Doctor For Keeps

He fumbled with his fly for what seemed an interminable amount of time. God, he hadn’t been this unsure since he was sixteen and in the throes of raging hormones. Nor had he experienced such a physical rush. A desperate, impatient need that threatened his practiced control. He had learned to use his hands with calm efficiency, but right now he couldn’t even tackle the damned zipper.

Randi continued to study him with wild-eyed wonder, seeming unfazed by the delay. He wished he could say the same for himself.

Once he finally undid his fly, he snaked out of his slacks and tossed them across the room along with his misgivings. He sat beside Miranda on the bed and plied her with whisper kisses before lying back with her in his arms. He shifted until they were lying face-to-face, body to body.

Raising up on a bent elbow, he watched her expression melt into pure desire as he nudged her hair aside and drew lazy circles around her breasts through the silk. He slowly lifted the camisole.

“You’re perfect,” he said as he feathered his thumb across the beaded tip of one flawless breast.

She rolled to her back and stared at the ceiling. “No, I’m not.”

Rick noted the pain in her tone and wondered what jerk had crushed her sense of self-worth. Probably some idiot who preferred more than a mouthful to boost his over-inflated ego. He was determined to convince her otherwise.

He moved above her and said, “Yes, you are,” then placed a kiss between her breasts before drawing one peak between his lips.

She arched her back, thrusting her chest forward, and released a pleasured moan. Rick ached with the all-consuming need to be inside her, but he was determined to take it slow.

He raised his head and found her lips again, relishing the feel of the dampness on her breast where his mouth had been. Brushing his knuckles back and forth against her lower belly, he again found the band at her hips. In one smooth move, he slipped his hand underneath the lace, tamping down the urge to rip the scrap of material away.

Rick broke the kiss and watched her face to gauge her reaction. She kept her eyes closed and her lips parted, drawing in a quick gasp when he delved into her feminine folds and found her center with the pad of his thumb.

“You feel good,” he whispered as he stroked her flesh, centering on the soft bud that blossomed beneath his fingertip. “You’re perfect here, too.”

Randi made a small sound in her throat that carried him to the brink of losing control. He kissed her temple, her cheek, her lips, as he quickened his touch.

“Rick…” His name rode out on a gasp, and her bottom lip trembled. She grasped the folds of the comforter and writhed beneath his ardent touch.

He brought his lips to her ear and whispered words of encouragement. “It’s okay, Randi. Just let go for me. Let go.”

She tilted her head back and released a soft cry. Her whole body shook against his side.

Rick stilled, surprised by the fact that she had gone over the edge after only a few touches. Either this angel was a lot hotter than he imagined, or as innocent as he had first assumed.

His conscience wouldn’t let him believe the latter.

Randi grabbed his shoulders and tried to pull him to her. “Easy, querida,” he said, trying to gentle her with soft kisses.

“I need you.” The desperation in her voice drove him wild. He was tempted to answer her plea right then, but he couldn’t. Not yet. Not until he saw to his responsibility.

“I need you, too,” he said. “But there’s something I have to do first.”

It occurred to him that he hadn’t even thought to bring protection. His work hadn’t afforded him much of a social—much less sexual—life of late. Luckily, he remembered seeing a box of condoms in the medicine cabinet. Good old Mark had come through for him again, and he didn’t even know it. Nor would he.

Rick stood, stripped out of his briefs, and headed toward the bathroom. “I’ve got to get a condom. I’ll be right back. Don’t go anywhere.”

Miranda couldn’t have left, even if she’d wanted to. Her whole body had melted into a pool of molten heat. As a nurse, she certainly wasn’t ignorant in the ways of male and female lovemaking. But as a woman, she could never have imagined Rick’s abilities. And better still, he was concerned with safe sex, something she could more than appreciate. Something she should have considered. But he had stripped her of all common sense when he’d stripped away her clothes. She had only considered the way he made her feel, like a truly sexual being for the first time in her life.

She tossed the comforter aside and worked her way underneath the cool sheets. Now that she was thinking more clearly, she had a decision to make.

Not that she wasn’t willing to continue. She yearned for the whole experience, everything he could give her that she had only dreamed of until this moment. She couldn’t even think about stopping now. Yet she didn’t know if she should tell Rick about her inexperience or let him discover it for himself.

If she did tell him that he would be her first lover, would he choose not to follow through? If she didn’t, would he be angry?

The time to make the decision was upon her as Rick reentered the room. But her voice headed for the hills when she saw him standing before her, all dark, sexy, sinewy male.

Moonlight filtering in from the window spilled over his body, casting shadows that enhanced masculine planes and lean muscle. A gold chain sporting a small pendant hung to his sternum, a slight dusting of dark hair as its backdrop. She visually followed the progression of that hair as it traveled down his washboard belly in a silky ribbon.

Lord, he was magnificent. She’d seen her share of male anatomy during classes and clinicals, but she’d never seen anything quite like him, especially that very virile part of him that kept drawing her attention.

His sensuous smile sent a succession of pleasant chills all over her body. He threw back the covers and slipped into bed beside her, gazing at her as if she were priceless. She knew in that moment he deserved the truth.

He tried to kiss her again but she turned her head to one side. His lips landed on her cheek. With gentle fingertips, he turned her face back toward him. “Do you want me to stop?”

“No. Definitely not. There’s just something I need to say. I want you to know that I don’t usually do this. In fact, I—”

“It’s okay. I know.” He ran his tongue over the seam of her lips. “You don’t have to say anything, Miranda. Just feel.”

The way he said her name brought her senses to life as his sultry song had earlier that evening, potent as any aphrodisiac, robbing her of the need to confess.

He came to his knees before her and tore open a foil package. She watched in fascination as he rolled the condom on, then slipped her panties down and tossed them aside.

This is it, Miranda. No turning back now.

When he reached for her camisole, she grabbed his wrist. “Don’t!” She hated the panic in her voice, but she couldn’t let him see the very thing she hid from the world. She couldn’t take it if he turned away, repulsed by the sight and feel of her damaged flesh.

He sat back on his haunches. “Why not?”

“I think it’s kind of sexy, leaving some of your clothes on.” It was the best she could do under the circumstances.

He gently brushed her hair back. “Listen, Randi, you can leave it on if you feel more comfortable. But if you’re doing this because some jerk told you that you’re inadequate, I want you to know right now that he’s dead wrong. You are beautiful, and you’re not one of those women whose beauty ends at the superficial.”

She imagined he’d had plenty of experience with women, but she wouldn’t let that spoil the moment. Not when he spoke to her with a sincerity that deprived her of air. Not when he studied her with a heated gaze that captured her thoughts and flung them away.

No matter how deliberate she’d been in her planning, nothing else mattered at the moment but him. Not past or present. Only now. Making love with him could never be a mistake, even if it was only this once.

She reached her arms out to him. “Rick, please. I want you so much.” Please, before you change your mind.

“I want you, too.” His voice was a husky whisper. “I do want you.”

He parted her legs and bent her knees with gentle fingertips, then moved between her thighs. She felt the first pressure as he began to enter her.

He bent and kissed her again, his tongue simulating the act of love she so desperately needed. He nuzzled her neck and whispered, “You’re so small.”

That wasn’t the half of it. And soon, very soon, he would know the truth.

When he pushed harder, she felt a slight burning and winced.

Rick froze like a statue. “Randi, are you…have you…?”

“No, I haven’t.” She turned her eyes away from his scrutiny.

He dropped his forehead against her shoulder. “Damn.”

Bracing her palms on the sides of his head, she forced him to look at her so he would see how much she needed this. How much she needed him. “It’s okay.”

Even in the dim light, she glimpsed uncertainty in his eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t. Not unless you stop.”

She tilted her hips in encouragement, welcoming him into her body, opening a whole new facet of her soul. With an animal groan and one hard thrust, he filled her completely. More completely than she’d ever thought possible. He stilled against her for a long moment, giving her body time to adjust and for the discomfort to subside. He whispered his praise with erotic, sensual words, some phrases spoken in a language Miranda didn’t understand. Spanish, she decided. Lyrical, erotic, enticing. Seductive and mysterious, like the man. She caught fire all over again.

Miranda shifted restlessly beneath him, wanting more, needing more, even though she feared it might be too much for her to bear—more pleasure than she could survive. He began to move inside her, as fluid as his music, using his fingertips to play her like a fine instrument above the place where they were joined. She became lost in the movement of Rick’s powerful body, delighting in the heady sensations of this lovers’ dance.

He continued to love her with care, until suddenly his thrusts grew harder and faster as he took her with him on a surreal journey. Her heart stuttered and her respiration quickened. Flashes of light flickered behind her closed lids. She registered so many sensations she couldn’t catalog them all. Random thoughts tumbled around in her brain, then disappeared altogether as she spiraled toward the same bliss she’d experienced earlier. And when she hurled headlong into welcome oblivion, a cry escaped her lips. He was with her this time, proclaiming his own release with a ragged moan.

Rick collapsed against her, his heart pounding at her breast. She cradled his head and sifted her fingers through his dark hair, delighting in the feel of his body molded to hers. A single joyful tear slipped from the corner of her eye. She thumbed it away.

So this was what it was all about, she thought. This was what she had been missing. Then again, she wondered if Fate had intervened, dictating she wait for this one night, this one moment, this one man. The feelings were so much more overwhelming than she’d expected. She had been transformed in the arms of one incredible man regardless of the fact he was a virtual stranger.

Still, she couldn’t afford to feel anything beyond physical pleasure, so she pushed aside the romantic notions and tried to see the experience for what it was. A spontaneous act. A one-night stand. Nothing more. It couldn’t be anything more. Not if she wanted to guard her heart.

Rick rolled to one side, taking her with him. When he slipped from her body, she almost cried out, No! She didn’t want to let him go just yet. She wanted to imprint the memory in her mind in case she never again experienced such bliss.

“I’m sorry,” he said regretfully. “I should have known.”

Old insecurities surfaced from a place deep within Miranda. “Was I that bad?”

That brought him up on one elbow to loom over her. “No, no. You were great. Better than great.” He touched the tip of her nose. “And I love those little sounds you make.”

After what they’d just done, Miranda thought she would never be embarrassed again. Wrong. She was thankful for the limited light, hoping he couldn’t see the hot blush raiding her cheeks over her sudden lack of inhibitions.

He rested his head back on the pillow and sighed. “If you’d told me you hadn’t been with anyone, I would’ve been more careful.”

Despite her efforts to protect her fragile emotions, the concern in his voice drew her close to his side. She nestled against him. “You couldn’t have been more careful.”

He turned his face toward her. “I didn’t intend for this to happen. But I’m glad it did.”

Miranda stroked his roughened jaw and the smooth skin above that had drawn her like a magnet all night. “I did. Not originally. But for some reason it seemed right.”

He came back to his side to face her with a worried expression. “Randi, there are a few things you need to know.”

She placed a fingertip to his lips. “I don’t expect roses and chocolates or promises, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Then what do you expect?”

“You gave me a wonderful experience, that’s all I wanted.”

“An experience I hope you’ll want to repeat. With me.”

She hadn’t planned on this. One night of pure fantasy and fantastic lovemaking would have to suffice. She couldn’t—wouldn’t—let herself want more.

Miranda focused on the glowing bedside clock to avoid his scrutiny. Almost 1:00 a.m., all the excuse she needed to end the disturbing conversation before she had to answer more questions. “It’s late. I’ve got to go.”

She came to her knees and leaned forward, fumbling around in search of her panties. A moment passed before she noticed the feather-light touch on her backside.

“Randi, what happened here?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

She scurried to the bottom of the bed and finally found her underwear thrown over the footboard. After grabbing them up, she scooted around to face the door and draped her legs over the side of the bed. She tried to steady her voice. “It’s an old injury. Skinned my hide in an accident. It happened a long time ago.”

“What kind of accident?”

She worked her panties up her hips. “A car accident. I don’t like to talk about it.”

“Okay, you don’t have to.”

Before she could stand, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her against him, her back to his front, then rimmed the shell of her ear with his tongue. “Stay with me tonight.”

She lost her train of thought along with the oxygen from her lungs. “I have to be at work by eight.”

“I have an alarm.”

So did she, and it was going off in her head. Now that she knew how it felt to be a woman, it would be oh so easy to buy into the yearning. She couldn’t let that happen. She would inevitably get hurt.

Pushing out of his arms, she worked her way back to the edge of the bed, ignoring the urge to take him up on his offer. “I can’t.”

“Why not?”

She stood and faced him, fighting the impulse to tell him everything. She wasn’t about to ruin the night with a bunch of sorry confessions. “I really need to go.”

He made no move to cover himself, just stretched out on his back with his hands stacked underneath his head and his glorious body laid out like a feast before her. “Are you sure?”

Miranda wanted to say no, she wasn’t at all sure. In fact, she wanted to ditch her shirt, get rid of the barriers, and crawl back in bed beside him. But she had already unveiled too much. Although the pitted flesh on her buttock didn’t seem to bother him, it was nothing compared to the damaged skin on her back. She wasn’t willing to stick around to find out if he could accept her flaws.

Miranda willed her eyes to stay focused on his face. “If you recall, I originally planned to have one drink, remember? It’s way past that now. I have to get some sleep. I’m afraid if I stay, that might not happen.” Her traitorous eyes immediately went to the proof of her words nestled below Rick’s belly.

His lips curled into a devilish smile. “Beautiful and observant.” He sighed and sat up. “I want to see you again.”

A thousand protests played out in her mind. A thousand reasons why that wasn’t possible. “You’ll probably change your mind tomorrow.” Even if not tomorrow, he would if he learned of her scars, those inside and out. She couldn’t trust that he would accept her, and through past experience she’d learned not to take that chance.

Rick grasped her hand and rubbed circles on her palm with a fingertip. “I won’t change my mind.” He spoke with conviction, his voice a low command.

She tried to tug her hand away. He wouldn’t let her. “I really do have to go,” she pleaded.

He raised his dark eyes to her, then gave her another memorable smile and words that would haunt her the rest of the night, if not the rest of her life. “I’ll let you go tonight, but I want to make one thing clear. This isn’t over, Randi.”

Three

This isn’t isn’t over, Randi….

“Miranda, I’m not through yet.”

Miranda’s glance shot up from her empty mug, her face hot with embarrassment. She had tried hard to focus on the clinic office manager’s break-room dissertation, but to no avail.

The woman had been giving her the particulars of the job for the past few minutes while Miranda’s thoughts drifted off like spring dandelions. She hadn’t been able to concentrate on anything but memories of the night before and the incredible passion with Rick—a man whose last name she didn’t know. Her mind was a muddled mess, but her body still hummed like a live wire when she thought about his touch. She couldn’t forget what had happened, or his parting words. She also found herself wondering if maybe she would see him again. Maybe he would understand and accept her the way she was, flawed beyond repair.

Miranda couldn’t think about that now. She had to get this over with and get on with her day. “I’m very sorry, Mary Jo. Guess I could use some more coffee. I was up late. Just all the excitement.” Excitement that had nothing to do with the new job.

“Yes, maybe you should have some more coffee. Shall I continue now?”

“Of course. Go ahead.”

Mary Jo clasped her hands before her atop the break-room table in typical schoolmarm fashion, her face as stiff as her white blouse, knee-length navy polyester skirt and neatly coifed silver hair. “As I was saying, there have been a few changes in what we originally planned for you.”

“Fine. Whatever you need me to do.”

“Your duties will be the same, but you’ll be working primarily with Dr. Jansen instead of Dr. Bridgestone.”

Miranda searched her brain, what was left of it. “I haven’t met Dr. Jansen, have I?”

“No. Out of the six, he’s the only one you haven’t met. You interviewed on a Friday, and he doesn’t work on Fridays.”

Miranda ran a shaky hand down her pink teddy-bear smock and centered her gaze on Mary Jo. “So tell me about this Dr. Jansen.”

“What would you like to know?”

One look at Mary Jo’s guarded expression and Miranda’s concern kicked in. “First of all, what’s wrong with him?”

The woman’s all-business demeanor disappeared and bright red streaked down the sides of her neck. “Nothing. He’s just a bit…”

Miranda leaned forward in the plastic chair. “Difficult?”

“Yes, I suppose you could say that.”

Oh, Lord, now she knew why they had been so eager to hire her. No one else could work with the man. “How difficult?”

“He’s a perfectionist, but I’ve been told most plastic surgeons are rather meticulous. Just the nature of the beast.”

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