Unexpectedly Expecting!

“We’ll do things together. I won’t be reduced to accepting invitations from a man who spells his name with a ‘ph’ instead of a ‘v,’ like normal people. A man from Boston, or worse, New Jersey.”

That decided, Nora thought about standing up and getting ready for bed. Between the tornado and her unexpected stint of nursing, she’d had a busy day. She was tired, she thought as her eyes drifted closed. But right now she felt too comfortable to move. Instead she would just…

The man’s hands were warm and smooth and strong. Not sissy hands, but powerful and lean, with long fingers that knew exactly where to touch her. Despite being curled up on the sofa, Nora found herself arching toward those questing fingers that explored first her arm, then her shoulder. She trembled at the feel of his heat against her bare skin. She—

Bare skin? Nora opened her eyes and realized she was lying naked on her sofa. And she was no longer alone. Stephen Remington crouched next to her. Instead of his slacks, dress shirt and white coat, he wore jeans and a cable-knit sweater. Far too dressed, she thought hazily.

“Tell me about your past,” he murmured, then kissed the sensitive skin just below her ear.

“Don’t want to,” she managed to say, between a gasp of erotic excitement and a soft cry of pleasure.

His strong hands urged her to shift onto her back. She did so, tossing the pillow away. He kissed her cheek, her chin, but when she tried to press her lips to his, he turned away. Before she could protest, he cupped her breasts. Thumb and forefinger teased her nipples, making her cry out and arch into his caress. She was on fire. She couldn’t remember the last time a man had touched her, but it had been far too long. Celibacy was the downside of not getting involved, she thought, her mind thick with long-denied passion.

He continued to stroke her curves. He pressed kisses to her belly, then moved lower. She shifted so that he could kiss her most intimate place of all. For a second there was nothing, then the perfect wonder of his tongue tasting her, teasing her, making her tilt her hips toward him and desperately call his name. Her body tensed and spiraled closer and closer to her point of release. She’d never been so ready so fast.

But before she could climax, he stopped. She opened her eyes and stared at him in disbelief. “What’s wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing.”

She reached to touch his head, his face, his hair. She was on fire and she would die if he didn’t continue, didn’t finish.

“Please,” she breathed, holding him tightly. “Don’t stop. Don’t.”

Nora woke with a start. She was still curled up on the sofa, clutching the pillow to her belly. Confusion filled her, then cleared as she realized it had been nothing more than a dream. A stupid dream that didn’t mean anything.

She sat up and realized that while her mind might have figured out it was just a dream, her body was less aware of what was going on. She was aroused and ready to make love. To Stephen Remington of all people. How dare he get into her mind and mess with her that way? How dare he—

She moaned as she remembered the feel of his mouth against her body, then she shivered. She’d spent a couple of hours with the guy and he’d invaded her sleep? What was going on?

Nora vowed that whatever it was she would figure out the problem, then fix it. She wasn’t interested in having a man in her life. Not now, not ever. They were annoying and difficult and not for her. Not even Dr. Stephen Remington.

Chapter Three

“I didn’t expect to see you here.”

Nora froze at the sound of the too-familiar voice. The voice of the man who had haunted her sleep for the past two nights, invading her time of rest and assaulting her with hot kisses and erotic touches that left her aroused and frustrated when she awoke.

She ignored him by focusing on her client—an elderly lady stretched out on a chair, with her neck propped on the edge of the shampoo bowl in a back room of the Lone Star Retirement Village.

“Don’t distract her,” Mrs. Bailey said in her wavering voice. The white-haired, birdlike woman was nearly ninety. “Nora is busy making me beautiful. It takes longer these days than it used to.”

“I would never dream of getting in the way of a lovely woman and her appointment with beauty,” he said. “I just wanted to say hello to my favorite hairdresser.”

Nora was wrist-deep in shampoo and hair, but she couldn’t help glancing at Stephen as he leaned against the door frame of the small room. He wore a white coat over a dust-colored shirt and brown slacks and there was a knowing look in his dark eyes. As if he suspected she’d spent the past couple of nights dreaming about him.

“Not likely,” she muttered, referring more to him guessing her secret than to her being his favorite hairdresser.

“It’s true,” he protested. “You’re the only hairdresser I know.”

She nearly snorted at the adolescent comment. “Aren’t you the clever one? How very humorous. It’s amazing that I can keep upright, what with the laughter coursing through my body at that one. Gee, Doc, if medicine doesn’t work out, you have a career in stand-up comedy at the ready.”

He didn’t budge. Worse, he didn’t even blink at her tirade. “Does the word overkill mean anything to you, Nora?”

“No. Some things can’t be dead enough.”

She gave him an insincere smile, then flipped on the water. When the fine spray heated to the correct temperature, Nora rinsed off her hands, then carefully removed the shampoo from Mrs. Bailey’s white curls.

“I’d like to talk with you before you leave,” he said, raising his voice to be heard over the sound of running water.

She had a strong urge to tell him that she didn’t care what he wanted, but she didn’t want to sound like a petulant child. She shrugged her acceptance of his statement, then felt more than saw him leave the room.

“Why don’t you like Dr. Stephen?” Mrs. Bailey asked as Nora wrapped a towel around her head and helped her into a sitting position. “He’s very nice. Besides, he’s really a dish.” Mrs. Bailey blinked her pale blue eyes and smiled. “I suppose you young people would say he’s hot.”

Nora wrinkled her nose. “I’m not going to say anything at all about the good doctor’s appearance. I’m sure he’s everything he should be. But I’m not interested.”

“Nora, you can’t hide from men forever.”

“Why not?” The plan had been working so far. If not for those darned erotic dreams.

“Because you’re a beautiful young woman who should be married with a family.”

The elderly woman’s words caused a tiny ache to take up residence in Nora’s heart. “I wouldn’t mind the kids,” she said honestly. “In fact I’d like them very much. It’s the husband I object to.”

“Men aren’t so bad.”

“Neither is an allergy to shellfish. That doesn’t mean I want one.”

Mrs. Bailey chuckled. “Nora Darby, you’re a pistol, girl. But mark my words. One day you’re going to meet a man who sweeps you off your feet. You’re going to lose your heart to him and then where will you be?”

“Running for my life.”

“No. You’ll be very happy.”

Stephen looked up at the light knock on the entrance to the makeshift office he used when he was called out to the Lone Star Retirement Village. Nora Darby glared at him, her beautiful brown eyes snapping with temper, her hackles already raised as she prepared for the slight she was so sure was coming.

Stephen bit back a grin. Nora was the sexiest woman he’d ever seen—at least in person. He remembered a couple of adolescent fantasies that had come close. Today she wore her dark, curly hair pulled on top of her head in a ponytail. Curls tumbled down to the nape of her neck, where they teased the faintly tanned skin there. The temperature had climbed into the mid-eighties—not unusual for spring in Texas, or so he’d been told. In honor of the heat—or maybe just to torment him—Nora had dressed in a cropped short-sleeved white shirt that had impossibly tempting, tiny buttons that started at the valley between her breasts and continued to the hem of the shirt, at her waist. Her low-slung denim skirt left about two inches of skin bare around her middle. Long, tanned legs disappeared into worn cowboy boots.

“What did you want?” she asked, folding her arms under her breasts. The movement pulled the shirt higher, exposing more of her tummy.

Nora Darby had a body built for sin, he thought, amazed that he could feel heat flaring through his body. He hadn’t wanted a woman in so long, he’d assumed that part of him had died…or at least been frozen. Apparently he’d only needed the right kind of inspiration to wake things up.

“What’s that expression?” he asked. “The one about a woman being a long, tall drink of water?”

She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah, I’m tall. Five-nine. Is that what you wanted to talk about? And while we’re on the subject, I don’t appreciate being ordered into the inner sanctum. I don’t work for you.”

“It wasn’t an order,” he said, motioning for her to take the chair on the opposite side of his desk. “It was a request.”

She ignored his invitation and stayed by the door. “You didn’t say please.”

She was twenty kinds of trouble, he thought, holding in yet another grin. Damn, she made him feel alive and as randy as a sixteen-year-old spying on cheerleading practice.

“Please,” he said, rising to his feet and walking around to stand behind the chair. “I would be most honored if you would be so kind as to give me a few minutes of your time.”

Her eyebrows drew together in a scowl, but she tossed her head and made her way to the chair. When she plopped down, he returned to his own seat.

“I don’t like you,” she said before he could broach a different subject. “You’ve got the entire town convinced you’re a wonderful doctor, so kind, so handsome. I don’t believe a word of it.”

She was defensive, he thought, feeling a surge of pleasure. Which meant she felt threatened. Did he get to her? Maybe his physical reaction to her wasn’t completely one-sided.

“Thank you for your candor,” he said, leaning forward and resting his hands on his desk. “What I wanted to talk to you about was the women you see when you’re here.”

He read her thoughts as clearly as if she’d printed them on paper. She wasn’t sure why he was ignoring her comment about not liking him. She’d expected some kind of reaction—perhaps a defense of his practice. But Nora didn’t threaten him. Quite the opposite. He didn’t know why she wanted to play the prickly virgin, but he didn’t object to her following a script, as long as she didn’t expect the same from him.

“What about the women I see?” she asked, latching on to a new perceived slight. “You think it’s silly or a waste of time. That they’re old women and having their hair done or painting their nails doesn’t matter.” Fire flashed in her beautiful eyes. Her full mouth curled in disdain.

“I might not have your medical degree, Dr. Remington, but I know people. Especially women. I don’t care if they’re ten or a hundred, they care about their appearance. Feeling pretty reminds them they’re alive, and in a good way that pain and illness can’t. I come out here every week and see my regulars. They’re important to me. In a way, that’s part of the service I provide. It’s not all about curlers and nail polish. Some of it is about connecting. Making them feel that someone knows who they are and cares about them.”

As she spoke, her breathing increased, making her breasts rise and fall in a most provocative way. It was nearly enough to distract Stephen from her words. Nearly, but not quite.

“Stop assuming the worst, my little hellcat,” he said calmly. “I’m not being critical or judging what you do. As a physician I know the value of treating a patient’s soul as well as the body. I applaud your efforts. I encourage them. If a regular client of yours doesn’t have the money for a shampoo and whatever it is you do, I would like you to tell me. I’m sure we can arrange something by way of a supplemental payment.”

She blinked. “Oh.”

“Yes, ‘oh.’ I also wanted to ask you to let me know if anyone you see seems depressed or lethargic. My patients matter to me and I want to be informed of any change in their condition. Especially those here at the retirement village.”

Her lips pressed together as she absorbed his words. She cleared her throat. “I can do that.”

He rose to his feet. “What? No witty comeback, no scathing comment?”

Her gaze didn’t meet his. Instead she seemed to focus on the pocket of his lab coat. “Not at this time.”

He had the strongest urge to walk around the table and kiss her. Just cup her cheek and lay one on her until they were both breathless. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

“How disappointing,” he said quietly, referring to the kiss that wouldn’t be as much as the lack of snappy comeback. “Maybe next time.”

She gaped at him like a fish. While she was still in shock, and relatively docile, he made his escape, chuckling all the way.

“Like I want to be here,” Nora grumbled to herself a couple of days later as she pulled into the open area in front of the main house at the Darby ranch.

Her mother had issued a dinner invitation, and when Nora had tried to get out of it, Hattie had informed her it was a command performance. Death and dismemberment were the only excuses for lack of attendance. She glanced at her left hand and the broken ring-finger nail. She doubted that would count with her mother, so here she was.

She parked her car next to Katie’s Explorer. Katie and her son, Shane, had been living on the ranch for more than a month now. Nora climbed out of her car and frowned. Katie had moved in temporarily, until her new house was built. Shouldn’t it be finished by now? Maybe the two Fitzgeralds could leave the Darby ranch and go to their own home. Wouldn’t that be nice? Or Katie could leave Shane behind. That would be even better.

Pleased at the thought, Nora hurried up the steps and entered the house. “Hi,” she called as she stepped into the living room. “It’s me.”

She had planned to say more, to step forward to hug her mother and maybe tease her brother, but all thoughts fled her brain. One second she was in complete command of her senses and the next she was a blubbering idiot. All because Stephen Remington stood by the fireplace, a can of beer in his hand, looking for all the world as if he belonged there. No doubt he’d been invited by her mother in a futile attempt at matchmaking. She barely noticed anyone else in the room.

Her heart began to stutter and thump in her chest. Her legs grew weak and suddenly her entire body felt about twenty degrees hotter. Just setting eyes on Stephen was enough to remind her of the erotic dreams she’d been having. Dreams she couldn’t seem to make stop. Night after night she found herself caught up in sensual wonder, with him touching her and her begging him to make love with her. Every morning she woke up aroused, unfulfilled and confused.

“Hello, Nora,” her mother said warmly, rising to her feet and holding out her arms. “You look lovely as always.”

Nora moved forward automatically. She hugged her mother, then helped her back into her seat. “How are you feeling?”

A few months before, Hattie had fallen while barrel racing at a friend’s barbecue. She’d required surgery and physical therapy to heal her injuries. Nora and her brother Jack had been torn between admiration for their fifty-something mother’s zest for life and frustration that she would take such risks. Still, Hattie had never been one to follow the rules.

“I’m wonderful,” her mother said, smiling and patting the cushion next to her. “I’m down to weekly physical therapy, and I’ll be riding by the end of the month.”

“Riding? You can’t be serious.”

Nora nodded at her brother, who sat in the sofa opposite, then turned her attention to the woman sitting next to him. Katie Fitzgerald was blond, petite and pretty. As a teenager Nora had been taller than all the boys and had never felt as if she would fit in. Perfect Katie Fitzgerald had been the center of attention, smart and popular. Nora still felt like a gangly colt around the other woman.

“Is it all right for my mother to ride?” Nora asked.

Katie grinned. “You think she’s going to listen to me? I’m just her physical therapist. Hattie is her own woman. You know that as well as anyone.”

Nora sighed. Katie was right. She patted her mother’s hand. “Just be careful.”

“You could ask me to tell her it isn’t wise,” Stephen said from his place by the hearth. “After all, I’m her doctor.”

Nora wanted to say, “Don’t remind me,” but that would sound too juvenile. “I guess I’m going to have to trust my mom to be more careful this time,” she said, avoiding Stephen’s gaze.

She hated that she was actually afraid to talk to the man. As if by engaging him in conversation she would inadvertently reveal what was in her mind. She glanced around the spacious living room and saw Shane, Katie’s son, sitting in a chair by the window and playing a handheld video game.

She rose and crossed to him. As she approached, the blond-haired, blue-eyed boy looked up at her. His small glasses rested halfway down his nose. He pushed them back with an automatic gesture, then held out the game to her.

“Are we saving the universe?” she asked as she took the game and plopped down on the floor next to him.

“Yup. But I’ve got a really high score.”

She raised her eyebrows. “And you don’t think I can beat you?”

Shane grinned. “No way. You’re a grown-up and a girl.”

“Be careful about the girl insults,” Stephen warned. “Nora doesn’t take kindly to those.”

“Ignore him,” Nora whispered, and pressed a couple of buttons on the keypad. “Is this where I remind you I can get to a higher level than you on the space warrior game?”

“Just a couple of times,” Shane told her.

“I see. And how many times have we played?”

Shane leaned forward and rested his bony elbow on her shoulder. She didn’t mind the slight discomfort, or the weight of him as he leaned on her. “Maybe three times.”

“And I beat you on how many of those games?”

“All three.”

“Do you still want to talk about girls not having the skills?”

He giggled. “But that doesn’t count.”

“Oh, it doesn’t, does it?” She tossed the game onto the cushion, then turned quickly and began tickling him. “I say it counts a lot, young man. I say it counts more than anything.”

Shane fell back into the chair, laughing and shrieking, pushing her fingers away from his ribs, then protesting when she stopped. Finally, he slid off the chair and settled onto her lap. Nora might be ambivalent about her brother’s relationship with Katie Fitzgerald, but she was a hundred percent sure about Katie’s wonderful son. Nora adored Shane.

The remaining adults were discussing the rebuilding efforts after the tornado. Nora wrapped her arms around Shane and let her gaze drift around the room. She remembered a time when the furniture in the house had been shabby and Hattie had stretched every penny to the breaking point. In the past few years, that had changed. A combination of Jack’s expert management of the ranch and an influx of cash from newly found oil on the property had given the Darby family a taste of prosperity.

Much of the old house had been renovated, including the wood floors in this room and the entire kitchen. Worn furniture had been replaced. Nora was pleased that there was finally money in the bank to see the ranch through future tough times. Jack and Hattie had also put money in trust for all seven of the Darby children. Nora was already eligible to start taking out her share, but she didn’t know what she would spend it on. She’d decided to keep her nest egg in the bank where it could grow steadily.

Her brother gave Katie a knowing look, then stood and left the room. Nora watched him go. Something was up, she thought, wondering what secrets Katie and Jack might share.

Plenty, she realized a couple of minutes later when Jack returned carrying a chilled bottle of champagne along with a smaller bottle of sparkling apple cider. Hattie produced a tray of half a dozen champagne glasses.

“We have an announcement,” Jack said, holding out his hand to Katie, then drawing her to her feet. He put his arm around her and gazed lovingly into her big blue eyes.

Shane turned to grin at Nora. He practically vibrated with happiness. “They’re gettin’ married,” he said in a not-so-subtle whisper.

All the adults, except for Nora, laughed. It’s not that she was unhappy…exactly…she just wasn’t sure what she felt.

“That’s right,” Jack confirmed. “Katie has done me the honor of agreeing to be my wife. Shane will be my son.”

The boy pushed off Nora and flew to Jack’s side. Nora watched as her brother scooped Shane up in his arms and held him close. Hattie wrestled with the champagne bottle until Stephen rescued her and expertly popped the cork.

“The best part of this is I get a new house,” Hattie said, holding out the tray so Stephen could fill everyone’s glass. Katie served the sparkling cider to her son.

“They’re going to live in this house,” her mother continued, “while I have a charming new place built for myself.”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Nora said, still not sure what she should make of the situation.

She stared at her brother and his fiancée who were gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes. Married? To a Fitzgerald? Jack couldn’t possibly. Nora sighed. Of course he could. She’d seen how the two of them looked at each other. Katie and Jack made each other very happy. They would be crazy to walk away from the opportunity.

Nora scrambled to her feet and took the champagne Hattie offered, then raised her glass as Stephen proposed a toast to the lucky couple. The sparkling liquid bubbled on her tongue, but she couldn’t actually taste the sweetness.

“Are you all right with this?” Stephen asked as he moved next to her. “You look like you’re in shock.”

Normally she would have told him to mind his own business, or offered some other kind of witty comeback, but her mind was still absorbing the news.

“I’m fine,” she said slowly. “I’m surprised, although I guess I shouldn’t be. Katie’s been staying on the ranch for several weeks now and it’s been obvious that they care about each other.”

“So you don’t mind your brother getting married?”

She stared at the man in front of her. For once she was able to ignore the heat flaring through her body and the fact that she knew exactly how he would touch and kiss her if they ever made love.

“I’m not a shrew,” she told him. “I want Jack to be happy. He deserves this. Katie is very nice. I know she’s good for him, and Shane is a treasure.”

“But she’s a Fitzgerald.”

“We can’t all be perfect.”

Stephen smiled then. A slow, male smile that made her aware that if he stepped just a little closer he could touch her bare arms and maybe even kiss her. Her breath caught as she imagined what it would be like to feel his skin on hers for real, and not just in her dreams.

Her mouth went dry at the thought. Her legs quivered slightly and there was a definite warmth flowing out from her belly.

“Nora?”

She turned at the sound of her name and saw Katie standing next to her. Petite, blond Katie wearing a pretty blue dress and looking like a perfect china doll. Nora sighed. She was tall. She would always be tall. Sometimes she even enjoyed being tall. If only there weren’t so many short people around.

“I’m happy for you,” Nora said quickly. “I mean that. I’m not a mean person, just crabby on occasion.”

Katie gave her a grateful smile. “I know there have been some problems between our two families.”

“Yeah. A hundred-plus years of feuding.”

“I don’t want it to be like that anymore.” Katie’s expression turned earnest. “I want us to be friends.”

Nora swallowed and was a little surprised to find she wanted that, too. As if her family wasn’t big enough already. “That sounds good,” she murmured, then had to clear her throat.