The Doctor Wore Spurs (5 page)

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Authors: Leanne Banks

Tags: #The Logans: Lone Star Families

BOOK: The Doctor Wore Spurs
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"And how did you do that?" she asked, because she didn't put much stock in magic or curses.

Felicity smiled. "Lots of candles, lots of love, and a lot of risk. The trouble with Tyler is that he
says
he doesn't believe the curse, but he acts as though he believes it."

"Why do you say that?"

"He won't get serious with a woman."

"Maybe he hasn't met the right woman yet."

Felicity gave her an assessing glace. "I can hope, can't I? It will take a special woman to love Tyler the way he needs to be loved. She'll need to be strong in her own right, be able to see past his flirting."

"He's a terrible flirt," Jill said.

"Yes, he is, but he's very perceptive, and I can't think of a man with a bigger heart," she said. "Except Brock."

Jill wondered what it must be like to love a man as much as Felicity clearly loved Brock. It seemed a scary yet brave prospect. She thought she had loved her husband, but not with the power Felicity emanated. Glancing back at the picture of Tyler's mother, she looked at the lively, gentle eyes and felt something inside her shift. She felt a kinship with the woman who had lost her life while giving life. Jill would have done the same for her baby, but hadn't been given the option.

Jill wondered what Tyler had been like as a child, how he had dealt with such a great loss and the lack of approval and support from his father. She wondered what was behind the flirt.

Tyler felt Jill's gaze on him throughout the dinner meal. He was accustomed to female attention. He flirted with women, and women flirted back. At times they initiated; at times they seduced.

Most, however, didn't gaze at him as if they wanted to see beneath his skin, into his brain, maybe into his heart. Tyler had always been led to believe he had enough going for him on the outside that they didn't bother to take the trouble to look inside. That was fine because seeing deeper would have brought more trouble than he wanted.

Normally Jill's intense attention would have worked for him in a big way. There was a slight edge of sensuality in her gaze, but mostly there was curiosity. Deeper curiosity. Uh-oh, he thought, then grinned to himself. Maybe he could distract her. Distraction had always worked before.

"Let me show you our horses," Tyler said. "You probably need a break from the indoor barnyard."

"Indoor barnyard?" Tyler's older brother, Brock, said with a lifted eyebrow. "Were you speaking of your usual bull?"

Tyler gave a long-suffering sigh and walked to Jill's side. "You can't get off the subject of cattle."

"Sure I can. Especially when the woman in my life insists on serving chicken for dinner."

Felicity put her hand over Brock's and gave a softly amused smile. "You didn't enjoy your meal, sweetheart?"

"No. I enjoyed it, but I'm president of the local chapter of the Cattlemen's Association."

"Your secret is safe with us," Felicity said.

"Let's get while the getting's good," Tyler whispered to Jill. "The great vegetarian debate will begin any minute."

Jill stood. "Thank you for dinner. It was delicious," she murmured.

"Anytime, Jill," Brock said. "And maybe next time we'll have calf fries for you."

Felicity grimaced. "With vegetarian chili."

Tyler tugged Jill out the door. "Told you so."

"Who will win the argument?"

"Neither or both." He pushed open the screen door and led her down the steps. "Depends on your point of view. Nice night."

"What does that mean?"

"They'll settle the argument by making love."

Jill paused, then chuckled. "Oh. And calf fries?"

"Fried calf testicles," he told her, guiding her down the driveway toward the barn.

She gaped at him. "You don't really eat them."

"They're considered a delicacy."

"By the Cattlemen's Association," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Probably," he said. "I'd be just as happy with a pizza, but don't tell my brother."

"Ah," she said with a mysterious smile, "one of your secrets."

He slid his hand underneath the hair of her nape. "I didn't notice this dress mixed in with your jeans and girlie things."

"You seemed to be more interested in the girlie things," Jill said wryly.

He looked into her eyes and felt an odd tug inside him. "I like the way your eyes shine in the moonlight."

Her lids slid downward, hiding her eyes from him. "Tyler," she said in a husky, sexy voice that felt like a stroke over key erogenous zones.

He dipped his head.

She glanced up, her gaze direct and honest. "It's a beautiful evening. Don't ruin it by giving me a bunch of lines."

He gave a self-deprecating chuckle and shook his head. "You're a hard woman, Jill. C'mon and meet my ponies."

He led her into the cool barn and introduced the horses one by one. Ladies first, then the boys. He noticed the way she mimicked his touch on the horses. "This is the gelding I told you about. Eddie boy here is as gentle and loyal as a dog."

Jill stroked his coat and met his gaze. "I've heard riding a gelding is preferable to riding a stallion."

"Depends on the kind of ride you want," he said. "Most people probably prefer a gelding. If you were dressed differently we could find out. Not that I mind your dress. You've got great legs."

"No lines," she began, lifting her finger.

He closed his hand around her slim finger and met her doubtful gaze. "No line. Deal with it, Jill. You've got great legs."

Glancing down, he noticed her sandal strap was twisted. He knelt down and untwisted it.

"What are you—"

He wrapped his hand around her ankle and rubbed his thumb over her smooth skin. "You have small ankles. Do you work out?"

He watched her swallow. "I run sometimes."

"It shows," he said, skimming his hand up her calf, behind her knee to the inside of her thigh. She stopped his wandering hand.

He met her gaze. "Does it bother you for me to touch you?"

"It's distracting," she said, her gaze smoky. "But you know that. I know you're a flirt, you've succeeded in arousing—" her lips lifting in a feminine smile that tugged at his loins, she urged him to stand and rested her hand on his chest "—my curiosity. I want to know what's behind the flirt."

Five
Her directness aroused him at the same time his gut tightened into a knot. "What makes you think I'm more than a flirt?"

"Woman's intuition," she said. "So tell me what made you go into medicine."

"I guess this means you won't go for the 'babes love it' response."

She shook her head and shot him a chiding glance. "I want the truth, the real reason."

Tyler had an itchy feeling about this woman. At the moment he wasn't sure if that was good or bad. He only knew he liked the way her hand felt on his chest and the way her eyes were fastened on him as if he were the only man in the world.

"I wanted to make a difference," he said. "I loved growing up on a ranch, but I always knew I would need to do something different. I clicked with medicine, and my specialty was something that makes a huge improvement in the quality of life of my patients. It's like taking somebody from darkness to light. I can't imagine anything more rewarding. I think my mother sensed I wouldn't be a rancher even when I was young, but my dad never accepted it."

"He never wanted to say, 'my son the doctor.'"

Tyler shook his head and grinned. "He would have preferred a large-animal veterinarian."

"How did you get past his lack of approval?"

He gave a wry chuckle, but felt his smile fade. "I never have. I keep waiting for him to come back and say 'You did good, son.'"

She started to remove her palm from his chest, but he covered her hand with his. "I want to make love to you."

Jill's eyes widened, and he watched her throat work to swallow.

"Not flirting," he said before she could protest. He skimmed his finger up her throat. "I'm stating a desire." He hesitated briefly, mentally rebelling at his second thought, then shrugged off the debate. "Maybe more than a desire. Maybe a need," he said, and watched her eyes grow even wider. He grinned despite his arousal. "You're not surprised."

"Need
is a strong word."

He nodded, skimming his finger down her throat to her collarbone. "
Want
isn't strong enough."

She swallowed again, and he felt himself sweat with the need to take her lips. "Why me?" she asked.

"Because I have this gut feeling about you that you are either going to be very good for me. Or very bad." He lowered his head. "Either way, I want to find out."

He pressed his mouth against hers and gently tugged at her lower lip. Catching her nearly inaudible moan, he deepened the kiss and pulled her against him. It felt to him as if her body had been designed to mesh with his. Her breasts rubbed against his chest, her abdomen slid against his. Lower still, he wanted to rock between her creamy thighs. She wore a dress, but no stockings, just a pair of those silk, French-cut panties he held in his hand earlier.

He skimmed his hand down to her bottom and drew her dress upward until his fingers encountered her bare flesh. He squeezed her bottom and ground her against the part of him that swelled with need for her.

Clinging to his shirt, she strained against him, wrapping her tongue around his and gently sucking, echoing the movements of his pelvis. Then, making a sound of frustrated desire, she turned her head away from his and gasped for air.

"I'm not sure this is a good idea." She stepped away from him.

Tyler asked the first thing that came to mind. "Do you not like sex?"

She stared at him in shock. "I like sex," she finally managed. "I just haven't been in the mood for a while."

"How long a while?"

Jill winced self-consciously. "Do we really need to discuss this?"

"I'd say so. A few more minutes and I would have been inside you, and don't deny you weren't wanting it, too."

She covered her eyes with her hand. "I'm not denying it," she confessed in a low voice.

"Then how long have you not been in a mood?"

She shot him a look of irritation. "Since my marriage was over."

Now it was his turn to be surprised. "That long? Hell, was he that good in bed?"

Jill sighed. "No. It was just the way it ended. He left three months after I got out of the hospital. I hadn't fully recovered from the accident and—"

Tyler lifted his hands. "Whoa! Hospital? What accident?"

"I was in an automobile accident. A truck hit me head-on. I broke some bones, lost some blood and—" She broke off, flinching.

"And?" he prompted.

Not meeting his gaze, she took a slow breath. "I broke some bones, lost some blood and lost my baby."

Tyler felt as if he'd been punched. "Baby," he said, not knowing what to say. "How far along?"

"Seven months," she said in a voice devoid of hope.

"Viable. They couldn't save—"

"Him," she said. "They couldn't save him. He lost too much blood. His lungs were filled with fluid. It was a terrible accident. They said I could have died, too."

And, Tyler heard by the pain in her voice, there had been moments she'd wished she had died. He felt his chest tighten. He couldn't not hold her. As he pulled her into his arms, he said, "That's why babies make you cry."

She nodded against his shoulder.

"How could your husband leave you?" he demanded in disgust.

"He couldn't handle it. Some people can't." She paused. "I almost couldn't."

His mind racing, he held her tightly. "This is part of the reason you came to Fort Worth, isn't it?"

"Yes, to face my Waterloo and move on." She looked up at him and gave a small but brave smile. "You dared me."

His heart turned over. He'd had no idea what he'd been asking of her. Now he was struck with the overwhelming urge to fix it, to heal her. Now. "I dare you to make love with me."

Her eyes widened, then she closed them and shook her head, chuckling. "I don't believe you. I tell you I lost a baby and you want to have sex?"

"You underestimate the power of making love," he corrected her, wanting to hold her and make her pain go away. "It's healing, life giving. I can do that for you."

She gave him a sideways glance, but her smile made him feel as if he'd just invented a new surgical procedure.

"A heart doctor," she said. "You're not talking about touching my heart. You're talking about touching—" her color rose "—other places."

He lifted his hand to her cheek. "I'm talking about touching everything, Jill. Everything."

Sparks of passion and wariness glinted in her eyes. "No," she finally said softly.

"You don't want me?"

Her breath hitched in her throat. "I didn't say that," she said.

Realization hit him. "Then you're chicken," he murmured, surprised.

She pulled away from him. "I'm not chicken. No one has ever called me chicken. Just because I have the good sense not to hit the sack with Dr. Romeo does not make me a chicken."

"Cluck, cluck," he said. "And you know that Romeo reputation stuff is a bunch of bull. Besides," he said, goading her, "we don't have to hit the sack. There are other ways."

Her cheeks lit with color again. "You were much easier to deal with when I thought you were a superficial flirt."

"You never thought I was just a superficial flirt, or you wouldn't have taken my dare. You always knew there was more to me," he said, then added under his breath, "as much as I conceal it. I think you knew I was going to be important to you, the same way I think you're going to be important to me."

"What about the curse?"

Tyler's eye twitched. "What curse?"

"The Logan Curse."

"I don't believe in it," he said. "It doesn't apply to us because neither of us wants to get married."

"Why don't you?" she asked, her curious eyes making him uncomfortable.

"It's not necessary," he said.

"Not necessary?"

"Not necessary to tie yourself down, put your heart, soul and future into a woman. It's too much to ask of a woman. Even if they want to stick with you," he said, thinking of his mother, "sometimes they can't."

Silence stretched between them. Tyler didn't like the knowing expression on her face. "What?" he demanded, his eye twitching again. "What?"

"Two words come to mind," she said with a gentle commiserating smile. "Cluck, cluck."

"I do not believe in that stupid curse," Tyler insisted to Brock as they stood in the parlor. His eyelid began to twitch.

"Sure you don't," Brock said with the same tone of complete and utter disbelief. "That's why you never let a woman get too close. You never let them get under your skin. Except I think Jill could be different."

"Jill is different," he conceded. "But she won't get under my skin. I'm not interested in forever, and neither is she."

"Why not? Why wouldn't you want forever with the right woman?"

"Because forever rarely is forever. Forever doesn't even usually last a lifetime." Tyler shook his head. "Ever since you and Felicity finally worked it out, you've been hounding me. You must have forgotten how you almost messed everything up."

Brock's expression grew serious. "I haven't forgotten. I just don't want you to mess up the same way I did."

Tyler paused, letting his brother's statement sink in. Brock had stood up for Tyler with their father, and although Brock wasn't a father figure, Tyler loved him and respected him so much it had nearly killed Tyler when he'd had to leave the ranch to practice in Fort Worth. He hadn't wanted to disappoint him. Brock had balked, but only for a moment. Since then, he'd been all support.

Tyler hitched his thumbs in his belt loops and sighed. "Okay. What's your point?"

Brock put his hand on Tyler's shoulder. "I married the wrong woman, then found the right one, but the curse almost cost me Felicity. The curse isn't that we lose the woman. We lose the ability to see her."

Tyler grunted. That was pretty deep for Brock. This once he wouldn't verbally disagree, since he could see Brock was sincere, but he wasn't sure he bought it.

The front door flew open and Martina breezed in with a smile on her face. "Hi, boys. Surprise. I talked to Felicity yesterday and she told me Tyler was here with a
woman,
so I had to come see."

His sister, who was the spitting image of their mother, wore a loose-fitting top that almost concealed her early pregnancy.

She looked from one to the other. "Oops. You both look serious. You're either discussing cattle futures or the ongoing feud with the Coltranes?" Her voice rose the slightest bit when she mentioned the Coltranes.

"Neither," Brock said. "Although they've started another harebrained scheme for their ranch."

"Noah's going to run a fencing camp during the winter and charge a fortune. Crazy," he muttered.

"I believe it's referred to as ranch management," she said with a cheeky grin. "Have you heard anything else about him?"

"Not much since he got back from Chicago. Come to think of it, he came back soon after you did." He chuckled. "Think about it. You could have run into Noah Coltrane in Chicago, when we've successfully avoided most dealings with them all our lives."

Her smile wavered. "That would have been something, wouldn't it?" She lifted her chin. "Don't try to distract me. What dire topic were you discussing when I walked in?"

"The Logan Curse," Brock said.

"Oh," she said, waving her hand in a dismissing gesture. "I've got that covered. Have you noticed the Logan women are the ones who croak? Well," she said with a triumphant smile, "I'm never getting married. That way I cheat the curse."

Brock groaned and rubbed his face. He walked toward her and led her to the couch. "Sit down and act like a pregnant woman should. Have you been eating right?"

"Have you kept regular appointments with your doctor?"

"Yes and yes."

"Who is the father?" Brock and Tyler asked at once.

She gave them each a pained glance. "I told you the stork did it."

"We heard a lot of noise. What's going on?" Felicity asked, bringing Jill with her into the room. Felicity's face lit up. "Martina, you came!"

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