Prescription: Baby

But what if it was personal, Katie? a voice niggled. Face it, she was leaving town tomorrow. And three months from now, when she returned, she’d be transferred to Dr. Nelson’s team where her expertise was needed more. If Ford did happen to be interested in something personal…

“Hey there, Jesse,” she whispered, determined to discourage her unlikely fantasies. Her expression gentled as she stripped away the protective covering around the baby’s legs. “Let’s clean you up and make you presentable for your mama. She’s so proud of you. We all are. You did good, kid.”

Katie’s eyes stung as she gazed down at the baby. For the next while, no less than if she’d been Jesse’s mama, her whole world was taken up with the small, defenseless boy on the table who needed her—and the immensely satisfying knowledge that Ford Carrington had fixed things so he’d be just fine.

SECONDS AFTER FORD opened the front door, he’d realized Katie wanted to make love with him. He’d gotten home in time to change from scrubs into slacks and a lightweight knit shirt, and he’d dimmed the house lights and put on music before meeting Katie at the door with an uncorked bottle of burgundy and two full glasses.

“Welcome, Carrot Top,” he’d said.

Looking a little lost on the wide porch, she’d shoved both hands into the back pockets of the skin-tight jeans she wore with cowboy boots and a University of Texas T-shirt that hugged her breasts. “Hey, Dr. Carrington,” she’d returned, her deep, throaty drawl sounding as soft as velvet on the warm fall night.

Hungry, his eyes had dropped over the petite, curvy frame he rarely saw outside of scrubs. Because of where she stood, fireflies on the lawn appeared to alight in her short, tight, fiery red curls. A tiny diamond chip earring flashed from the top of her ear, where, he’d decided, the piercing had to hurt. Hospital greens definitely didn’t do her justice.

“Come on in,” he’d said.

Always the tease, she’d cocked her head, as if considering. “I’m unchaperoned tonight,” she’d warned.

He’d glanced at her beat-up car. “True. But you did drive all the way over from the hospital.”

A beatific smile had suddenly brightened her face, making the freckles scattered across her cheeks and small, straight nose jump and wiggle as she stepped across the threshold. “Don’t mind if I do.”

As they’d entered the dimly lit foyer, her uptilted emerald eyes had turned unmistakably smoky, and Ford suddenly realized the dark house, seductive music and heady wine had set the scene for seduction. Just as he saw stark desire spark in her eyes, the lights snapped on, illuminating a room decorated with balloons and streamers—and he found himself wishing he had invited Katie here to seduce her. Surprised that she might really be game for something outside the OR, Ford had mulled the possibility over as hospital staff jumped from behind furniture, shouting, “Surprise! We’ll miss you, Katie! Hurry back from Houston!”

Disappointment had filled her eyes, then relief, then something that looked like sadness—but hell if Ford understood any of it. He’d been sure his teasing in the OR meant nothing to her. After work, she always vanished, almost as if she was avoiding him. He’d figured she had a hot, heavy romance. Any woman with green eyes as striking as hers probably would.

Maybe not, though. Now that the party was over and the guests had gone home, Ford was glad Katie had stayed and he could have her to himself. He leaned casually against the kitchen counter, his gaze traveling from Katie, who’d insisted on loading the dishwasher, to the living room, where party horns and paper plates still littered the tabletops. She looked up from the dishwasher. “I like those pictures you showed me in the hallway.”

He glanced toward the sketches and daguerreotypes. His favorites were of Lance Carrington, who’d moved the Carrington family westward to Texas in a covered wagon, and of the Freeland branch of the family, who had gotten waylaid in what was now Kentucky. He shot her a smile. “And you thought we Carringtons were snobs.”

Katie quit sorting silverware long enough to snort derisively. “Everybody in your family, including the guys on the Mayflower, were doctors.”

“True.” Chuckling, Ford rested both elbows comfortably on the counter. “But two hundred years ago, that meant selling potions from the backs of wagons and accidentally leeching people to death. Doctoring wasn’t exactly a reputable profession.”

When she shook her head as if to say he was impossible, light from the overhead tracks caught in her hair, turning the curls a beautiful burnished orange. His lips parted, but before he could say she possessed the most gorgeous hair in Texas, she drawled, “Are you sure you don’t mind me staying to do this?”

Mind? The second Katie Topper had stepped into his foyer, he’d decided he wanted her to stay all night. “I always get post-party blues,” he assured her.

Reaching into the sink, she lifted out dessert plates. “Incorrect response, Doctor. You’re supposed to say you like my company.”

“What,” he teased. “Fishing for compliments?”

She mock-scowled. “Maybe. What are you grinning at, anyway?”

The corners of his lips twisted into a flirtatiously devious smile. Each time she leaned to load the dishes, he got an eyeful of the best-looking backside in Austin. “Just looking at you. Scrubs and hairnets don’t do you justice.”

“And they supposedly enhance your appearance?”

He looked hurt. “They don’t?”

“No. And if I’d known you were hosting a party in my honor,” she added, shooting him an arch glance, “I would have dressed better.”

“It doesn’t get any better than this.” His eyes drifted over the faded denim hugging her hips. “Personally, I like tight jeans on a woman.”

“If you said you liked them on men, I’d start to wonder.”

“Hmm. Want to turn around? Model for me?”

Smirking, she swatted her very tempting-looking rear end. “Oh, kiss my round Irish behind, Ford Carrington,” she said grumpily.

“What?” Laughing, he poured himself another glass of wine and swirled it in the globe. “Be honest now. Didn’t you think I asked you here to seduce you, Katie? Just for a second?”

A breathless moment passed. Recovering, she shot him a game look. “Oh, you know how we nurses are when it comes to doctors. We always hope.”

He lifted his gaze, pinning hers over the rim of the glass. “Are you hoping tonight?”

“Keep dreaming,” she lightly volleyed in reply.

“You’re asking me to dream? I’ll take that as encouragement,” Ford assured, knowing she had no idea how their banter was affecting him. “There’s plenty of time left for dreaming, isn’t there, since the night’s still young?”

Her green eyes were assessing. “Is it?”

It damn well was, and the silence that fell like a dropping curtain lasted full seconds too long. They saw each other almost daily and had teased each other mercilessly, but now they were alone in his big, empty house, with an open bottle of wine between them. After tonight she’d be gone for three months, too, plenty of time for a one-night stand to blow over.

She kept her tone deceptively conversational. “Not so young,” she said, nodding toward the picture window above the sink. “See? There’s already a full moon out there.”

Her slow, thick accent curled into his blood, making him smile once more. In comparison, his accent was gone, educated out of him by the swanky Northeastern prep schools where his parents had sent him, and which he’d hated. She’d been right in the OR, he thought, watching her. Her Texas and his were two different places. She was a farm girl, born and bred, and even now, she talked like one. Still toying with the wine in his glass, watching the red liquid splash the sides, he drawled, “Sometimes a full moon makes all the difference in the world to a woman. Is it that way with you, Katie?”

“Only because I’m afraid of what you’ll turn into.”

He chuckled. “Hard to tell. A werewolf or vampire.”

“Oh, no,” she said darkly. “Definitely something worse.”

“Definitely.” Further relaxing against the counter, he wished he shared this kind of easy repartee with his crowd, instead of long, drawn-out evenings at fund-raisers, talking about stock portfolios. Breathing in the wine, he then savored the taste and immediately wished he was tasting something warmer, headier…Katie. “I’ll miss you,” he found himself saying, his voice catching throatily, becoming unexpectedly hoarse. “You’re the best nurse we’ve got. And when you come back, Cecil Nelson’s going to get hold of you.”

As she tossed her head, her magical curls caught the light again. She laughed off the compliment. “No pun?”

Ford’s eyes lingered, roving over her hair, and he took another drink of the liquor to soothe the dryness of his throat. “Pun?”

“Nelson. Getting hold of. Nelson’s a wrestling hold.”

Leave it to Katie to get the best of him in conversation. “No pun.” And he was getting impatient with the fun and games. “When are you going to start calling me Ford, Katie?”

She grinned. “Never.”

“Damn, you can be irritating,” he countered with another playful smile. “C’mon, quit doing the dishes. I told you earlier, I’ve got a maid coming tomorrow. Have a glass of wine with me. I invited you over for your going-away party, not to clean.”

Giving in, Katie dusted her hands with a dishcloth, and when her eyes found his again, she sobered. “The party was nice. Thanks…Ford.”