Doctor For Keeps

No, in fact, it was good. Very good. “I’m surprised I haven’t taken out a couple of your toes.”

He searched her eyes as if trying to find more secrets. “Don’t sell yourself short, Randi. You’re a natural. That’s important in many things.”

Her breath caught at his comment. If he referred to lovemaking, unfortunately she had no experience along those lines.

As the song continued, then another, they gradually moved a little closer with each track until Miranda was flush against Rick, engulfed in his strong arms and his male essence. He bent his head and pressed a cheek against her ear. He radiated heat at the point where her breasts met the solid wall of his chest. Her blouse dampened there and she could also feel the dampness beneath her fingertips where they rested against his back. But the most notable heat came from deep within her body, pooling in places she had long since learned to ignore.

He slipped one arm underneath her hair at her nape and lifted it slightly away from her neck, then drew back and studied her face. The moment seemed to suspend, as the conversation had a while ago. She thought he might actually kiss her. She hoped he would.

Instead, he stopped moving. “It’s hot in here. I think the air conditioner’s on the fritz.”

Miranda’s whole being clutched with loss when he dropped his arms from around her and moved away. The mood was suddenly shattered. “Yes, it is a little warm.”

But he was gone just long enough to open the front windows, turn on the ceiling fan and turn off the overhead light, leaving only a small illumination coming from the kitchen.

“Is that better?” he asked, taking her back into his arms.

Miranda wasn’t sure how to answer. Yes, it took care of some of the external temperature problems, but the inferno still raged within her. “It’s more comfortable.”

“Good.” He brought her back against him.

Again they fell into an easy rhythm as they swayed in time to another easy song. She found herself holding on to Rick tighter, as if he might slip away as all good fantasies tended to do. His hands traveled lower and came to rest just below the spot where her hair met her waist. His touch was real, not imagined. Not a dream, although dreamlike.

Miranda’s pulse pounded in her ears when he brushed a kiss on her cheek. Her heart beat wildly out of control when he pressed the small of her back, bringing their hips closer together. She felt his bold arousal against her belly, and the air left her lungs.

Well, she was aroused, too. More than she ever imagined being. Her mouth went dry and she automatically licked her bottom lip. That seemed to capture his fascination. His gaze dropped to her mouth then came back to her eyes.

He softly said, “Miranda,” as if testing the sound, followed by a kiss on her forehead, her jaw, then a feather-light caress on her lips. He met her gaze again, his eyes full of questions, as if seeking permission to continue. She gave it, not through words, but by leaning forward until their mouths met with a hungry passion.

This is crazy, her mind shouted from somewhere far away, but she didn’t heed the warning. She was too lost in the heady feelings Rick roused with the stroking of his tongue in soft fluid movements between her parted lips, the taste of beer and need. She did hear a moan and realized it had come from her. The kiss ended almost as abruptly as it had begun.

Rick released a ragged breath and touched his forehead to hers. “Randi, you need to go.”

Had she done something wrong? Did he find her kisses lacking? “You want me to go?”

“No. That’s why you need to go.”

Miranda’s stomach dipped and churned as if she’d hopped on a runaway roller coaster. She felt giddy, light-headed, totally out of control. A man hadn’t wanted her in a long time. Not since college, and that one awful experience had convinced her to live a lonely, celibate life. For self-protection, she had never let herself be wanted.

At the very least, giving in to this breathtaking desire for Rick was risky. She didn’t even know his last name. And if she continued on the present course, her life might never be the same. But she didn’t care. Until now, she hadn’t been living.

Miranda decided not to question why she had chosen this enigmatic stranger with devilishly dark eyes, a soft spot for kids and strong yet gentle hands, to fulfill her fantasies. Perhaps because he was a stranger and knew nothing of her past. Maybe it was the bond she seemed to have with him, as if she’d always known him. In a way she did know him. He was the answer to her prayers, her dreams, her fantasies. At least for this one magical night.

Regardless, she had chosen him, and she wasn’t about to change her mind.

Miranda drew in a deep breath and released it with a sigh. “What if I don’t want to go?”

Rick was taken aback by Randi’s bold declaration and determined expression. Despite her obvious conviction, there was an innocence about her, something he found refreshing in the jaded sexual world he’d come to know.

He couldn’t fathom what he’d done right to be worthy of this angel on the doorstep, especially now that he was entertaining some wicked thoughts. But she deserved more than a one-night stand, and he couldn’t get involved with anyone right now. He didn’t have the time. Until he’d met her, he didn’t have the inclination. Even if he wanted a relationship, Randi probably wouldn’t approve of his occupation. Not to mention that his tenuous future didn’t include anything permanent. But her quick wit, no-holds-barred honesty and guileless green eyes made him consider things he shouldn’t.

He’d learned a lot in his thirty-two years, especially self-control. If he didn’t turn Miss Brooks around and march her outside, life’s lessons would be out the door instead of her.

Rick bracketed Randi’s face in his palms and searched her green eyes for the least bit of indecision. He didn’t find any. “Do you know what you’re saying?”

“I’m saying I want to stay. I want to be with you.”

He had to make her understand exactly how far this could go if she didn’t stop him. “I want you, Randi. All of you.”

“I know. I feel the same about you.” As if to prove it, she brought her arms from around his waist and fanned her palms in the opening of his shirt. Her touch seemed tentative, then more insistent as she feathered her fingertips across his chest. He was really sweating now.

“Your skin’s so hot,” she whispered.

That wasn’t the only thing. He swallowed hard. “Yeah.”

“Why don’t you take your shirt off?” She said the words without looking at him. Did she mean it? He aimed to find out.

He tugged the tails from his waistband and began slipping the buttons while she watched. Her eyes widened when he shucked the shirt off his shoulders and tossed it on the sofa. But she didn’t protest, or rush out the door. Instead, she circled her arms around his bare waist, sparking his imagination. What would it feel like to have her naked beneath him? His resolve weakened at the vivid mental image that thought created.

He hadn’t meant for this to happen. He’d only wanted the company of a beautiful woman who could hold her own in conversation and make him laugh. She had done both.

Of course, he had invited her inside in the first place. Obviously she’d read more into his intentions. But he’d kissed her first. He couldn’t help himself. Not when she looked at him like he was special, someone who could fulfill her fantasies.

When was the last time a woman looked at him that way? A woman who didn’t know who he was. Or what he was. Someone who expected nothing from him in terms of what he could do for their social standing.

Maybe she had just gotten caught up in the moment, the electricity that arced between them. If so, the time had come to slam on the brakes, before he couldn’t.

Then Miranda placed a kiss on his chest, right above his pounding heart, and his coveted control flew out the open window.

He slipped his hand underneath her silky hair and brought it to rest at the waistband of her skirt. When he began to tug her shirt up, needing to feel the bare flesh on her back, she flinched and pulled away.

“Are you really okay with this?” he asked.

Her smile was wan, self-conscious. “Yes, it’s just my back… I’m ticklish. It’s kind of weird, I know, but I don’t like being touched there.”

He grazed her cheek with a fingertip. “Where do you want me to touch you?”

She met his gaze, and he noted shyness in her expression, giving him pause. “You want me to tell you?”

“Unless you tell me, I won’t know.”

Randi didn’t answer with words. Instead, she took his hand and laid it on her left breast. Rick felt the butterfly beat of her heart and her nipple pebbling beneath his palm. He stared for a moment like a kid copping his first feel.

He’d had countless sexual offers from women, some he’d considered, some not. But he’d never met a woman like Miranda Brooks. The innocence shining in her eyes was in direct contrast to her saucy attitude and made-for-sin body. That innocence worried him the most.

What a time to get a conscience—when a beautiful brunette seemed bent on seducing him. But he didn’t want to hurt her, and he realized he could, even if he didn’t intend to. He had so little to offer, and she had something special that he couldn’t quite name. Something that had touched him on a deeper level than the physical. Something he didn’t care to acknowledge.

She pushed against his hand. Despite his caution, he stroked his thumb across her nipple through the thin cotton of her shirt, slowly back and forth. Her eyes turned soft and hooded, her expression languid.