Doctor And The Debutante

“I’m fine,” Laura said, laughing. She teetered within his arms, her sprained ankle refusing to support her weight. “That’s the first time I’ve been attacked by a dinosaur. A purple one, at that.”

She couldn’t be hurt if she’s laughing, Sean realized, smiling as he steadied her. “I should have warned you. This room is booby-trapped.” He noticed Max eyeing him suspiciously from the tangle of bedcovers. Sean doubted that cat would ever trust him.

“I can see that now.” She looked up at him, thinking he should smile more. It softened the hard planes of his face.

Up close against her, Sean was suddenly conscious of her tousled hair, the just-out-of-bed warmth of her, the quick awareness that leaped into her dark blue eyes as her laughter faded. She was fully clothed, as was he, yet he could feel every nerve ending go on alert with just the touch of his hand on her arm.

Laura breathed in the just-showered freshness of his hair, noticing that his broad shoulders blocked everything else from view. She watched sudden heat jump into his gray eyes and felt the reawakening of feelings she’d thought long buried. What was happening here?

Sean was the first to recover. “You’re sure you’re not hurt?” He forced his gaze down to her ankle, saw it was still swollen. “You shouldn’t be walking on that sprain.”

Laura leaned back from him, reaching a hand to brace herself on the bathroom door frame. She needed some distance, a moment to clear her head. “No harm done, really. I was just a little clumsy, that’s all.”

“I’ve got an old umbrella around here somewhere with a curved handle. It’ll help you walk. I’ll look for it.” He had to get out of there, to move away from the womanly scent of her, the sleepy-eyed look of her. Stepping back, he bent to gather up the clothes she’d dropped, then straightened and held them out to her. “These should fit you.”

“Thank you.” Needing to change the subject, she gestured to include the room. “Does this room belong to the little boy in the picture above the fireplace?”

Sean’s jaw clenched hard before he forced himself to relax. “It did.”

Past tense. She’d better leave that alone. “And these clothes. Your wife’s?”

“No!” He hadn’t intended to be so sharp. “They belong to my mother. She visits sometimes and keeps a few things here.” He nodded toward the bathroom. “There’re plenty of clean towels. Take your time. I’ll get that umbrella.” Abruptly, he left the room, closing the door behind him.

So it was Danny’s room and Danny’s picture, Laura thought as she hobbled into the bathroom. But no wife. Or at least, no clothes of the wife’s around. He’d sounded angry and bitter at the mention of her. Probably a divorce. Harsh and painful feelings often linger after a divorce. She ought to know.

Laura tested the shower, then began undressing, her mind digesting what she’d just learned.

No doubt Laura would think him quite odd when she learned that Danny was gone, yet he’d kept the boy’s room at the cabin exactly the same during the four years since the child had disappeared from his life, Sean acknowledged. Of course, she didn’t know the details. He supposed it wasn’t quite normal behavior, whatever that was. Those first few months, he’d had trouble even coming back here. Gradually, he’d managed to visit and each year, he intended to redo the room. But when he actually stepped inside to tackle the task, he couldn’t make himself pack up and put away all remnants of the laughing little boy who still owned his heart.

Sick was what Jonah told him he was, and his partner was probably right. He hadn’t many quirks, but this one he’d certainly nurtured a long while. His mother had offered to do it for him, and at first, he’d agreed, only to stop her before she could begin. A shrink would have a field day with his head, Sean thought.

So be it. It was his head and his right to keep the room any way he saw fit. Perhaps one day he’d know it was time.

He poured himself more coffee, then glanced down at the sketch he’d been working on. He’d drawn from memory Laura’s face the way it had looked to him last night. Lovely. Vulnerable. Troubled. She, too, had her secrets, as did he.

It was a hell of a complicated world, Sean decided, sitting down at the maple table and picking up his pencil.

She felt better after her shower. The clothes were slightly baggy on her, but clean. She’d managed to avoid soaking the bandage on her forehead, but it needed changing. She was pleased that her face wasn’t quite so pale, although she had one doozy of a shiner.

Sometime during the night, Sean had put a new toothbrush and even a hair dryer on one of the wide shelves next to the medicine chest. He said he’d built the cabin and apparently had thought of everything. She assumed there must be a second bath off his bedroom.

Laura finished blow-drying her hair just in time, for her ankle was hurting badly and standing was becoming uncomfortable. Hobbling, she made the bed as best she could, then found an old-fashioned umbrella with a thick curved handle by the door. All the amenities, she thought and left the room, leaning heavily on the makeshift cane.

He looked up when he heard her door open, but squelched the urge to rush to her side to help her over. He sensed she hated depending on him, or anyone. Besides, he wasn’t certain he could handle supporting her against his body, smelling his own shampoo on her hair. But he did get up to pour her coffee and carried the cup and a tall glass of orange juice over to where she’d sat down clear across the table from him.

Was she having some difficulty handling his nearness, as well?

“The clothes okay?” She was wearing his mom’s yellow sweats, their roominess emphasizing her small bone structure, making her seem more fragile.

“They’re fine, thank you.” She sipped the juice, her eyes downcast, feeling oddly ill at ease. It had been a very long time since she’d sat across the breakfast table from a man. Over two years, to be exact. And she and Marc had spent many of those early morning sessions quarreling before he’d leave in an angry huff.

Yes, those were the good old days. May they never return.

“Did you sleep well?” Sean asked, using his most professional doctor voice. If he could think of her as a patient, perhaps the air wouldn’t be so supercharged.

“Very well, thanks.” Which wasn’t exactly true. She had slept soundly until the medicine wore off, somewhere in the middle of the night. Pain hadn’t awakened her, her troubled thoughts had. She’d lain there trying to remember what had happened to bring her here, why she was afraid and who had made her so fearful. She’d come up empty-handed.

Laura raised her eyes to his face, caught the slight twitch of his mouth before shifting her gaze to the fogged-up window. Knowing he, too, was nervous helped her relax. “I see it’s still snowing.”

“Yeah. I shoveled off the porch earlier, and the steps, but they’re covered up again.”

Max chose that moment to saunter out of the bedroom, having completed his morning bathing ritual. He rubbed up against Laura’s legs, meowing softly, wanting her attention. Smiling, she reached to pet his soft head knowing just what he wanted. “About that tuna you said you had,” she reminded him, aware how hungry Max must be.

“Right.” Sean walked to the counter and found the tuna in the cupboard, opened the can and chunked the contents into a small dish. He placed the dish on the floor by the back door, then went back for a dish of water. As he set that down, Max strolled over, but waited until Sean went back to his seat before deigning to taste his breakfast.

“Thanks,” Laura said, her eyes on her cat.

Sean had been thinking about another problem involving Max. “What about a sandbox for him? Obviously, I don’t have any kitty litter.” And he didn’t want Max to get territorial and start marking his spots.

“Hmm. Maybe you could shovel off a small section near the back door. I’ll let him out and keep an eye on him. He’s not one to wander.”

“Fine.” Sean watched her wrap both hands around the coffee mug and slowly sip. Her lips were full and looked incredibly soft. He wondered what they’d feel like, what she’d taste like and…

And he was losing his mind!

Disgusted with himself, Sean rose and went to stand looking out the window. Damn, he didn’t need this right now, not this particular week. In the four years he’d been alone, he hadn’t exactly lived like a monk, but he hadn’t been with a lot of women, either. Mostly because at first, he hadn’t wanted to, and later, he hadn’t run across many who’d interested him in that way.

Besides, it wasn’t fair to a woman to get involved physically when he knew he’d never again take a chance on emotional involvement. It cost too much, in pain—in loneliness, in disappointment. The fleeting pleasure simply wasn’t worth it, though the lack of a love life often had him edgy. Especially when confronted with a beautiful woman in close quarters.

Laura Marshall was a mystery to him. Maybe that’s why she intrigued him. Perhaps if he learned more, the fascination would disappear. In a perfect world, he would help solve her problem, the snow would stop and the roads would be cleared, which would mean they could leave and get on with their respective lives. But then again, this was hardly a perfect world.

Turning, Sean went back and sat down. “Have you remembered any more about why you left home in such a hurry?”

She shook her head, her long hair curtaining her face. “I tried, but the memory is still blocked.” She narrowed her eyes, wanting badly to recall everything, for herself as well as to erase that skeptical look from his face. “I’d had a business lunch, then driven home about four. The phone was ringing as I walked in and I answered it. But I can’t remember who was on the other end, or even if they were male or female. I can recall only this overwhelming need to get away. I grabbed my purse and keys, picked up Max and literally ran out the door. I don’t even know if I locked up.” Setting down her cup, she rubbed her temples.

“Don’t try to force it. Give it time.” Noticing her bandage was damp, he went to get his medical bag.

Sean removed the bandage and discarded it, then examined the cut. “It’s coming along nicely.” He put antibiotic ointment on a clean gauze square, then taped it in place.

“Thank you, again. It seems I’m always thanking you.”

“Not necessary.” He scooted his chair back, then surprised her by reaching for her sprained ankle and moving it up onto his lap. Carefully he removed the thick sock and, with practiced fingers, he felt all over, noticing her slight wince as he pressed.

He had such strong fingers, Laura thought, yet he was so very careful not to hurt her. He took his time, feeling every which way, his touch soothing yet at the same time arousing. His hands kneading her foot sent sensual waves coursing up her leg. She felt the heat rise in her face and raised a hand to her brow so he wouldn’t notice.

“I think we’d better put an Ace bandage on this to give you some support.”

Thankfully, he didn’t seem to notice her discomfort. “Whatever you think,” she said. “You’re the doctor.”