The Doctor's Pregnant Bride? Page 9

  More important, he didn’t go off into Ted-world as frequently, but was usually aware she was in the same room.

  So, she’d begun to hope. Now she knew she shouldn’t.

  “She really is just an old friend,” he said. “There’s nothing there.”

  “You don’t have to explain anything to me, Ted.” She stood. “I’ll go change.”

  Her excitement about the evening dimmed. She’d needed the reminder about their different worlds, his being one in which Tricia fit. Plus, they had a history. Histories mattered. Being able to trace your family tree to the dark ages mattered to some people, and half of Sara Beth’s branches were missing.

  She undressed, then looked at her image in the mirror. Okay, so a future with Ted is out of the question, but what about now? This moment?

  Sleeping with him—provided he was even interested—would break personal rules, including those drummed into her head all her life by her mother.

  But what about the adventure?

  Even that was coming to an end. His loft was decorated. The investigation would wrap up soon. They wouldn’t be thrown together anymore, but would have to make a conscious decision to see each other. Would he? Did she want to wait to find out?

  She figured she had the next couple of hours at dinner to decide.

  The longest two hours in recent memory.

  Ted took a swig of his Coke, finishing it off, trying to ignore the fact that Sara Beth O’Connell was standing naked in his bathroom, right next to his shower, a place comfortably big enough for two. He kept the picture of both of them showering together in his mind for a while, savoring it.

  Then, resting his arms along the back of his sofa, he inspected his decorated space, appreciating it, already forgetting how barren it used to look. Not to mention he’d actually taken off two Saturdays in a row—although his situation at the lab had allowed for it, too. He and Chance had put together a product that might increase sperm count and motility, their goal for years now.

  Time and testing would tell.

  In the meantime, they would continue the research. There was still much to accomplish. Plus there was the investigation to complete, to clear the institute’s name.

  After which Sara Beth would return to her former duties.

  No, not immediately. She was supposed to help him put together a best-practices manual, which would take a little while longer.

  He’d come to enjoy having her around, her presence oddly calming—oddly, because she also excited him. Even Chance had commented that Ted had seemed more relaxed than he could remember. Except that Chance hadn’t caught him staring at her, enjoying the way her braid lay along her spine, swinging as she moved. Or the curve of her rear when she bent over. Or the eye-catching bit of cleavage or lace when she wore V-necked sweaters, as she had today. Black sweater, her bra trimmed with black lace.

  Black underwear, too? He’d bet on it.

  “All yours.”

  Her voice shot into his fantasy like a fire-tipped arrow. All yours. She meant the bathroom, of course, but he considered a different meaning for a few seconds before turning toward her.

  She wore another basic black dress, but this one fit like a second skin. It dipped low, exposing the high curves of her breasts and more than a little cleavage, a gold oval locket brushing her flesh, dipping between her breasts. Her eyes didn’t shine with her usual good humor but with intensity—or maybe anticipation.

  “You look beautiful,” he said, which was an understatement.

  She gave a small, playful curtsy, then sniffed her arm. “I smell like you, or rather your hand soap.”

  He went to her and lifted her arm until the scent reached him. He remembered the moment a week ago when he’d hugged her, and her nipples had turned hard, which he could see happening now, too. He hooked a finger around her locket, lifting it free, the back of his finger sliding along her upper breast. She held her breath, yet still her flesh quivered.

  “Are there pictures inside?” he asked.

  “My mom and me.”

  “May I see?”

  She nodded.

  Gauging his welcome, he let his hands just barely rest against her as he undid the latch and opened the locket. “You must’ve been a teenager.”

  “Yes. Fifteen.”

  He snapped it shut then didn’t let go, his fingers itching to dip below her neckline, wishing he could fill his hands with her. “You haven’t asked me not to touch you,” he said, lifting his gaze to hers.

  “No.”

  The breathless sound gave him a broader answer, the answer he wanted. “Tell you what. I’ll go change and give you time to think. If you’ve tested the idea in your hand, and it still comes up positive…”

  “This isn’t science, Ted,” she said, a small, nervous smile forming on her kissable lips.

  “We work together.”

  “Not for much longer.”

  He stared at her mouth and the pale pink lipstick staining her lips, which parted invitingly. He bent low, touched his mouth to hers. Heat zapped his midsection and rocketed through him, the after-burn scorching him everywhere. He grabbed tight, pulled her against him, deepened the kiss, wanting all of her, everything she had to give.

  She drew a quick breath, flattened her hands against him, pressed her forehead to his chest.

  “I’m sorry.” He moved back slightly, having registered the surprise in her face—or fear. He didn’t know which. “Too much. Too soon. I’ll give you some time.” He turned around.

  “Ted, wait.”

  He felt like a teenager about to be reprimanded.

  “It’s okay,” she said, laying a hand on his arm.

  Not a reprimand, after all. “I lost control.”

  “So?”

  He faced her. The shock or fear, whatever it was, was gone. “I would’ve hauled you down to the sofa without thinking twice about it.”

  “Then stop thinking.” She smiled, slow and steamy, a Sara Beth he never would have anticipated. She was so…girl next door. Or so he’d thought.

  “I’d prefer my bed,” he said, thinking that far ahead.

  She looped her arms around his neck and moved against him. “Me, too.”

  He almost thanked her. Then he scooped her up and carried her to his bed, standing her beside it. He inched her zipper down, the sound crackling with anticipation. Her dress dropped to the floor, blanketing their feet. He’d guessed right. All black undergarments, including garter belt and stockings. Her body was about as perfect as a woman’s could be. “Look what you keep hidden under your scrubs. Is this what you wear to work?”

  “I like the feel of silk and lace against my skin.” She unbuttoned his shirt, pulled it loose and pressed her lips to his chest. “Mmm. This feels nice, too.”

  He unhooked her bra, slipped it down her then tossed it aside. He filled his hands with her breasts, ran his thumbs over her nipples. His mouth watered.

  “Um, Ted?”

  Don’t make me stop now. Please don’t. “Yeah?”

  “You know those pocket protectors you wear at work?”

  “Seriously? You’re going to get after me about that now? Now?”

  “Um, no.” She laid her palms against his chest. His muscles twitched. “I’m hoping you have a different kind of pocket protector here at home. I can’t tolerate the pill.”

  Was that all? He nudged her hair aside with his nose, dragged his lips down her neck, tasting her fragrant skin. “I was an Eagle Scout. What do you think?” He reached into his nightstand, pulled out a condom and flipped it onto a pillow.

  “Got more than one?”

  He laughed, shoved the bedding out of the way, then finished undressing. Lifting her in his arms, he laid her on the bed, landing on top of her, kissing her until she moaned, her lips soft and yielding, her mouth welcoming. He unwrapped the rest of her, revealing the gift of her body, tasting and savoring her as he went until she was naked and shaking. He didn’t let her touch him, afraid everything would
happen too fast. This was his present to himself. He intended to enjoy it. So he spent a lot of time swirling her nipples with his tongue, sucking them into his mouth, her back arching, sounds of pleasure coming from her throat. He moved down her body, teased her with long strokes of his tongue until she grabbed his hair and pulled him up, groaning as they kissed, wet and openmouthed, desire flowing from her.

  He drew her hand to him finally, wrapped it around his erection and closed his eyes at the erotic sensation as she moved her hand up, down and around, gently. Too gently. He needed a faster rhythm, stronger motion. Completion.

  He ripped open the condom, rolled it down, pulled her under him and plunged. Then he didn’t move a muscle, but felt, just felt…

  Sara Beth waited for him to move, the pressure inside her growing by the second.

  “You’re perfect,” he whispered, gruff and low, sliding his hands under her, lifting her impossibly closer, their bodies fused. He moved just a little, creating a tiny bit of friction at the most responsive spot. Her world spun, pleasure burst inside her. She threw back her head, sounds coming out of her that she’d never heard before.

  Then just when she was coming down, he moved, rhythmically, powerfully, and she was sent soaring again, beyond the realm of the first time, taking her to a place she wanted to stay forever….

  Because she was falling in love with him. Falling for the ethical, cause-devoted, brilliant man who tried to conform to expectation but was his own man, nonetheless. No one could tell him what to do or how to live his life. He just lived it.

  Sara Beth dug her fingers into his back as the realization struck her. How could she love him? It was too soon, too fast. Unrealistic.

  Idiotic.

  Desire was one thing, but love? No. She was just reacting to the best sex she’d ever had. He’d paid complete attention to her, just like he worked, single-minded, but this time devoted to the cause of giving her pleasure. Twice.

  Just then he rolled to his side, wrapped her close and held her. No words. No kisses. Just the beat of his heart thundering in her ear, gradually slowing into a strong, steady beat.

  “You okay?” he asked finally.

  Okay? No, she wasn’t okay. She was shell-shocked. Satisfied. Sated.

  “Never better,” she said.

  “Same here. Best birthday ever.”

  She tipped back her head to make eye contact. He didn’t look relaxed, but serious and tense. “Birthday? Why didn’t you say so?”

  “Because it’s not important.”

  “I think it is. I love birthdays. I would’ve gotten you something special. Or baked you a cake with thirty-three candles to blow out.”

  “You gave me a gift already. As for the cake, I don’t need to be reminded that time is passing by that fast.”

  He tucked her close again, his chin resting against her head. He’d started thinking about other things, she could tell. She just wished she knew what.

  “I’ve never known anyone like you,” he said finally. “Never had a…friend like you.”

  Friend. The word sounded like a death knell on the heels of her realizing she wanted more from him. Friend? What marked the difference for him between friend and girlfriend?

  And, really, what made her think she felt more? The heat of the moment, probably. Best sex of her life, too.

  Friend. That probably was a much truer definition.

  “Same here,” she said, feeling him tense up as he waited for her to say something in return. “I can’t think of anyone else I could work and play with without problems occurring in at least one of the situations.”

  “I’ll be right back.” He rolled out of bed, disappeared into the bathroom.

  Sara Beth untangled the sheet to cover herself, was just getting comfortable when he came walking back in all his naked glory. Yes, he was lean and lanky, but he didn’t lack for muscles, either, and he had long, sturdy legs and a broad chest tapering to narrow hips. All that wonderful masculinity in one gorgeous package, one he knew how to use to bring unmatched pleasure.

  He lifted the sheet and climbed in, settling on his side, resting his head on his hand, staring at her for so long she ran a hand over her mouth. “Do I have birthday cake on my face?”

  He laughed. “You are a complete surprise, Sara Beth.”

  “In a good way?”

  “In an exceptional way.” He brushed her hair from her face. “I’ve been watching you for months. No, admiring you for months. I’ve listened to Chance praise your professionalism. I’ve seen you being competent yet kind. I know you have a depth of sympathy and empathy that make you a good nurse. When Lisa said you were going to be helping us, I was glad and relieved. Professional, competent, sympathetic and empathetic. That was good enough. But sexy, too? You’re a fascinating woman.”

  Fascinating friend, you mean. And you have a date with an old girlfriend tomorrow night. “There’s more to you than I first thought, too,” she said, sidestepping the issue of Tricia. And parental wishes to procreate—with one of his own kind, Sara Beth was sure.

  “So, size does matter?” His grin was wide, his eyes alight with humor.

  “That falls into the category of bonus.”

  The phone rang. He ignored it, although he also looked uncomfortable, since it would go to his answering machine, which she would also be able to hear.

  “You can pick it up,” she said, feeling sorry for him—until Tricia’s voice came on the line, her nasally voice distinctive.

  “Hey, Chip. Just wanted to send you birthday greetings on the actual day. I’m really looking forward to tomorrow. Your mom said you got your place decorated, so maybe I could meet you there and see it before we head out? We have lots of catching up to do—in more ways than one. Ciao.”

  Sara Beth pulled the sheet a little higher. Tricia’s voice had a tantalizing edge to it, as if she had in mind an evening of unwrapping a special present of her own for him, too. It tarnished everything that had just happened with Ted.

  She tried to keep her voice level. “Chip?”

  “After the singing cartoon chipmunk, Theodore.”

  “Was that your nickname as a kid?” It sounded like a Boston royalty nickname—Chip, Muffy, Miffy, Trey.

  Ted looked distinctly uncomfortable. “Not in general, no.” He cupped her shoulder. “She’s just a friend.”

  “Like me.” She couldn’t hold it in any longer. She didn’t want to be just his friend, not if Tricia had the same significance. She started to climb out of bed, but he stopped her.

  “You’re more than that,” he said.

  “Am I? In what way?”

  Confusion crossed his face. “I’m sleeping with you.”

  “Friends with benefits?” She hated that term. It turned sex into something almost meaningless, just satisfying a physical need, nothing else.

  “Works for me.”

  She’d gotten herself into this situation. He hadn’t said he felt more for her, so she only had herself to blame.

  The problem was, she was jealous of Tricia Trahearn. She’d never been jealous before—or had to share before. She didn’t want to start now.

  She made herself sound light and unconcerned. “So. Are we going to dinner? I’m starved.” She didn’t really want to sit across a table from him right now, either, but it was a better alternative to giving up more of herself to him without getting enough in return.

  He was quiet for several seconds. “You’re upset.”

  “I’m hungry.” She got out of bed, uncomfortable at first, then deciding to let him see what he would be missing in the future—because she wasn’t going to sleep with him again. No friends with benefits for her.

  She had to dig through bedding to find all her clothes, then she dressed as he watched, feeling her cheeks heat up but ignoring it. She found the tote she’d brought, pulled out her brush and went into the bathroom, shutting the door. She leaned against the vanity, stared into the mirror, seeing splotches of color in her usually pale cheeks. Her lips
were a little swollen from being kissed thoroughly and well.

  She soaked a washcloth with cold water, pressed it to her face, her eyes stinging. Idiot. The word rang and rang in her head as she brushed her hair and fixed her makeup. Somehow she needed to find a way to smile, not to let him know how it mattered that he only considered her a friend. It wasn’t his fault that her expectations were higher than his ability to meet.

  She wasn’t a match for him, anyway, their places in the world too vastly different from each other.

  He was waiting in the living room, standing at his window, watching the lights. He turned. He’d dressed in his more typical dark slacks and white shirt, but also a muted tie. He still hadn’t gotten his hair cut, and it curled over his collar. Tall, dark and gorgeous indeed.

  He walked toward her, stopped a foot away, close enough to touch but not doing so. His eyes were filled with concern. She smiled. He really was a good person, which was why she’d fallen for him. But she couldn’t make him feel the same as she did, no matter how much she wished it.

  “I’m sorry,” she said, needing the discomfort between them to end. “I was being prickly for no good reason. It all happened so suddenly, you know? I needed a few minutes to figure it out.”

  “You regret what happened?”

  “No.”

  He hesitated. “Are you still hungry?”

  She wasn’t sure how to take that. Hungry for food or him? “Yes,” she said, since both possibilities were true. Let him figure it out.

  “Do you have all your stuff?”

  She pointed toward the elevator, where her tote bag sat.

  “Okay, then.”

  She didn’t know what they would talk about over dinner, but they managed to spend the next couple of hours doing just that, talking, finding ease with each other again. Then when they arrived at her house, he didn’t argue with her when she said she didn’t need him to walk her to her door.

  He kissed her cheek before she got out of the car. “Thank you.”

  She didn’t want clarification of what for. “You’re welcome. I’ll see you at work on Monday.”

  “Yeah.”

  “Good night, Ted.”