Healing Dr. Fortune (10 page)

Not for food, anyway.

In the background, Michael Bublé sang “Baby, you've got what it takes.” And Jeremy had to admit, that when it came to Kirsten, the lyrics were spot-on.

He ran the knuckles of one hand along her cheek, amazed at the softness of her skin.

As his hormones rushed and his pulse rate spiked, he had half a notion to scoop her up in his arms and carry her to the bed, but he wasn't going to rush it. They had all night long.

He took hold of her hand. “Dance with me.”

Her eyes glimmered as he led her back into the room and took her in his arms. As they swayed to the music, as their hearts beat as one, Jeremy wondered if he'd ever want to make love to a woman more than he did with this one.

When the music ended, he kissed her—slow and seductively. He took his time, exploring her mouth with
his tongue, and her body with his hands. As she leaned into him, as her hands ran along his back to his butt and up again, he wanted to feel the length of her against him—skin to skin.

But with dinner coming, he wouldn't risk it. When they made love, he didn't want any interruptions.

Moments later—or maybe it had been an hour, since time seemed to be standing still when he was with her—a knock sounded at the door.

“Room service,” he said.

“Are you hungry?” she asked.

“Only for you.” The truth of that hung in the pheromone-charged air as he let the bellman in and tipped him for his service.

Minutes later, they were alone again.

A small, linen-draped table, which had been adorned with a single red rose and a sprig of baby's breath, had been set up on the balcony, providing a romantic ambiance, complete with a view of the city.

It was a bit chilly tonight, Jeremy thought, as he lifted the bottle of merlot and filled their glasses. Then, he raised his in a toast. “Happy Valentine's Day, Kirsten.”

“Thank you for going out of your way to make it special.” She offered him a smile. “It's definitely going to be a memorable one for me.”

He hoped so, because he was going to do everything he could to make sure that it was.

He clinked his glass against hers.

They'd barely had a sip of merlot, when he noticed Kirsten stroking the tops of her arms.

He'd been right; it
was
too cold for her.

“Here, take this.” He slipped off his black sports jacket and gave it to her.

“What about you?” she asked.

“I'll be fine.” In fact, kissing her earlier had shot a blast of heat through his bloodstream, so he wasn't the least bit cold.

He was, however, ready to zip through dinner and get to something a whole lot more memorable than food.

 

Kirsten didn't know when she'd had a nicer meal—or better company. Everything about this evening—other than the chill in the air—was perfect. But even then, bundled up in Jeremy's jacket and breathing his scent that lingered on the fabric, she had no reason to complain.

When they finished eating, Jeremy pushed the table into the bedroom area and out into the hall. Then he picked up the phone and asked someone to take it away.

Kirsten, who was still barefoot, removed his jacket and hung it in the closet.

“How about another dance?” he said, reaching out his hand to her.

She couldn't think of anything she'd like better.

Scratch that. She could think of
one
other thing, but she had a feeling that would soon follow.

As she slipped back into his embrace, the music playing softly in the background, she placed her hand on his chest, felt the steady beat of his heart.

Wrapped in Jeremy's arms, surrounded by his warmth
and his strength, she felt a security she'd never known before. And a realization she hadn't been ready for.

She was falling mindlessly in love with Jeremy, risking possible heartbreak in the future. And all she could do was hope he was feeling the same way about her.

They continued to sway to the romantic beat, dancing cheek to cheek and heart to heart, until Jeremy slowly drew them to a stop.

When Kirsten looked up and caught the intensity in his gaze, her pulse spiked with desire and an ache settled deep in her feminine core.

She wasn't a virgin, but she wasn't all that experienced in the ways of lovemaking, either. Yet something told her it didn't matter. That either way, she would never feel this way about another man again, never want one so badly.

Empowered by absolute love and pure passion, she placed her hand on Jeremy's cheek and pulled his mouth to hers.

Their lips came together as if their last kiss had never ended, as if they'd merely put it on hold. Yet this time, they kissed with a hungry desperation.

Their tongues mated, his breaths became hers, and Kirsten finally knew what it meant for two to become one.

Unable to get enough of him, she threaded her fingers through his hair and held him tight.

His hands explored her body, running the length of her torso—over, under, around. As he cupped her breast, kneading it slowly, his thumb skimmed across her nipple
and she feared that she would collapse in a heated pool at his feet.

Finally, he reached for the zipper at the back of her dress. She stopped kissing him long enough to say, “Good idea,” and to help him peel off the fabric.

Before long, they were both undressed, aroused and ready.

She skimmed her fingers down his muscular chest, taking time to flick his nipples to see if they were as sensitive as hers. She had her answer when he flinched, then clamped his hand over hers—holding her captive, it seemed.

“You're making me crazy,” he said.

She smiled. “In a good way, I hope.”

“In a
very
good way.”

After throwing back the covers on the bed, he scooped her into his arms and deposited her on the mattress, where he joined her. Within a heartbeat, they'd both taken up right where they'd left off.

As he tongued the soft spot under her ear, then trailed wet kisses down her throat, her breath caught, which only seemed to urge him on.

He suckled her nipples, first one and then the other, until she feared she would cry out in need.

His kisses were magic, and so was his touch. But she'd had all the foreplay she could handle without coming apart at the seams.

“I want you inside me,” she said, her breathing laden with desire.
“Now.”

He seemed only too happy to oblige, as he lifted up
and hovered over her, preparing to complete what they'd started, what they both wanted.

She opened for him, placing her hands over the curve of his buttocks, stroking and caressing while guiding him right where she wanted him, where she needed him to be.

He pushed inside her, and she arched to meet him halfway. Her body responded to his, taking and giving, as he pumped in and out. Their pleasure built, multiplying a hundredfold. And when she reached a peak so high she thought she might touch the moon and the stars, her body began to contract.

She cried out with pleasure, just as he shuddered and released, spilling into her.

For a moment, she realized they hadn't used protection—which really ought to shake her up. But for some reason, she wasn't all that concerned.

She loved Jeremy. And she'd like nothing better than to be his wife and to have his baby.

There was, however, one thing she really ought to be afraid of. And that was his return to California.

Please,
she prayed silently,
don't let him leave Red Rock.

Not unless he plans to take me with him.

T
alk about passion and chemistry.

Kirsten and Jeremy had been so caught up in the heat of the moment that they'd neglected to open the box of condoms he'd brought along.

“Damn,” he'd uttered, when he'd first realized what had happened. “I can't believe this. I never take risks like that.”

At first, she'd been a little uneasy about his reaction, but when he asked her to forgive him for the slip-up, she relaxed, thinking he'd been concerned about her worries as much as his own.

“It's not any more your fault than mine,” she'd said, counting the days in her head and trying to convince herself that it had been a safe time of the month.

Of course, that didn't always mean anything.

An unplanned pregnancy certainly would be inconvenient, she decided, but not the end of the world—to her, anyway. She wasn't sure how he'd take it, though.

They'd gone on to make love several more times that night, relishing every delicious moment, but they'd used precaution from then on.

She finally fell asleep around two, wrapped in Jeremy's arms and completely sated from their lovemaking.

Yet sometime before dawn, a baby cried.

Footsteps sounded, heavy and hurried.

Dark shadows swept over the Portacrib, cold and breezy.

Heartbeats thumped, loud enough to shake the room.

More footsteps.

Another cry.

Anthony.
Someone grabbed him and ran, disappearing with him in the eerie dark shadows.

Kirsten chased after them as hard and as fast as she could, but her feet moved like tree trunks rooted deeply into the ground. She tried to scream for help, but the words only gurgled in her throat.

Oh, my God. The baby!

She shot up in bed, eyes wide, heart thumping. Her breathing was ragged, as if she'd truly been running for all she was worth.

But in a desperate attempt to make sense of it all, she scanned the darkened hotel room, listening for a cry. But she heard only the soft sounds of breathing, saw nothing
other than the naked man stretched out on the bed beside her, a sheet draped over his waist.

It had only been a dream.

No, she decided. Not a dream, but a nightmare in which someone had snatched Anthony.

A cold chill ran down her spine, striking fear through every cell of her body.

Could it have been a vision from the past?

A premonition of what was to come?

An omen, maybe, that told her Anthony wouldn't be safe unless she was around to protect him?

She combed her fingers through the tangled strands of her hair. As much as she would like to wake Jeremy, to ask him to hold her until the scary thoughts subsided, until her heart stopped racing and her breathing slowed back to normal, she couldn't bring herself to do it.

Not without dragging him into all the Courtney drama. Families like the Fortunes didn't have things like that to deal with.

So she carefully slid out from under the covers, trying not to jostle the mattress and wake Jeremy. Then she climbed from bed and walked softly to the dressing area, where she'd spotted two white bathrobes earlier. Choosing one, she slipped it on, then went into the living room and took a seat on the sofa.

She wasn't sure how long she sat there, twenty minutes or so, when she heard the bedding rustle and the mattress squeak.

Jeremy was stirring.

“Kirsten?” he called out.

“I'm in here.”

He got out of bed, crossed the room and joined her in the living area. The sun was just starting to rise, and as it peered through the window, she could make out her lover's naked form.

His hair was tousled, his brow furrowed.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“I'm fine,” she lied.

Something sparked in his eyes, an emotion too difficult for her to read—compassion? Worry?

“Are you having second thoughts about what we did?” he asked.

“No, it's not that.”

He took a seat beside her. “Are you worried because we didn't use a condom that first time?”

She placed her hand on his knee, felt his warmth, his strength. “It was careless of us. But no, I'm not stressed about it.”

“Are you sure?”

The man had good instincts and had clearly picked up on whatever vibes she was giving out.

“A pregnancy wouldn't be very convenient,” she admitted. “But I think we're safe. And if not, then I'll deal with it.”

He placed his hand over hers, as it rested on his knee.

“But you won't deal with it alone. We're in it together.”

His words and their meaning soothed something deep inside her, easing the fear she'd felt earlier.

They were a team now, it seemed. And she relished
the possibility of having someone on her side, in her corner.

And not just anyone. Jeremy Fortune was a man to be admired. And she was lucky to have met him—and to have caught his interest.

“Thanks.” She'd been on her own for so long that she'd forgotten how good it felt to have someone's support. “I appreciate that.”

“Is there something I can do to help?” he asked.

He clearly knew she was upset about something, and while she didn't want to tell him exactly what it was, she supposed she had to say something.

But what? She wasn't even sure what was really bothering her.

Finally she said, “Do you believe in premonitions?”

He was quiet for a moment. “I don't know. I never have in the past. But a while back, I had a dream that seemed incredibly real. And it…well, it might have been a premonition of some kind. A good one, though. Why?”

“What did you dream about?” she asked. “Do you mind telling me about it?”

He didn't respond right away, and she wondered why. Was he afraid to share it with her? Even after the intimacy they'd shared last night?

Was he holding back to protect himself, just as she was?

“Let's just say it had something to do with the future,” he said. “I'm not sure what it meant, if anything, but it seems to be coming true.”

Her tummy knotted, and she felt the bile rise
to her throat. So he
did
have reason to believe in premonitions.

“Did you have a dream, too?” he asked.

She nodded. “But it wasn't a good one. I'm worried about Anthony.”

“Are you afraid Max won't take care of him?”

“No, it's not that. Max is really good with him.”

He stroked the top of her hand. “Then what are you worried about?”

“I don't know. It's just a vibe, I guess. A bad one. And I can't explain it.” She turned to him, hopeful, willing to let him convince her that everything would be okay.

 

Jeremy didn't like seeing Kirsten so upset. And since she'd obviously had a nightmare of some kind, he was sorry that he'd even mentioned his own dream to her, the one about the woman on the porch holding a baby.

The woman who looked a lot like Kirsten.

To be honest, he wasn't even sure if she actually resembled the dream woman or not. Maybe he'd just wanted her to. Maybe it was a matter of attraction at first sight combined with a little self-fulfilling prophecy.

Who knew for sure? But he had to admit that he'd begun to feel something for her, something he imagined love might feel like.

Either way, he wasn't quite sure what it was or what to do about it. All he knew was that he hated to see her upset, and that he would do whatever he could to make her feel better.

“I really don't believe in premonitions,” he said, which
was the truth, no matter how much stock he wanted to take in the dream he'd had about her. “I'm sure you just had a run-of-the-mill nightmare. There's nothing to worry about.”

She didn't respond, yet she kept her hand on his knee, clinging to him, it seemed. And he was glad he could be there for her, but he wanted her to come back to bed, where he could kiss away the goblins and bogeymen.

“Are you sure you don't want to talk about it?” he asked.

“No. I'd rather not. It's just that…well, that poor little baby is so vulnerable right now. And he doesn't have anyone but me.” She combed her fingers through her hair, then realized that wasn't exactly true. “Okay. So he's got Max, too.”

“It sounds to me as if you're bonding with him,”

Jeremy said.

She glanced up and released a wistful grin. “Yes, I guess I am. Maybe it's just some weird maternal instinct I hadn't realized I had.”

If things developed between them, if they decided to have kids of their own someday, he liked knowing that she had those instincts, that she'd be a good mother.

She blew out a sigh. “I hate feeling like this. No one told me how stressful parenthood could be.”

He smiled and slipped an arm around her, drawing her against him, holding her close. Then he placed a kiss on the side of her head. “I'm sure you're right. My mom used to make it look like a breeze, but raising five kids
had to be tough. I know my brothers and I didn't make it easy on her.”

She continued to rest against him, making him feel like some kind of a hero when he really hadn't done anything.

“There were five kids in your family?” she asked.

“Yep. All boys.”

He could feel the tension ease in her shoulders, which must be proof that he was doing something right. And that was a relief. He'd been in uncharted emotional waters ever since he'd met her.

“I wish I could have been part of a large family,” she said. “It was always just me, my brother and our mom.”

“A big family is nice if you're willing to take the good with the bad.”

“What do you mean?”

“My brothers and I didn't always get along, and we had our share of bloody noses, black eyes and broken bones. But we were—and still are—very close. I wouldn't trade them or my childhood for anything.”

They sat like that for a while, caught up in their thoughts, in their memories. In the emotion their lovemaking had stirred within them.

Then, as the sun began to rise higher in the sky, lighting the room, he realized that they wouldn't be going back to bed anytime soon.

“How about some coffee?” he asked. “I can call room service and ask them to bring up a carafe.”

“Actually, that sounds good.” She sat up straight,
which allowed him to reach for the telephone on the lamp table.

He ordered the continental breakfast: coffee, orange juice, fresh fruit and an assortment of toast and muffins.

When the line disconnected, he said, “Why don't you take the first shower. It might make you feel better.”

“Actually,
you
made me feel better.” She tossed him a smile that didn't quite light her eyes. “But I think I'll take you up on that.”

Then she stood and walked to the bathroom.

He had a feeling that the nightmare was still eating at her, but he wasn't sure what else to do about it—other than suggest that they face the day head-on. So, while she was in the shower, he opened the blinds and took the time to watch dawn stretch over San Antonio.

A few minutes later, a knock sounded at the door. After slipping on the remaining robe, Jeremy answered.

“Where should I put this?” the bellman asked.

Jeremy nodded toward the coffee table in the living area. “Right over there.”

While their meal was set up, Jeremy reached into his wallet and pulled out a couple bills to give the man, even though the gratuity had already been added into the tab.

“Can I get you anything else?” the man asked.

“No, thank you. This will be fine.” After Jeremy signed the slip, the man left.

Rather than wait for Kirsten to come out of the shower, he poured a cup of coffee for himself.

Moments later, the bathroom door opened and she stepped out. Even with her wet hair wrapped in a towel turban, she looked like a million bucks.

His
million bucks. He had a feeling he'd really struck pay dirt when he met her.

“Coffee?” he asked, as she joined him.

“Please.” Kirsten took the cup Jeremy offered her, then added a splash of cream and sweetener before sitting next to him on the sofa.

The shower had done wonders.

And so had Jeremy.

Would another lover have been so thoughtful, so caring? So sweet?

She doubted it. So why was she apprehensive about sharing the uglier shades of her life with him?

There was no reason to feel that way. So she leveled with him and told him some of what Max had been going through with Courtney.

Jeremy didn't say anything right away. Finally, he set his cup on the table. “I find the whole story a little weird. Don't you?”

Weird?

Another sense of uneasiness washed over her, as she regretted airing her dirty laundry.

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Your brother hadn't seen the woman in seven months, and she shows up at his door with a baby he didn't know he had. And according to you, he even questions whether he's the father.”

Her tummy knotted. “I know he should have a
paternity test to answer that question, but I think it was admirable of him to take the baby.”

“Yes, I can see why you might. But it's not clear if he has legal custody. What if there's a medical emergency?”

She supposed it was only natural that a physician would consider that. “I'm not sure what we'd do. I haven't thought that far yet. But little Anthony is a lot better off with Max than he is with Courtney.”

“But he might not be Max's child.”

She realized that. However, a parent didn't have to be related to a child by blood to offer it love and a happy home. “Maybe Max can become a foster parent or something.” Anything that would allow him to keep the baby and not give him up to Courtney.

What kind of mother dropped off her child and never looked back?