One Night with the Doctor (6 page)

Raw pleasure rippled through her and her body surged like an engine approaching overload. Never had she felt so alive, so in the moment. The carnal desire she’d once thought gone forever had returned, hot and intense.

Poppy couldn’t keep her hands and mouth off him. His skin was warm and salty beneath her tongue, his body taut and responsive as she boldly stroked and caressed. Communication was quickly reduced to moans and sighs and gasps.

She wanted him inside her, needed him inside her. Just as she was beginning to believe she couldn’t go one second longer, he snagged a condom from the bedside table. As if understanding it had been a long time for her, he gently eased in while continuing to caress, to kiss, to suckle. Once she’d accepted him fully, he began to move with slow, steady strokes that brought bursts of delicious sensations to her body and a prayer to her lips.

“Please don’t stop,” she begged.

He took her mouth in a rough kiss. “Furthest thing from my mind.”

Poppy chuckled then gasped, when he plunged deeper. A fresh wave of pleasure stole her breath. She clung to him, her nails scoring his back as once again the moment blurred in a dizzying array of want and need. Yet when she poised on the edge of exploding, she held back, the emotion so intense, so real, it somehow seemed wrong to be experiencing it here, with this...stranger.

“Let go,” he urged, his eyes dark with desire.

“I can’t.”

“You can.” He captured her mouth in a ravenous kiss and rocked his hips. “You will.”

A cry tore from her lips as her control snapped and she tumbled over the edge. Seconds later he shuddered and called her name, then collapsed on top of her.

Poppy closed her eyes, overcome by a world that still swirled around her in a blur of sight and sound. She was still breathing hard when he rolled off her. But instead of getting up, he pulled her to him, kissing her neck, her face, her lips.

“Amazing.” Even to her own ears, her voice sounded as if it came from a million miles away.

“A good word.” His voice rasped, deep and unsteady. “Though hardly adequate.”

“You know what I’d like.” Her arms remained wrapped around his warm flesh, the solid muscles taut beneath her fingers.

“Another amazing experience?”

Her lips curved. “A shower.”

He trailed a finger down her body. “May I join you?”

She lifted one shoulder slightly, keeping her eyes fixed on him. “It’s your shower.”

“It’s your fantasy.” As heat flooded her cheeks, he chuckled. “And it happens to be mine, as well.”

He rolled over and swore.

She widened her eyes. “Problem?”

“I got bit in the butt.” He pulled one of her glittery clips out from under him. “By this.”

“Poor Ben.” She chuckled. “Want me to kiss and make it all better?”

His eyes sparked. “I’ll remind you of that when we’re in the shower.”

Once under the steaming jets, he didn’t need to remind her. Her desire was insatiable and he shared the obsession. There was only one bad moment.

He’d taken her against the glass block wall of the shower with streams of water washing over them, but when he pulled out, the condom slipped.

For a second he froze, as still as any museum statue. “We might have a problem.”

Recalling all those years of monitoring her temperature, of having sex on precisely the right day and still not conceiving, Poppy simply laughed and kissed him. “No worries. Remember, I can’t get pregnant.”

Ben released a long breath. “I’ve never had this happen.”

“It must be a night for firsts.” Poppy trailed her hand slowly up and down his slick body.

He angled his head.

“I’ve never had sex three times in one night.”

“We’ve only done it twice.”

“That’s true.” She gave him a saucy wink. “But the night is still young.”

Chapter Six

T
hough he hadn’t fallen asleep until after two, Ben’s internal alarm woke him shortly before five. He opened his eyes and turned at the feeling of pressure against his arm.

He smiled when he saw Poppy sprawled facedown with one of her arms flopped over his. A sheet draped low across her hips. Gently he tugged out from under her. He let his eyes linger on the soft expanse of skin and felt his body stir.

When they’d made love that third time it had been just as spectacular as the other two. The condom slippage on the second round still troubled him, but Poppy didn’t appear worried. Since she hadn’t conceived during her failed marriage, it was doubtful one slip would do it.

A soft tapping of nails sounded against the hardwood floors. Ben turned and saw Groucho staring up at him, a low whine humming in his throat.

He brought a finger to his lips and shot the dog a warning glance. Just because he and Groucho were early risers didn’t mean Poppy had to get up. Slowly, regretfully, Ben slid off the side of the bed, shivering as cool air hit his bare skin.

Before hitting the shower, he tugged the comforter up to Poppy’s shoulders. She murmured something but continued to sleep, her dark hair tousled against the pillow.

The urge to make love to her again seized him, gripped him like a hand to the throat. He desperately wanted to bring a smile to her mouth and a laugh back to her lips while her heart hammered and her lush body quivered beneath him.

But Groucho whined again and necessity trumped desire.

After a quick shower—extra cold—Ben donned jeans and a black sweater before heading downstairs.

Normally Angela had coffee ready and Groucho fed before he hopped out of bed, but today was Sunday and her day off. So after a quick trip outside with the schnauzer, he brought out the kibble. While the dog chowed down, Ben ground beans and got the coffee started. Chores completed, he poured himself a tall glass of orange juice and contemplated the past twelve hours.

His desire for Poppy only burned hotter after their time in bed. He wanted to spend more time with her. Several times last night he almost suggested they forget this one-night stand nonsense, but had held back.

She’d made it very clear all she wanted from him was light, fun sex. Well, last night
had
been fun. And there’d been lots of sex.

The coffeemaker beeped and he poured himself a cup, remembering her responsiveness, her fearlessness in letting him know exactly what she liked. He smiled smugly. Now, thanks to him, she had some new favorites.

He wrapped his hands around the steaming mug. If Poppy was willing, he was definitely up for a repeat performance.

“Good morning.”

The low, throaty tone immediately conjured up images of sweat-soaked sheets and tangled limbs. Poppy stood in the doorway, looking tousled but gorgeous in the same floral dress she’d worn last night.

“I came in search of coffee.” Though her gaze never wavered, her tentative smile told him she wasn’t as confident as she appeared.

“You’ve come to the right place.” Grabbing the extra mug he’d placed on the counter, Ben filled it with a rich Columbian breakfast blend. “How do you like it?”

“Black and strong.”

Groucho looked up from his now empty dish and trotted over to her, his tail wagging a welcome.

Keeping her eyes on Ben, she bent and gave the top of the dog’s head an affectionate pat. “Good morning, Groucho.”

When she straightened, Ben handed her a mug. He expected her to sit and savor. Instead she rested one arm on the counter and remained standing. She peered at him through lowered lashes.

“I need some direction from you, doctor.” While she spoke she absently trailed a finger around the lip of the cup.

Ben’s mouth went dry, remembering how she’d trailed that same finger down the length of him.

“I’m at your service,” he managed to croak out.

“I’m not sure of proper protocol.” She gestured with her hand in the direction of the front of the house. “Should I have slipped silently out the door? Left a note on the pillow, thanking you for a night of great sex? Or...?”

“Running off is always poor manners.” Ben placed his cup on the counter then pulled out a frying pan. After setting it on the burner, he moved to the refrigerator for the bacon and eggs. “Proper protocol mandates you drink your coffee while I make us breakfast.”

When she hesitated, he shot her a wink. “Doctor’s orders.”

Poppy rolled her emerald eyes. But when she settled into the chair and made an appreciative sound at the taste of the coffee, Ben let himself relax.

With well-practiced ease, he added butter to the pan, cracked the eggs then shifted his attention to the bacon. But his mind remained focused on the brunette in his kitchen.

Though one-night stands by their nature came with a built-in ending, in Ben’s mind, last night had been a beginning. He wasn’t ready to let Poppy simply walk out of his life.

Though he knew she’d vehemently deny it, there was a link between them. He wasn’t sure where that connection came from or where it might lead, but he was open to exploring possibilities.

Poppy took another long sip of coffee then cocked her head. “Do you always make a big breakfast for your...guests?”

There was no way Ben was getting into a discussion of the previous women in his life. Adroitly, he sidestepped the question. “Big breakfasts are for weekends.”

“Then you don’t eat like this—” she gestured with one hand toward the plates he was heaping with food “—every day?”

“Hardly.” Ben chuckled. “During the week, I usually have a protein shake chased by a cup of very strong coffee.”

Poppy tried to keep a poker face even as a chill traveled up her spine.

In her experience, most successful surgeons were self-disciplined to a fault. Very focused on getting what they wanted.
Used
to getting what they wanted with little regard for anyone, or anything, else. That was why it was imperative she keep Ben at arm’s length.

Too late, Poppy thought, laughter bubbling up. She’d hardly kept Ben at arm’s length last night.

“Something funny?” He placed the plate of eggs, bacon and toast in front of her before taking a seat.

“I was thinking of last night.”

His fork stopped short of his mouth. “Last night was humorous?”

“No,” she said quickly, but couldn’t stop the smile forming on her lips. “Well, other than that thing you did with—”

“Favorite of mine, too.” His unexpected grin made her heart thump.

Then he lowered his head and kissed her softly on the mouth. It only took one taste for her to forget the need for restraint. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave into the sensations sweeping through her body like an out-of-control wildfire. He was the one who finally drew back with a shaky laugh.

As they ate, Poppy kept the conversation deliberately light. Yet, even as they chatted easily, something hovered in the air between them, something she didn’t want to examine too closely. Last night had exceeded her expectations. Unfortunately, instead of satisfying her, she yearned for more.

The idea of a repeat performance, as enticing as it was, sent little red flags popping up.

Poppy wished she could convince herself that as long as they kept whatever this was between them just about sex, it wouldn’t hurt to see Ben again. But the intense heat that even a simple kiss could spark warned their relationship might not stay light and fun for long. There was a reason a one-night stand lasted only one night.

“That was an excellent breakfast,” she said when he rose to clear the dishes. “Following a most excellent, er, superb night.”

She stood, bent to give Groucho one quick scratch behind the ears before straightening. “I need to run. I’m sure our paths will cross again. Jackson Hole isn’t that big.”

Poppy started to extend her hand, then realized the gesture might be more insulting than polite. She let her hand drop to her side.

Ben’s gaze met hers. “I thought we might spend the day together.”

The fact that her heart leaped at the offer told her she was right to step back. “Not part of the rules.”

Puzzlement filled his eyes. “Rules?”

“One night.” She forced a bright smile. “You go your way. I go mine.”

“I remember,” he said easily. “But rules can always be altered with the consent of both parties.”

Poppy gathered up her purse. “That’s the sticking point, then.”

“I don’t see why.” His voice dropped to that sexy rumble that sent a thrill up her spine. “As I said, I want to spend the day with you.”

Holding on to her resolve with both hands, Poppy met his gaze. “And I want to stick to the rules.”

* * *

The women’s bathroom at the courthouse afforded little privacy, but now that the worry was in her head, Poppy couldn’t wait a second longer. She decided the stall was private enough to take the pregnancy test she’d picked up that morning “just to ease her mind.”

Her period, which for the past twenty years had arrived with military precision, had yet to make an appearance. Initially she blamed the delay on the stress of a new job. Until Ben had left another message asking her to call him. Apparently he wanted to confirm there had been no consequences to the condom slipping when they were together.

She’d just missed her second period. Poppy pulled the box from her purse and glanced at the directions. The step wasn’t really necessary. She’d taken this same test more times than she could count during the years she’d been seriously trying to get pregnant. If anyone knew these specific directions, it was her.

She made quick work of the process. When she gazed down at the stick, her heart gave a little leap. She’d never seen a positive. Plenty of negatives. But never a...

Poppy blinked. Positive. Blinked again.

The thickness filling her chest made breathing difficult. She glanced down as if she could see through her navy skirt. Was there really a baby growing inside her? How was that even possible?

Tears leaked. She brushed them back, took several deep breaths. Though this particular test was touted as being ninety-nine point nine percent reliable, she needed an expert opinion before she gave in to emotion. Thankfully, she had an appointment later today with Travis Fisher, her ob-gyn, to discuss “menstrual irregularities.”

After all, no test was foolproof. But the stomach upset she’d been experiencing in the morning for the past few weeks and the breast tenderness told her that when she went in for her appointment, she needed to be prepared.

Prepared to be told she was finally pregnant.

* * *

“The blood test and the exam confirm what you suspected.”

Poppy sat in a chair in Travis’s office, her nails digging into the arms of the leather chair. “The doctor in New York said I was infertile.”

Despite her outward calm, her insides trembled.

“We all make mistakes.” Travis smiled then his expression quickly sobered. “There’s nothing in the records you had transferred that shows you’re anything other than a healthy young woman. No medical reason is documented that would indicate you’re physically unable to conceive.”

“Nothing except four years of trying to have a baby without any results.” Poppy tried to keep the frustration from her voice as she recalled the years of monitoring her temperature and having regimented sex.

Travis stroked his chin. “Have you considered the problem may not have been yours?”

“My ex had two children from a previous marriage and a high-normal sperm count.” Poppy took in some air and blew it out. “But that doesn’t matter now. According to you, I’m pregnant.”

“You are indeed.” Travis’s gaze searched hers. “How does that make you feel?”

“Stupid,” she admitted, then grudgingly added, “and excited. That probably sounds crazy considering I’m on my own here, but I never thought I’d be able to have a baby.”

“Conflicting emotions are to be expected.”

Poppy gave a little laugh. “It must be my upbringing but I keep waiting for you to do the shocked voice and ask me what was I thinking?”

“That’s for your mother.” Travis shifted in his chair. “Besides, I’d be the last person to lay that on you.”

She cast him a curious glance.

“Several years ago Mary Karen and I found ourselves in the same situation you’re in right now.”

“She was pregnant when you married?”

He nodded. “With twins. I’d always thought I didn’t want children.”

She thought of his patience with the five rambunctious kids under his roof. Of the love in his eyes when his gaze settled on his children, his wife. “You’re so good with them.”

“Marrying Mary Karen and becoming a dad were the best things that ever happened to me.” He looked Poppy square in the eye. “What about your baby’s father? Where does he fit in this picture?”

Poppy shifted in her seat. “He doesn’t know.”

“Is he aware pregnancy is a possibility?” The kindness in Travis’s voice brought back the threatening tears.

Poppy started to shake her head then stopped, remembering Ben’s phone message. “We haven’t been together since...in a while.”

He stared at her for a long moment. She wondered if Travis suspected it was Ben they were discussing.

“Do you know what you’re going to do?” He spoke casually, as if they were simply talking over a glass of wine or cup of coffee.

“Do about what?”

“About the baby.” Travis’s eyes never left her face. “You have options.”

The underlying question didn’t initially register. When it did, her hand moved protectively to her flat belly. “I don’t want an abortion if that’s what you’re asking.”

Hot fury filled her voice.

“That’s one option,” Travis said easily. “But I was speaking more of adoption. There are lots of couples looking for a baby to love.”

Maybe so, Poppy thought, but in her heart she knew that no one could love this child more than she would. “That’s not an option, either. I want this child.”

“You’ll be a excellent mother.” Travis gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze. He went on to explain what she could expect in the upcoming months, both in terms of office visits and in bodily changes. As if he understood how hard she pushed herself, he emphasized the importance of proper rest.