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Authors: Jennifer Greene

Millionaire M.D. (15 page)

BOOK: Millionaire M.D.
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She'd been thinking that she finally believed him—that he really did want to marry her. It wasn't a dream. It was real. All his plan-making for the baby tonight was proof. The way he treated Angel was another kind of proof, that he had strong, tender feelings for the baby and was already taking joy in being a father. But it was the two of them where she kept feeling this rain of wonder. They'd known each other so long…but until Angel had so accidentally slipped into her life, she'd had no idea that Justin had feelings for her.

Now she wondered how he'd fooled her for so long.

And how she'd fooled herself.

She closed her eyes, struggling to offer him a kind of honesty that she never had done before. “I was thinking…well, I almost don't remember my mother. But I remember the morning when I woke up and she was gone. I was pretty young—but I knew I was alone. I remember feeling abandoned, feeling that there must be something terribly wrong with me that she'd left as if I were nothing. And as much as I've wanted a child, Justin, I think I was always afraid that I wouldn't be a good mother. That that fatal flaw in me would show up. The thing that made me unlovable. And I worried that I could do that to a child.”

She watched his mouth work, as if he wanted to spill a dozen things to her. Instead he hesitated, and then he just listened. “And…?”

“And then I was watching you play with Angel. Be with her. The joy and fascination in your eyes.”

“Well, hell. There's nothing surprising there. She could win a tear from a glass eye.”

She smiled softly. “I think so, too. That's exactly how I feel with her. The joy. The fascination. No, I don't know what I'm doing. But this huge feeling of love wells up, this
bond to her that just seems bigger than I am. And I know I can be a good mom. I just know.”

“Aw, Win, I can't believe you doubted yourself this way.”

“Well, I did. It's hard to explain, but I doubted…that I could let go. I was angry when I was a kid. I think I always believed under the surface that it had to be my fault—something wrong with me—that made my mom take off. And I was afraid that something-wrong-in-me could affect my being a parent.”

“Winona. You'll be the best parent this side of the Atlantic. And this side of the Pacific, too. You already are. Hell. I didn't know you were worried about this….” He hesitated. “When you suddenly got so quiet, I thought maybe you'd found out something in the investigation of Angel's mother—and you just hadn't had a chance to tell me.”

“I'm finding out things every day. But nothing that's helped me pin down where Angel came from, at least so far.”

“Then…you're still worried about keeping her?”

“Yeah, I'm worried about that. Badly. And I'm going to keep worrying about that until we know for sure what's going to happen to her. I can't help it. Any more than I can help hoping that Angel ends up mine. Ours.” She turned in his arms. “But that's not the reason I'm saying yes to you.”

“Yes to…?”

“I never gave you a clear-cut answer, did I? I mean…you've been making marriage and living plans at the speed of sound. And I know we've come together. I know we've both used the
marriage
word. You especially. But I never came out before this and admitted that I'm in love with you, Doc. Really in love. Off the deep end in love—”

She never got a chance to finish the thought before his mouth latched on to hers. The whole evening, she'd been waiting for this. The whole evening, he'd been seducing her with candles and saxophones and his burping techniques and his blowing bubbles on the baby's tummy…and being in that
tub, naked with him, because dark or not, he had to know darn well where her eyes were straying all this time.

She made a soft sound of longing, of want, that he sipped in during another slow, lazy, liquid kiss. His warm, slippery skin rubbed against her warm, slippery skin. His tummy rubbed her tummy. Breasts snugged against his chest, where his wiry dark chest hairs glistened and the orbs of his shoulders gleamed dark gold. His long, strong legs slid and rubbed against her slim, softer limbs. He was inside her before she could catch a breath, had her legs wrapped around his waist before she'd had time to consider whether this was even possible.

“We're going to drown,” she feared.

“I already am drowning,” he said, and dived for another kiss, taking her tongue. His hands splayed, clasping her fanny, melding the two of them even closer together. Inside, she felt that secret, hot pulsing between them. On the outside, there was nothing but that womb of water, the magic of him, the stars on the water surface caused from the candlelight, the stars in her eyes caused from the look in his.

“I have no protection,” he remembered suddenly.

“Good,” she said.

Again, his mouth tipped in a slow, intimate grin. “If you think I mind if we make a baby, Win, you must be out of yours. I hope we have half a dozen. And I'm warning you now, my plan for the rest of the evening is to love you 'til the cows come home.”

“Good,” she said again.

“It'll be two nights without sleep. We'll both be basket cases tomorrow.”

“Good,” she said again.

“If you think—”

Holy moly, how the man could talk. She framed his face with her hands to pull him closer. Then flexed her thighs to wrap him closer in that way. He didn't talk any more after that. Neither did she, although, tarnation, they made a hor
rible mess. Water splashed over the marble sides, onto the floor. Once they sank under and nearly drowned. He rolled with her on top, then maneuvered her right under the pulsing hot jets where the dark, silky water pulsed intimately on both of them, never separating from her for an instant, never losing rhythm, just spinning, spinning….

Spinning a magic spell, she thought helplessly, that she never wanted to wake up from. Somewhere that night, she lost all her inhibitions. The good ones. The important ones. The inhibitions that she'd cultivated so carefully her whole life because she was so absolutely sure that she needed them to survive. With him, everything was different. With him, she felt as abandoned as she'd ever imagined….

But in the most joyful of all ways.

“I love you, Winona Raye,” he whispered, just as he hurled them both over the last crest and tipped them into ecstasy.

 

The next day, as Winona was driving to lunch with Angel propped in the car seat next to her, she suddenly laughed out loud. All morning, memories from the night before had been rolling through her mind, making her buoyant and smiley all over again…but this time, her sense of humor was sparked for another reason.

Last night, she'd finally said yes to him. In fact, Winona suddenly remembered how many times she'd given Justin an opening to set a specific marriage date. Only he hadn't.

For a man who'd been hustling her to the altar faster than the speed of light, it just struck her funny bone that he'd finally gotten what he wanted—and then forgotten to pin down the date.

Quickly Winona pulled into the one spare parking place in front of the Royal Diner, then scooped up Angel and all the baby paraphernalia it took to get the little one through a short lunch. “You know this place, now, don't you, darlin'? And today we're going to meet a friend.”

The minute they walked in, she spotted Pamela Miles, sitting in one of the front booths. “Darn it, I didn't mean to be late, Pam. I hope I didn't keep you waiting—”

“Not at all. I've just been here a minute. And what do we have here?”

Winona smiled, watched Pamela make a fuss over Angel—who hammed up for the attention, kicking and bubble-blowing. “This is Angel, and she's the reason I asked to meet with you. But let's get lunch ordered, okay? I'm guessing that you don't have any more spare time than I do.”

Sheila, cracking gum, brought her pad over to take their orders. “Hey, Pam, the bruises are starting to fade finally, huh? You look like you're doing way better, sweetie pie.”

“I'm fine, except still having a little trouble getting an appetite.”

Winona shot the second-grade teacher another, sharper, look. For a moment she'd forgotten that Pamela had hoped to be an exchange teacher in Asterland for the winter term, and had been traveling on the plane that crashed. “You really are feeling okay?” she asked.

“Fine. Honestly, compared to some of the others, I didn't go through anything. Just some bangs and bruises. Although I have to admit that I was really shook up for the first few days after the crash. It was quite an experience. I still can't seem to eat much.”

“I take it that your plans to go over there and teach were put on hold?”

“Yes. I'd still love to, but it'll have to be another time. They couldn't hold the job and leave children without a teacher, obviously, and right after the crash, I wasn't sure how fast I could get there and be functioning. It just made the most sense for both sides for me to cancel out. So I've got a little unexpected time off. It won't kill me to relax until next term—but please, Winona, I don't want to waste your lunch hour on just catching up. I know you said you needed to talk to me seriously about something.”

“Yes,” Winona said, but then she hesitated. The two women knew each other through their respective jobs. Several times, Pamela had asked her to come in and talk to her second graders, and Winona had loved the opportunity. Before that, all Winona had ever heard was that Pamela's mother had quite an unfortunate reputation in town—which was always a complete surprise to anyone first meeting Pam. She was plain, inclined to wearing dowdy Peter Pan collars and demure, concealing styles. She wore her black hair short and simple, and never seemed to bother with much makeup. Her features lit up around children, though, showing off dimples and big blue eyes. She seemed to be a quiet, genuine person in a way that Winona had always liked. She just didn't quite know how to approach this subject, but she had to start somewhere.

“I'm guessing you've heard through the gossip grapevine about Angel. Someone abandoned her on my doorstep a couple weeks ago. I've been trying to track down the mother ever since.”

“You bet, I heard. The whole town's charmed at you running around doing your cop thing with a baby in tow.”

Winona nodded. “I know you work with the younger kids, rather than be exposed much to teenagers. But I'm really having trouble finding leads to Angel's mom. I don't know for sure that her mother was a teenager—but it has to be someone from town, because if she didn't know who I was, she'd have had no reason to leave the baby with a note to me specifically. So I was hoping—”

“You were hoping I'd know something?”

“Yeah. I figured it was a long shot to ask you—but all the standard routes I've tried have ended up dead ends. Everyone says that kids all ages just naturally talk to you. So I was hoping you might have heard something about a girl in trouble….”

“Well, darn. There is someone.” Pamela tapped her fingers on the tabletop. “I'm trying to remember the woman's
name. She was at the Texas Cattleman's Club party early this month—someone said she'd lost a baby before Christmas, but at the time, that struck me as odd. You know how it is in Royal. The whole town would have turned out for a funeral, anything to help someone going through a loss like that. Only there was no funeral—” Pamela suddenly shook her head. “This is nuts. I really don't know anything. That was just vague gossip I heard at the time, and to tell you the truth, I was only paying attention to one thing at that party—”

“Uh-huh.” Because Angel started fussing, Winona picked up the baby and plugged in a bottle, although she shot a woman-to-woman grin at Pamela. “I saw you dancing with Aaron Black, girl.”

Color bloomed on Pamela's cheeks. “I felt like Cinderella at the ball—and believe me, I'm not into fairy tales. I'm not usually a party person, either. The only reason I went to that gathering was because I was planning on teaching in Asterland, and I thought I'd have a chance to meet more Asterlanders there…but I just don't belong in a group like that.”

Winona sensed the other woman's insecurity and pounced. “Hey, what's that supposed to mean?”

“Come on. You know Aaron—he looks like a fairy-tale prince. Tall and sophisticated and good-looking…”

“Well, yeah, he's a nice-looking man.” Winona knew Aaron. Everyone did. His diplomacy work took him overseas so much that he was rarely home except around the holidays, but she remembered seeing him at Justin's shindig. It was just, compared to Justin, no man seemed hot. Not anymore.

“Hmm. I saw you at that party, too, Winona. It's no wonder you didn't pay that much attention to Aaron. You only had your eyes on one guy yourself.”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“Come on. I saw you dancing with a bunch of guys. But you still only had eyes for Dr. Webb.”

Winona was so startled at Pamela's observation that she
accidentally dislodged the bottle from the baby's mouth. Was it possible, that others had noticed the chemistry between her and Justin before she'd realized it?

When Angel sputtered, she popped the bottle back in, unconsciously rocking and soothing the baby at the same time…but her mind was really spinning now. She'd always had special feelings for him. She'd also always seemed to notice things about him that others never saw—like that the playboy reputation he'd cultivated was never true, and that there was a whole emotional side to him that he never showed to the world.

Maybe she'd always felt the seeds of love, Winona mused, and maybe he had, too. But still, something had triggered his asking her to marry him in a serious way. And anxiety suddenly threaded a drumbeat in her pulse. Everything had been going so well, but she still hadn't shaken the sensation that something was wrong. Something not right in Justin's life, in his heart, that he hadn't shared with her.

BOOK: Millionaire M.D.
8.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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