Smooth Irish (Book 2 of the Weldon Series) (32 page)

"I don't think I can take anymore present." He
reached for her instead and pulled her half into his bed for a
blistering kiss.

“Let’s figure out how we’re going to conceive
junior’s sibling,” he mumbled against her mouth, reaching for the
buttons to her shirt. Jackson might be one handed, but he was very
adept anyway.

“You already know how,” she said swatting at his
hand.

“There are so many delicious ways to get there that
it’s going to take years to decide.” She groaned and he managed to
undo her top two buttons.

She tried to scoot back off the bed. “If you aren’t
careful, I’m going to tie you up with your support ropes.”

“Promise?” he asked with an interested gleam in his
eyes, leaving no doubt what he wanted her to do after she tied him
up.”

“Ahem. I hate to interrupt, but I’ve only have a
minute.”

Surprised to see Brad at the door, Nan jumped up.
The top of her shirt flopped open and she snatched it closed.

Brad raised his brows about ten notches. “I see
you’re in good hands, Weldon.”

“The best,” Jackson said and Nan swatted his good
arm.

“Uh, Brad, uh, did you need to see me about
something?” Nan asked. Red-hot embarrassment burned through
her.

Brad shook his head. “I came to see Weldon. I
received a woman into the OR earlier, by the name of Angela
Simmons. I think this belongs to you.” Brad held up Jackson’s belt
then laid it in a chair by the door. “I had to go in and repair her
femoral artery. The vascular surgeon was held up by the tornado and
she couldn't wait. I took care of her artery problem then the
orthopedic surgeon fixed her femur. Maybe the rumors in Chicago
about your skills weren’t too far off the mark.”

“I didn’t do anything more than what another trained
professional would have done.”

“Maybe. But then, maybe someone else wouldn’t have
been as quick to diagnose the problem and she didn’t have much
time, especially in the middle of having a baby. I think your
decision to walk away from medicine was a bad one.”

“Maybe it was,” Jackson said.

Brad turned to go, then stuck his head back in.
“Made her your world, huh?”

“You got it,” Jackson replied. Brad left and Jackson
shook his head. “Maybe there is hope for him yet.”

Nan narrowed her eyes. “What’s this about
world?”

Jackson latched his good arm around her bottom and
kneaded her closer. “Nothing. Now where were we before he
interrupted?”

“You were opening my present, which you had better
finish or else.”

“I think I like the sound of your “or else,” he
said, but reached into the box and pulled out a black velvet
box.

“What’s this?” He opened it revealing the simple
gold bands she'd bought. It was a set of wedding rings.

She took his hand and leaned down to look into his
stunned blue eyes. “Jack, will you marry me, for better or worse,
for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health?”

She heard his answer loud and clear in the kiss he
leveled on her. The tornado had nothing on him.

Epilogue

Jackson laid his stethoscope against his patient's
back and listened to her lungs. Then he straightened with a smile.
"Well, Mrs. Cooper, I pronounce you well. You sound as clear as a
bell."

"Humph. Don't feel that spry. These seventy year old
bones are protesting every move I make."

"You taking that calcium I prescribed?"

"Every day, as regular as the sun rises."

"Have you been down to the new senior's center
yet?"

"What do I want to fool around with those folks for?
Probably don't do much else but gossip and complain about their
aches. I've got enough of my own thank you very much."

"I hear they've opened up their heated pool. It has
a special section set up for water aerobics. I'll bet you lunch
that if you took a twenty-minute class twice a week, within a month
your bones would ache less. Bones need to move some not to hurt and
sitting at home alone doesn't help them. Did I tell you that
they've a gourmet cook in on Wednesdays that teaches you how to
prepare simple, tasty meals?"

Mrs. Cooper narrowed her weathered eyes. "What's his
name?"

"Hers," Jackson said, grinning. "It's Weldon. Nan
Weldon. She's my wife and the best cook around, excepting for my
Dad's BBQ and my Mom's biscuits."

"Your wife? I might have a few minutes to wander
over that way."

"She'd like to meet you. I'll have the nurse set
your next appointment up three months from now, but if you get to
feeling under the weather, you get in here to see me. You almost
waited too late with that cold. Pneumonia isn't fun."

"I hear ya."

"Good." Jackson helped Mrs. Cooper off the examining
table and walked with her out to the reception desk.

"Mrs. Cooper was your last patient today, Dr.
Weldon," said the new receptionist they'd recently hired for the
Midtown Clinic. She was organized and cheerful, a good plus for the
office.

"How are Dr. Sanchez and Dr. Thornton holding
out?"

"They're all caught up."

"Any walk-ins?"

"No, sir."

"Then I'll head home. Dr. Sanchez is on call this
evening. Did you fax the new schedule to the answering
service?"

"Already done. And I've put the charts for
tomorrow's patients on your desk."

"Great. I'll see you in the morning," Jackson said
and went to ditch his stethoscope and collect his briefcase. He
left the clinic with an eager sense of anticipation heating his
blood. He had a surprise for Nan. He’d picked the package up at the
Travel Agency during his lunch break and couldn’t wait to deliver
it. He'd get home, take a shower and then figure out just how he
would clue her into the fantasy he had planned.

* * *

“Nan! We've rats in our new house. I can’t believe
it!” Jackson came into the room holding three shredded rolls of
toilet paper in his hands. He'd just showered and had Nan's
surprise in his back pocket, but rats took precedent.

“Shh.” Nan pressed her finger to her lips then
pointed at little Jason Weldon curled up asleep in his crib.

“He’s already asleep?” Jackson whispered
disappointed.

“For an hour or two. You’re going to be busy
anyway.”

“Yeah, like finding an exterminator to get rid of
the rats.”

“We don’t have rats. The cabinet door must have been
left open.”

“And?

“Shakespeare. He loves to sharpen his claws that
way.”

“That cat,” Jackson muttered turning around.

“Where are you going?”

“I’m going to the pet store to buy some mice. It’s
about time somebody taught Shakespeare how to be a real
man-cat.”

Nan had pictures of Jackson on all fours trying to
teach Shakespeare how to chase a mouse. “I have a better idea. Come
look.” Jackson had been gone all day and she couldn't wait to get
her hands on him. She led him to the room she’d picked for her
office. “Sit here,” she ordered, pointing to an office chair.

He sat, puzzlement furrowing his brow. “What is
it?”

“Shut your eyes and relax a minute while I get
things ready to show you.”

“What?”

“Trust me. Just do it and don’t move.”

Jackson shut his eyes. Anticipation spiking her
excitement, Nan took out a silk tie. She tied on wrist then pulled
his arm behind him and tied his other wrist, effectively
handcuffing him. "Nan?"

"Don't peek."

His eyes popped open. “Nan? What are you up to?”

“This.” She clicked the CD player on. The slow
sensual music she’d chosen filled the room. She dropped the terry
cloth robe, revealing the silk teddy she’d bought.

"Uh, sugar, before we get into this there's
something in my pocket you need to see."

Nan smiled. "I bet there is." She shimmied her
breasts, his gaze lowered and his eyes gleamed.

Then he shook his head. "Really. It's in my back
pocket. Can you get it out? I'm sort of tied up at the moment."

"Back pocket?" She moved closer to him, straddled
his long legs and reached around him, making sure her breasts
rubbed his chest. She pulled out the packet. "What's this?"

Her heart sped up a beat at the surprise. Out of all
the things on her personal list of fun things to do, travel was the
only one she hadn't made happen yet. She'd never been anywhere but
South Georgia.

"A trip," he said grinning.

She jiggled up and down, kissing the packet of
papers. "Really? Where to?" She opened the brochure.

"Maui, sugar."

"Hawaii! Oh, Jack!" She thumbed through the papers,
more than thrilled. Then she noticed something wrong. "There's only
one plane ticket."

"That's right, sugar."

"But…I can't…I couldn't go without you." Tears
sprang to her eyes and she closed the brochure. "I'll wait until we
can both go."

"No, sugar. You need to go. You have to go. The
beach is perfect. Hot. Very Hot. And deserted. It's a private
residence and beach."

Nan shook her head, swallowing the lump of
disappointment in her throat. "It sounds perfect, but it won't be
any fun without you."

"You won't need me, sugar. Rumor has it that there's
this ultra sexy guy who lives in the beach house next store."

"Jack, this isn't funny. Now stop kidding around."
Nan tossed the brochure on her desk and glared at him. She was fast
losing her mood to get her hands on him in any sexual way.

"No really. This guy, he likes watching women
sunbathe in the nude, uh, a particular woman that is. He likes to
see the sun glistening off her oiled body. In fact, I'm pretty sure
he sits there and fantasizes about tasting the woman. She'd smell a
little like coconuts. Her flesh would be hot from the sun, hot and
moist. He'd sit there, watching her, until he couldn't stand it for
another minute. Then he'd walk down to the beach. She'd look up at
him and say--"

"You want me, baby, don't you?" Nan said,
understanding dawning. Her fantasy. He’d set up her fantasy and she
had no doubt he’d be the man next door watching her naked on the
beach.

Jackson lifted a brow. "Depends on what you're
offering, sugar?" He ran his gaze over her, examining the teddy she
wore with interest.

She began to move her body in gentle erotic ways,
giving him a little hint of what she had to offer. Moving over to
him, she slid her breasts against his arm, kissed his ear with her
tongue, and ran her finger over the emerging bulge in his
pants.

“I think you like this.”

He shrugged. “Maybe.”

Nan only smiled. He was so smooth, but she could see
the gleam in his devilish blue eyes. He had the look of a man
intent on having her. She wondered just how long he’d hold out on
that maybe. She also wondered just how long he'd hold out watching
her sunbathe in the nude. She gave him five minutes before he'd be
on the beach, picking her up. It was going to be an interesting
trip.

Grinning, she slid the straps of her teddy off her
shoulders and cupped her breasts as she stood in front of him. His
shoulders jerked as he fought against the bindings and he grabbed
his bottom lip between his teeth.

"Come, here, sugar." His voice was husky with
need.

Nan pouted. "Not yet. I'm still having fun." She
slid a finger down her stomach, under the satin crotch of her
teddy, and edged the satin aside, giving him a tiny glimpse.
"Remember Black Jack the pirate? Remember his poor captured bride
to be that he didn't think he wanted? You offered your body up for
research."

He groaned and she smiled. She planned to test him
to his limits and beyond.

USA Today Bestselling Author Jennifer
Saints

This bewitching Georgia Peach is anything
but ordinary. She’s a mother, nurse, thriller writer, award-winning
paranormal/romance/contemporary author, passionate patriot, event
planner and more! She’s also home schooled three children and is
the Vice-President of a charitable foundation which helps women and
children’s causes and in her spare time she writes screenplays!

Jenni, in her own
words
:

Under a barrage of nagging by BFF’s, I’ve
been told my bio was boring, not at all a reflection of just who I
am beneath the surface, which is a compliment…I think. So, I
promised to rev it up a bit. Thus the reason why I’m sitting here
staring at the computer screen with nothing but crickets in my
brain. I’m totally into making up wild and interesting stories with
a lot of heart thrown into the mix, but telling people about myself
isn’t so easy. What can I tell you about me?

I don’t play video games or watch horror
because I can’t take the heat, but give me a kickass thriller every
minute of every day and I am there. Be prepared for a Hoover Dam
meltdown if you’re with me and the movie is sad. So, to avoid
disaster, I love romantic comedies.