerful people, with powerful friends. And they used the newspapers they owned to pillory anyone they didn’t like.

That isn’t fair.

Noah shifted, almost believing he could hear Starr Granger’s voice echoing in his mind. Intellectually, he knew she was different than the nosy, truth-twisting reporters he’d dealt with since Sam’s death—the reporters who had suggested Sam was responsible for the fatal crash of the twin engine Cessna, either by pilot incompetence or impaired judgment. Yet it was hard to separate her from the McKittricks.

With bleak eyes, Noah gazed out at the view. The back of the house overlooked the turbulent beauty of the Pacific Ocean, and visible to the far right was the broad opening of the Columbia River. A nice view for a nice house; a fine, healthy home for a child. Except “nice” and “healthy” weren’t enough to satisfy the McKittricks. They didn’t like anyone who didn’t fit their mold of acceptance.

A small weight, imbued with warmth, leaned against his leg. Becky—tousle-haired and yawning—in her sleepers. Without a word she crawled into his lap and settled against his chest.

Noah’s heart flip-flopped.

He smoothed damp tendrils of hair away from her face. Playing the indulgent uncle had been easy—learning to be a father was far more difficult. Truthfully, sometimes it was easier when Becky was asleep. Wide-awake, she was a complete mystery to him. She smeared bananas on his suits and fed oatmeal to the compact disc player. She didn’t talk very much so he couldn’t tell what she was thinking. She said “no” with alarming regularity.

But it would kill him to lose her.

The thought stayed with Noah as he dressed Becky for the day. He was still awkward with the morning routine of caring for a child, and her bedroom usually resembled a disaster area by the time they were finished. He hadn’t expected a daily fashion dilemma with a two-year-old, but Becky was fussier than any New York model.

Today was no exception.

She didn’t want to wear the Cinderella outfit; she wanted the one with kitty cats. Only, when he found the kitty-cat sweater, she’d changed her mind and wanted something else. Since she didn’t communicate well, he ended up holding garments up one by one, trying to figure out which one she really wanted. Of course, she ended up deciding to wear the Cinderella dress after most of the closet and her dresser drawers were empty.

As they headed back to the kitchen—finally dressed—Noah sighed. When it came to Becky, his extensive medical education flew out the window. All the child-rearing theories in the world didn’t amount to a hill of beans when confronted by an obstinate two-year-old.

Patience. He just needed patience.

Becky’s tantrums were probably caused by the upheaval in her life. And no wonder. Losing Sam and Amelia had been hard for both of them.

Noah was contemplating the next battle, what to fix for breakfast, when the phone rang. “Hello?”

“You sound breathless.” Starr’s melodic voice sent an unusual reaction through Noah’s gut. “How is Becky doing? Any problems because of the excitement?”

“Er...Ms. Granger. No, she’s fine.”

“I thought you were going to call me Starr.”

“I wasn’t going to call you at all,” he said bluntly. No matter how attractive, he didn’t plan on spending time with Starr Granger. She was too...volatile. Too unpredictable. Too everything.

She laughed, seeming unperturbed by his rudeness. “I’d like to see Becky. We didn’t have much chance for a visit with everything that happened.”

“Uh-huh,” he murmured.

“How about this afternoon?”

Noah shifted uncomfortably. “I think next week would be better.”

There was a long pause. “I won’t be in town for very long. I’m on vacation, but I have to go back to work eventually.”

“I didn’t realize you took vacations.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Starr asked, a faintly indignant huff in her voice.

“Nothing. Except...well...why the sudden interest in Becky? Hell, you didn’t even show up at her baptism—they had to get someone to stand in for you.”

Starr sighed. “We discussed this when I called the first time. I was on assignment. I explained to Amelia and Sam—they understood.”

Noah gritted his teeth. Fine. Maybe Amelia and Sam had understood, but he didn’t. “This is just one of your impulsive whims,” he growled. “Like kissing me in front of everyone. Have you seen yesterday’s paper?”

Starr laughed. “I thought you’d be unhappy about that.”

“Unhappy?” he said loudly. “The McKittricks live only a hundred miles away and they watch everything I do. Hell—they’re probably filing for custody right now.”

“You’re just overreacting. They aren’t that bad, you know.”

“Oh, sure!”

“Unca Noah?” A hand tugged on his trousers. Distracted, he looked down at Becky’s worried face.

“It’s all right, baby,” he reassured. “Go play with your toys...or with Kitty.”

“Not baby,” she informed him. Her bottom lip pouted out and he winced. When she had a tantrum she realty had a tantrum. For all her sweetness, his niece was as stubborn as a mule.

“Noah...Dr. Bradley, are you there?”

“Just a minute, Ms. Granger.” He leaned down to Becky and tweaked one of her braids. It wasn’t a very good braid, but the best he’d been able to manage with her silky fine hair. “That’s right, you’re not a baby,” he agreed. “Breakfast will be ready in a few minutes. Can you wait a while?”

After a long pause she nodded and trotted to the corner, where Kitty was flicking his tail and observing his food bowl. Becky thumped his back and he turned and rubbed himself against her so hard, she toppled onto her bottom with a giggle.

Noah shook his head. Kitty was unaccountably gentle with Becky. He straightened and tucked the receiver under his chin. “Starr?”

“Yes.”

“We’ll have to talk about what’s best for Becky. When may I see you?”

“Anytime, I guess. I’ll be here the rest of the day. I’m staying with my mother and father. They have a store called From Earth and Sky—they live in the back.”

“Good. Becky is supposed to spend the morning with some friends, so I’ll get her settled before coming over.” Noah scribbled the directions and hung up with a terse goodbye.

Maybe, just maybe, under different circumstances he’d enjoy knowing Starr Granger. But maybe not. Sam’s death had reminded him how fragile life could be. He didn’t want to care about someone who treated it so casually.

Even a woman as intriguing as Starr.

Two hours later Noah parked his car and stared at the directions Starr had given him, then back at the house. A health food store? Starr’s parents owned a health food store.

He’d expected something entirely different. An art gallery perhaps. A snobbish, upscale gallery. The kind of straitlaced, conservative place the McKittricks would patronize. But it wasn’t, so how had Starr Granger and Amelia McKittrick ever become friends?

A sensation of unreality crept over him as he stepped through the gate and watched a pair of brown rabbits hop away, disappearing into the lush wilderness of the garden. It was like something from one of Becky’s storybooks—a combination of Peter Cottontail and Alice in Wonderland. Baskets of flowers and herbs hung from the overhanging eaves. Moss grew in velvet swathes between flagstones on the path and at the foundation of the house. And on the porch a mama cat lounged in the sun, three kittens busily nursing.

Warily he opened the front door and saw a plant-filled interior. Light cascaded through a myriad of crystals, sending fractured rainbows dancing through the air and across various wares in jars and bins. A woman sat at a loom under the far window, examining the pattern she was weaving. After a moment she looked up and smiled.

“Welcome,” she said softly.

“Uh...er...thanks,” Noah stuttered. Plainly this was Starr’s mother. They had the same stunning cheekbones, the same clear blue-green eyes, the same rich, golden brown hair. But where Starr radiated saucy self-reliance, her mother had the sweet, untroubled innocence of a child.

She rose to her feet, looking oddly sophisticated in a natural-weave skirt and sweater. “Would you like some tea? I have some wonderful chamomile I grew myself.” She paused and studied him for a moment. “Or would you prefer peppermint and honey?”

“Er...no...nothing, thanks,” Noah said quickly, unable to repress a small shudder.

“I understand. You’re a friend of my daughter’s.”

He blinked. Psychic? “Well...sort of.”

Just then a man strolled through a door in the rear. “Have you seen the radish seeds, Moon Bright? I want to start some sprouts for salad.”

“Blue,” she admonished gently. “You know Morning Star doesn’t like sprouts.”

“But these are different.” Blue looked at Noah, whose jaw had dropped at the vivid collection of names. “You must be here to see Morning Star.”

“Morning Star?” he repeated.

“She prefers to be called Starr,” Moon Bright explained.

Noah rubbed his temple. What...did he have a tattoo on his forehead? A warning sign? Danger. This Man Has Encountered Starr Granger. His Life Will Never Be The Same.

“Er...how did you know?”

“The suit,” Blue said.

“No herbal tea,” Moon Bright added. She sighed.

“None of her friends like herbal tea. Oh, dear, you’re not that man she married, are you?”

Married? Noah’s eyes narrowed as he realized how little he knew about Starr. And the worse part was learning she’d given him insomnia when she was definitely unavailable. He didn’t agree with “open” marriages.

“No,” he said shortly. “I’m not the one she married.”

Moon Bright appeared relieved. “I’m so glad.”

Noah couldn’t decide if he himself was insulted, or relieved. Marriage to Starr Granger would surely lead a man to stark raving insanity.

“Dad, where are your sales receipts for the past quarter?” exclaimed the “wife” in question as she swept into the room. In contrast to the artless tranquillity of her parents, she was a whirlwind of energy. “I can’t do an income projection without them.”

“You have company, dear.”

When Starr recognized Noah, her eyes widened. “Oh...Dr. Bradley. You’re earlier than I expected.”

“A doctor?” Moon Bright shook her head sadly. “Darling, I think we should talk.”

“Not now, mother.” Distracted, she looked at her father as he lifted various containers from the shelves and inspected the contents. “Dad, what are you looking for?”

“Radish seeds, dear. They make a very tangy sprout. I’m sure you’ll like them.”

Starr rubbed the back of her neck as though in sudden, acute pain.

“I’m glad he’s not the one you married,” Moon Bright murmured. “At least he said he wasn’t.”

“Uh...” Starr glanced briefly in Noah’s direction.

He glared, deciding he was both relieved and insulted. “Please, tell us about the man you did marry, since I’m not the ‘one.’”

“There’s not much to tell. I’m divorced.”

“You and Chase would still be together if you hadn’t stifled yourselves with legal boundaries. It’s so unnatural. Remember that next time, dear,” her mother advised. She looked at Noah and shook her head again, clearly alarmed he might be “the next time.”

“Thanks, Mom. I think I’ll go for a walk. I need some air. Try to find those sales receipts while I’m gone, okay, Dad?” She grabbed Noah’s arm and propelled him through the door. He endured the fast-paced march for two full blocks down the hillside before slowing her into a more normal pace.

Normal? Hell, he doubted anything was normal around Starr. Noah whistled beneath his breath. “Morning Star” hadn’t rebelled from a straitlaced home, she’d escaped herbal tea and radish sprout salads. Compared to her parents, she was a conservative rule follower, a staid pillar of the community. The difference was phenomenal.

“Let’s clarify something,” he said speculatively. “Your real name is Morning Star?”

“My passport says Starr Granger.”

“What does your birth certificate say?”

Starr grimaced in resignation. “Go ahead and laugh, get it out of your system. My mother is Moon Bright, and my father is Blue River. Of course, those aren’t their original names, just the ones they picked in their search for self-expression.”

“Moon Bright and Blue River are self-expressive?” he asked, incredulous.

She shrugged. “Don’t knock it. My mother originally wanted to be called Aurora Borealis.”

“L..uh...can see that would be awkward.”

“It was too much of a mouthful, even for my father,” Starr agreed. “They kind of evolved into relaxed ‘New Agers.’ You know, crystals and nonconventional spiritualism... that kind of thing. They were disappointed when I preferred a different life-style.”

“You can say that again. Jeez, you even got married. What a terrible blow that must have been. Don’t you know that marriage is the primary cause of divorce?”

She gave him a dirty look, equaling the one he’d given her not long before. “What do you want, Dr. Bradley?”

He clucked at her. “I’m not your doctor. You made sure of that, didn’t you?”

Starr was beginning to regret ever setting eyes on Noah Bradley. But she couldn’t regret kissing him, not completely. If she’d felt a tenth of the sizzle kissing her ex-husband as she’d felt kissing Noah, her marriage would have lasted a lot longer. Of course, she and Chase had never been together long enough in the same place to make anything last...including sizzle.

“I’m impulsive. You said so yourself,” Starr felt obliged to point out, though she didn’t expect Dr. Bradley to understand. She did plenty of rash things she later regretted. On the other hand, she’d bet Noah always had good, solid reasons for his actions. He was that kind of man.

“I think calling you impulsive is too mild,” Noah drawled. “Running into a burning house goes way beyond impulsive.”

“I didn’t run, I climbed. And it was perfectly safe. By the way, how is Kitty?”

“Kitty didn’t actually belong to us, but he’s been adopted. In less than twenty-four hours he’s ruined a silk tie, eaten a salmon fillet without permission and climbed the living room drapes.” Noah looked heavenward as though asking for divine intervention. “When I tried to get him down he catapulted off my shoulder and landed in the aquarium. Unfortunately, the top was off.”

A choking sound escaped from Starr’s throat.

He frowned. “It isn’t funny. I nearly lost my ear in the process.”

“I’ll bet the fish didn’t like it, either.” Starr laughed as she envisioned Noah Bradley in a battle of wills with “Kitty.” Boy, she wished she’d been there. It would have been priceless.

“Now that Kitty is fully aware of the aquarium, he’s spent hours in front of it, batting at the fish,” Noah concluded gloomily. “That animal splashed water and fish for ten feet, then made mincemeat out of me when I tried to rescue him.”

“I know,” Starr said, with somewhat less humor than before. She flexed her hands, which still bore the marks of Kitty’s first “rescue.” His nine lives were being rapidly depleted.

“Let me see how you’re healing,” Noah offered.

“Uh...I...” She stuttered to a halt. Her feelings toward Dr. Bradley were a peculiar mixture of curiosity and screeching alarm. “I thought you were angry at me,” she said quickly. “Because of the picture...and everything.”

“I am.” For an instant his expression turned somber. “But I’d hate for you to get an infection.”

Starr swallowed, contemplating the dangers of getting close to Noah Bradley. He was obviously an upstanding member of the establishment, yet the dark heat in his eyes tugged at her, coaxing an elemental response. No man—including her ex-husband—had ever made her feel that way.

Until now.

And that made him dangerous. How dangerous Starr didn’t want to find out. She’d learned the hard way that attraction didn’t last, and that ten seconds of fleeting pleasure wasn’t worth messing up the bed.

“Starr?”

“Okay, but you’re still not my doctor,” she said hastily. Foolishly. Becoming his patient would have been an easy way to protect herself from...him. “We’re just comparing battle scars, understand?”

His slow, reluctant smile spoke volumes, including a reminder of the kiss they’d shared. Well, hell. Even though nothing would come of it, how could he say being impulsive was so bad?

“If this is ‘show and tell,’ there are a few other places I wouldn’t mind seeing,” he suggested.

To Starr’s astonishment, she had to struggle to keep from turning red. Lord, she hadn’t blushed since she was a teenager, and never to such an obvious gambit. But then, Noah Bradley was no teenager, and a far cry from the tough newsmen she usually encountered.

“Here,” she said, holding her hands out in front of her.

Noah took them and examined the healing wounds. His fingers were strong and hard, yet sensitive enough to catch the quickening rush of her pulse. “Pretty good,” he murmured. “No signs of infection. What about the scratches on your shoulder?”

“I’m hardly going to show you them, am I?” Starr asked, trying to free her hands.

Crisp, salt-laden air blew inward from the ocean, unaffected by the sunshine. Even so, Starr could feel the warmth from Noah’s body. He’d be pleasant to snuggle up with on a cold night—much better than an electric blanket.