Bluegrass Baby

“Are you sorry you’re here?” He hoped not. Milla had stirred something inside of him. And not just sexual attraction. There were other things going on, too. Admiration. Respect. Milla Johnson was a dedicated professional who had a genuine concern for her patients. And she had a depth to her that the other women he dated didn’t have.

“I ran into Joe Canfield outside.” Her voice softened, and she looked at him with Bambi eyes that made him want to tear into the guy who’d upset her.

“He wasn’t very nice,” she added.

Kyle reached across the table, taking Milla’s hand—a move that probably surprised them both. But he quickly recovered. “Don’t let that guy get to you. You didn’t do anything wrong, and the judge ought to be able to see through him.”

She nodded, but her vulnerability smacked him upside the heart, making him wish he could protect her from all the things that went bump in the night. His soft side didn’t surface very often, yet it struck with a vengeance tonight.

Before they finished their drinks, the hostess led them to a quiet booth in the dining room and handed them menus.

The waiter brought a basket of warm bread and placed it on the table. Kyle welcomed the interruption. And as he reached for the golden-brown loaf, Milla did the same. Their hands brushed, shocking him with a tingle of heat that lasted long after the brief contact. Neither of them commented, yet her silent gaze told Kyle she’d felt it, too.

They remained pensive for a while, engrossed in the entrées Melinda’s offered, Kyle supposed, although he was far more interested in getting through dinner and seeing what pleasures the rest of the evening might bring.

Milla set her menu to the side of her place setting and leaned slightly forward. “What made you decide to be a doctor?”

Her question took him aback, since most people asked why he’d chosen pediatrics, a specialty that surprised anyone who’d known him growing up.

Kyle had always been prone to mischief, a result of being one of Billy Bingham’s brats, he supposed. As a kid, he’d gotten a reputation for snaking his way out of trouble. But there didn’t seem to be any use going into that.

“When I was fifteen, a couple of buddies and I went on an overnight campout at a lake near the house where I grew up. We barbecued hamburgers for dinner.” Kyle studied the flickering candle that sat in the middle of the linen-draped table. He didn’t like to talk about that day, maybe because the memory still clawed at his chest and throat.

Milla leaned forward, listening. Casting some kind of healing balm on the pain he’d harbored and the utter helplessness he’d felt as he watched a strong, robust kid dwindle away, plagued by an unknown disease.

“My best friend, Jimmy Hoben, liked his meat rare,” Kyle continued.

She didn’t respond, but her eyes shared her compassion, her sympathy, her understanding.

“A few days later, Jimmy got sick. Really sick. And the doctors had a hell of a time figuring out what was wrong with him. Even after they realized his illness was caused by e-coli, the damage had been done. And in spite of everything they did, every medication and treatment they tried, Jimmy didn’t make it.”

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“It was a tough thing for everyone, I guess. Especially a kid like me.” His voice bore the huskiness of emotion he’d tried to bury years ago. “I couldn’t figure out why modern medicine couldn’t heal my friend. Or others like him. In fact, I was so determined to get some answers, that I went to the library and hit the books, trying to learn everything I could about e-coli and the effect it had on the human body. That focus triggered a deep interest in medicine. And research.”

She nodded in understanding, but maybe that’s because she hadn’t known him growing up. Hadn’t known the hell-raiser he’d once been.

When he told his high school guidance counselor that he’d decided to go to medical school, the guy had been shocked. But in spite of the counselor’s disbelief, Kyle made a dramatic academic turnaround, which surprised the entire teaching staff, as well as all of his friends. Within one semester, his teachers and peers were amazed when the campus bad boy aced every class.

“I found my niche in human biology and anatomy,” he said.

“So you decided to be a doctor.”

“Sort of.” He shrugged, then slid her a crooked grin. “Actually, when my residency is done, I’m going into research.”

“Around here?” she asked.

“No. Back in Boston. I have no intention of staying in Merlyn County longer than the time it takes me to complete my residency.” He could have explained that his decision to stay here that long was a way of compromising with his mother, of making her happy until he moved on for good.

His playboy daddy had provided well for his illegitimate kids, particularly Kyle. And for that reason, Kyle had been able to attend Harvard medical school. His mom hoped that he would eventually make his home in Merlyn County and take up his rightful place with the Binghams.

But Kyle had no intention of elbowing into his father’s family.

“That’s too bad,” Milla said. “You’re a great pediatrician and have a lot to offer the community.”

He shrugged. “Maybe so. But I can do more good at a research hospital.”

“To study pediatric pathology?”

“Kids shouldn’t die before they get a chance to live.” Kyle didn’t usually open up like this, but for some reason it felt right sharing memories and dreams with Milla. Dinner was over before he knew it.

As the waiter took the last of their plates away, Kyle studied the woman across from him. The candlelight glistened off the strands of her hair, bathing her in a romantic glow. Tonight, more than ever, she had some kind of blood-pumping effect on him.

She declined coffee and dessert, which was fine with him. But he wasn’t ready for the evening to end, not even after he’d paid the bill and walked her out to where she’d parked her car.

His hands ached to reach out and pull her near. But he waited, biding his time until Milla gave him reason to believe she would welcome his touch. He wasn’t sure why, but this particular woman made him feel like an awkward adolescent with a bad haircut and a ketchup stain on his white T-shirt. And he hadn’t felt that way since he’d had sex for the first time. After that, his confidence level had skyrocketed.

Until this moment.

The summer night was silent, save for the sound of their shoes crunching on the pavement. And the parking lot, now nearly empty, reminded Kyle it was time to call it a day. To end the pleasant evening they’d shared.

Milla paused by the car door, and her eyes caught his. Something passed between them; although, for the life of him, he wasn’t sure what it was. If it hadn’t rocked his sex drive to the core, he might have been scared and looked for a reason to escape. As it was, he stood still, savoring the woman and the moment.

A full moon peered from a lone cloud in the evening sky, watching over them, it seemed.

Always relaxed and confident with women, Kyle wasn’t sure what had gotten into him. Maybe it was the moonlight dancing in a star-filled summer sky. And maybe it was the fact he hadn’t had sex since coming back to Merlyn County. Or maybe it was some kind of spell Milla Johnson had cast on him.

Either way, he couldn’t imagine letting her drive away without brushing his lips across hers. And as he did so, she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close, allowing the kiss to deepen and their tongues to touch and taste.

She whimpered softly, and he was lost in a swirl of heat, a fire of desire.

A sense of urgency swept over him, and he pulled her close, felt her fingers snake through his hair. A jolt of heat damn near sent him over the edge, and he wanted more. Far more than he could have, standing out in the open, in a parking lot.

He wanted this woman. Tonight.

The strength of his desire should have scared him, should have caused him to turn tail and get his happy-to-be-a-bachelor butt out of Dodge.

Instead he savored her scent, her touch, and lost himself in one of the most arousing kisses he’d ever had.

Still, it didn’t take him long to realize this public display of raw, sexual hunger needed to be taken indoors. With great reluctance he broke the kiss long enough to whisper against the silky strands of her hair.

“Come home with me.”

Chapter Two

Come home with me.

As the words echoed through Milla’s core, her own physical need chimed in.

Kyle wanted her. And she wanted him, too. The strength of her arousal surprised her, as did the decision hovering in the sultry night air.

Her knees still wobbly from the sensual assault of Kyle’s mouth, she tried to catch her breath, to gain control of her runaway desire. But she wasn’t having any luck.

Kyle leaned against the side of her car. Had his knees nearly given out on him, too?

Their bodies no longer touched, but his gaze held her transfixed. “There’s something powerful going on between us.”

He had that right. The kiss they’d shared had been so hot, so unlike anything she’d ever experienced, that her ability to think or reason seemed to have disappeared. For good.

And right now she wasn’t so sure that was a bad thing. Her feelings were too strong, charged and close to the surface.

“You feel it, too,” he told her.

She nodded. “Yes, I do.”

“What are we going to do about it?”

As she saw it, they had two options. She could get in her car and drive away, knowing regret would follow her home. And this darn whatever-it-was would haunt her every time their paths crossed.

Or a second and more pleasing option—she could throw caution to the wind. Do something wild for a change. Experience something she might never experience again.

She could make love to Kyle Bingham, resident heartthrob of Merlyn County Regional Hospital. If his kiss could turn her inside out, what would their lovemaking be like?

They hadn’t closed the sexually charged gap between them, yet she could hear his heart pounding, feel his blood rushing through his veins. Or was that her own?

“Let’s take this inside,” he said. “Behind closed doors.”

Milla knew she should pull herself together and graciously decline. But the fact of the matter was she wanted more of Kyle’s kisses, more of his touch.

And she wanted it now.

He stepped toward her and brushed a strand of hair from her cheek. His heated gaze drew her into the sexual depths of something she couldn’t resist.

“All right.” Her voice held a seductive edge she’d never noticed before. And when the words left her mouth, she didn’t regret them. Not at all.

He caught her cheek in his hand and brought his mouth to hers in a hot, breath-stealing kiss that spoke a promise—not of forever, but of fulfillment.

But that’s all she needed tonight.

Fulfillment.

To feel competent and capable, no longer shaken by the unfairness of the Canfields’ charges. To have her confidence restored in the arms of a doctor who made her heart soar and her blood race.

“Okay. Let’s go,” she said. “You lead the way.”

They each climbed into their cars, and she followed Kyle to the outskirts of town, where he turned down a quiet little street called Bluebonnet Lane. His black BMW pulled under a carport near the end unit of a sage-colored triplex flanked by duplexes on each side. She parked on the street.

Funny, she’d imagined him living somewhere else, someplace expensive and grand. Not that it mattered, of course.

He opened her door in a gentlemanly manner, then helped her from the car.

“I bought these units as an investment,” Kyle said, as he led her to the front door. “My mom lives in one side of the first duplex. She’s a proud lady and won’t let me help her out financially. So we reached a compromise. She watches out for the other units in exchange for rent. When I move back to Boston, she’ll oversee this one, too.”

When he let her inside the small home, she wasn’t sure what to expect. Something to match his GQ clothing and his flashy car, she supposed. Instead she found the living room had been decorated simply. A plain brown sofa. White walls. Miniblinds on the window overlooking the street. His place was clean and almost sterile.

The only thing that stood out was a big-screen television that seemed out of place.

“I’m not home often,” he said, as though reading her thoughts. “I couldn’t see any point in buying furniture or in putting anything on the walls. I’ve got all I need.”

She nodded, scanning the sparse, uncluttered room, unable to keep from wondering if he ever felt lonely in a place that seemed to be little more than four walls, a sofa and a theater-size TV.

“Can I get you something to drink?” he asked, his voice low, almost quiet. “A glass of wine, maybe?”

The attraction between them remained hot, yet neither moved.

Was Kyle nervous, too? The dapper doctor who had every single midwife and nurse on staff at the clinic and the hospital giggling and whispering like girls with a crush on the new boy at school?

Maybe so.

The thought pleased her and made her feel feminine and powerful. The arousing effect only bolstered her confidence in the decision she’d made to follow him home.

She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smiled. “I don’t think either of us came here wanting more to drink.”

He tossed her a crooked grin, and all signs of nervousness fell away. “You’re right. I was just trying to be a good host.”

Feeling bolder than she’d ever felt before, Milla stepped closer, reached a hand to his cheek, brushed a thumb across his angular jaw and felt the tingle from the faint bristle of his beard. “Maybe one more kiss will make this easier for both of us.”

She’d barely lifted her lips to his when he took the lead, took her tongue and took her breath away.

Lordy, how that man could kiss.

Milla lost herself in the wet, velvety confines of Kyle’s mouth. And in the heat of his embrace, reality slipped away and magic took its place, releasing a display of mystical fireworks that lit her heart and soul.

Kyle wasn’t sure what it was about Milla that swept him away, but he wasn’t about to analyze it, not when he held her in his arms and felt her breasts splayed against his chest as she leaned into his demanding erection.

He’d never lost himself in a woman before, hadn’t ever expected to, but he seemed to be momentarily losing himself in Milla, in her kiss and the soft swirl of her springtime scent. He might be sorry later, but that’s when he would think about it.

Later. After he’d buried himself in her softness, lost himself in the passion that plagued them both. There was a heat in Milla’s touch, a fire in her kiss. And he couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

She tugged at his shirt, pulling it from the waistband of his slacks, and then grabbed at his belt, freeing him. Freeing them both.

All the while, her mouth held his in sweet surrender. Her fingers blazed a trail along his skin, singeing his nerve endings.

He reached for the zipper of her dress, unleashing the black cotton, and he slipped the garment off her shoulders. He wanted to feel her skin on his, breasts to chest. And he doubted they could remove their clothes fast enough.

But Kyle wasn’t about to take Milla on the living room floor, not this time, anyway. With reluctance, he broke the kiss and took her hand. “Come with me.” Then he led her down the hall and into the bedroom.

She stood before him by the king-size bed. Her dress had fallen to the waist, revealing a satiny black bra over hardened and responsive nipples. A sexual flush blazed across her throat and chest, announcing a desire every bit as strong as his.

He cupped her face, brushed a thumb across the silky texture of her cheek and saw the glaze of passion in those pretty brown eyes. “You’re a beautiful woman, Milla.”

She blushed, and again he was taken by her lack of pretense. Couldn’t she see what he saw?

“I want to make this special for you.” And damn it, he did. There was something virginal about her, something sweet and innocent. But she didn’t kiss him like a virgin or touch him like one.

She pushed her dress over her hips, then stepped out of the garment and stood before him in skimpy black undergarments. He watched as she unhooked her bra and freed two perfect breasts. His breath caught, and his testosterone raged.

What was it about this woman that made her seem so different from the others?

“Make love to me, Kyle.” Then she unbuttoned his shirt and pressed herself to him, stoking a blaze deep within him.

He tore himself from her embrace, just long enough to dig through the nightstand drawer for a condom. His efforts were thwarted by haste and desire, as he fumbled with the foil packet and tried to protect them both.

When he joined her on the bed, their hungry kiss resumed and tongues mated in a lover’s frenzy. Caught up in a fire that might never burn out, Kyle realized his only hope for relief was to bury himself in her.

As he entered, she arched up to meet him, and he was lost. Lost in lust and passion.

Kyle had wanted their first time together to be special, but all he could think about was how good it felt to be inside of her, to have her meet each of his thrusts, to be shaken to the core by a powerful climax that made her cry out in pleasure and damn near turned him inside out.

He’d wanted to love her with a slow hand, taking the time to make tonight memorable for them both, since a continuing relationship wasn’t wise and certainly wasn’t in his game plan. But his fiery passion burned out of control.

When he’d had a chance to catch his breath and grow hard again, he would take it slow and easy, making sure the rest of the night was every bit as good as it could be.

But for the time being, he would hold her until the last wave of pleasure ebbed.

Milla glanced at the clock on the wall—3:00 a.m. The scent of lovemaking filled the air, and her naked body still hummed from the last sweet joining, just an hour before.

Kyle held her close, one of his arms tucked under her waist and the other draped across her breasts. His gentle breathing told her he was asleep, contented and sated.

But she wasn’t.

Well, she was definitely sated. Their lovemaking had been great—mindless and hot, but fulfilling.

She’d found much-needed comfort, as well as pleasure, in Kyle’s arms. But after the loving, when her conscience had a chance to sneak in and shake a finger at her, contentment slipped by the wayside.

Making love to Kyle had seemed right, but in the wee hours of the morning, after the waves of the last powerful climax had ceased, her good sense returned.

Her conscience, which had deserted her earlier in the evening, surfaced with a vengeance. Yes, she’d willingly followed Kyle home. And she’d enjoyed the best lovemaking she’d ever known. Not that she had anything to compare it to—one boyfriend in college who’d been a mistake from the get go.

She’d wanted to make love to Kyle, and he hadn’t disappointed her. He was a great lover, considerate and gifted in the fine art of seduction and pleasure. Of course, that was probably because he’d had so much practice.

But Milla hadn’t been thinking clearly. Her head had been in a romantic cloud and her hormones had taken over.

While in Melinda’s parking lot, making out like a couple of teenagers, she hadn’t given a hoot about what her mother might say. But now, after the loving, she realized her mother would never understand Milla having a relationship of any kind with Kyle.

Not that Milla hadn’t crossed her mom on other occasions and weathered the storm. Truthfully, Milla dating a Bingham would be a big thorn in her mother’s backside, but their mother-daughter relationship wouldn’t suffer any serious consequences.

More troublesome than her mother’s disapproval was that Milla had become intimately involved with a co-worker. What if word of their…indiscretion leaked out?

That problem, she supposed, could also be dealt with.

But the next accusation her conscience hurled at her struck hard, knocking the wind out of her like a tumble from a tree and a belly flop on the lawn.

What if the Canfields learned that Milla and the pediatrician who would testify in her defense were sleeping together?

Things were certain to get uglier than they already were.

Sure, Milla and Kyle both knew the Canfields didn’t have a case. But malpractice suits didn’t have to be based on medical logic. The Canfields could sue—and win—without having any concrete medical evidence. If taken to court, the publicity alone would hurt the Janice Foster Clinic, as well as Milla’s reputation. And the case would also result in higher malpractice insurance premiums for her and the clinic.

No, the problems the malpractice suit could bring hadn’t disappeared. And, in fact, they had probably been compounded by her decision to make love to the doctor who would testify on her behalf.

Kyle slept soundly, obviously having no qualms about their night of passion.

But Milla had plenty of reservations. And regrets. No matter how good it had been.

Carefully slipping away from his embrace, she quietly dressed and tiptoed from his room. She grabbed her purse and heels from the living room, not taking time to slip on her shoes, and stole out of the house.

A small, adolescent voice inside called out, Hey! What about Kyle? What about what we just shared?

But Milla needed to face the truth. There couldn’t be anything between her and Kyle. Not now.

What if he calls? the young voice cried. What will you tell him?

The voice of reason stepped in to answer. Kyle is probably a player, just like his dad—a guy who loved whatever lady he was with.

If Kyle called her—which wasn’t likely, given his playboy daddy’s blood—she’d tell him their…intimacy had been a mistake.

Milla Johnson had enough to worry about without the complications a relationship with Kyle Bingham would bring.

Chapter Three

Milla arrived home while the stars still glittered in the morning sky.

Once inside the small, darkened bedroom she shared with her mother, she moved quietly, but only as a courtesy—not out of fear of discovery. Milla had never had any trouble standing up to her mom when they’d had confrontations. But she was much too tired to stir things up now.

“Is that you, honey?” her mom asked, voice heavy with sleep.

“Yes, it’s me. I’m sorry for waking you.”

“It’s all right. Those babies never choose a convenient time to be born, do they?”

Milla bit her lip and held back a response. As a midwife, she’d spent many nights at the bedside of a laboring woman, providing obstetrical skill and support. It was a job she loved, a career in which she thrived despite its demands on her time.

It was natural for Sharon Johnson to assume her daughter had been working.

Milla had always been honest, even if that honesty ruffled a few maternal feathers, but she couldn’t bring herself to speak or to respond one way or the other.

She looked at her mother’s blanketed form and watched as her mom tugged at the covers, rolled over, faced the wall and blocked out the nocturnal intrusion, intending to go back to sleep. The woman was completely and blissfully unaware that her daughter had spent most of the night locked in Kyle Bingham’s arms.

Milla hadn’t lied—exactly. Of course, God probably kept a count of those pesky omissions, but she was too tired to think about that now. Too tired to feel guilty.

Well, too tired to feel guilty about anything other than making love to a man her mother wouldn’t approve of. An experienced lover who’d taken her to the heights of sexual pleasure, again and again, coaxing multiple orgasms with ease.