style="font-size:15px;"> Finally, she dropped her hands and turned to Maggie. “Your turn?”
Aside from a grimace, the girl didn’t protest this time.
“Now let me take your pulse, Dr. Drake.” She held out her hand for his wrist.
No sense in fighting the inevitable. When she asked, he could deny her nothing.
Her warm, open palm held him as captive as a set of handcuffs. The pad of her fingers rocked back and forth until she found the throbbing in his wrist.
Would she notice if his heart skipped a beat or two?
“Thank you, Dr. Drake.” She turned back to Maggie, who appeared to be avidly looking to the left of their little charade. “Your turn, Maggie. May I hold your arm?”
To Jason’s amazement, Maggie held out her wrist. This was the first response she’d made to anyone’s request since she’d been hospitalized. From the sudden alertness in her mother’s eyes, this was unexpected for Anne, too.
Stephanie found the girl’s pulse and counted.
“Thank you, Maggie.” The moment Stephanie released her arm Maggie put it under the covers.
“Perfect,” she told the girl. “Now, let’s check ears and eyes. Dr. Drake, if you’ll sit, please?” She pointed to the visitor’s chair beside the bed.
Maggie scrambled to turn herself onto her side and peer through the railings to watch. Observing and analyzing Maggie’s movements helped distract Jason from the intimacy of his own examination. If Maggie could so easily pull her legs under her and twist sideways, why couldn’t she walk? She had once been able to run around the house without hesitation. How did her late ambulatory development factor in?
“Ears first.” Stephanie leaned over him, her breasts inches from his mouth. He swallowed hard to keep from drooling.
Her featherlight touch tickled the rim of his ear.
As Stephanie leaned close to look, her sweet breath warmed his neck.
Every primal cell in his body screamed for him to pick her up, throw her over his shoulder and take her back to his lair. For Maggie’s sake he kept himself still and unresponsive, although his clenched palms had begun to sweat.
“That didn’t bother you a bit, did it, Dr. Drake?”
“No, not at all.” He forced the lie past his gritted teeth.
“Now, let’s take a look at your eyes.”
There was no way Jason could hide the dilation of his pupils—a physiological reaction to his desire. To distract himself, he silently listed the noble gasses from the periodic table while congratulating himself on his own noble restraint.
Stephanie’s intense scrutiny made him want to wince away, but her hand on his shoulder held him still. Once she was satisfied with what she saw she released him. He sank back into the chair, so tense every nerve-ending twanged like over-tightened guitar strings.
Stephanie showed no signs of being affected at all. As if they were nothing but colleagues and had never been lovers. As if he’d never made her scream his name into the night, or washed breakfast dishes beside her in the morning.
What had he done besides miss a dinner date or two? Duty had called. She’d grown up in a doctors’ household. Surely she understood? It had to be something more.
“Your turn, Maggie.” Stephanie moved from chair to bedside.
Maggie began to protest by grunting, and waving the hand that didn’t hold her doll, but when Jason enfolded her fluttering hand in his she settled down and let Stephanie shine a light into her eyes as she stared at the wall past her mother.
“All done.” Stephanie stuck the small light into her lab coat pocket. “You’re a very brave girl, Maggie.”
At her name, Maggie slid her glance past Stephanie to rest slightly to the right. She held out her doll in an obvious invitation to be friends.
Careful to avoid the doll’s wet chewed hand, Stephanie took the ratty-haired toy and cradled it in her arms, giving the honor proper tribute. She gave the doll a pat and reverently tucked it into bed beside Maggie. “Thank you, Maggie. I’ll come back and visit soon.”
Stephanie would be a good mother. Jason’s thoughts startled him so much he stood abruptly. He’d never thought of motherhood and Stephanie Montclair in the same breath before.
She had a demanding job and a busy social schedule. How could she add motherhood to the mix, even if she wanted to? And then there was the little issue of who would father her child.
He had the strangest urge to volunteer.
First his disturbing emotional reaction to his patients and now this? No, he was not cut out to be a family man, much as he might daydream about it. He had enough past history to prove he did more harm than good in that role. He really needed to make arrangements for a few days off soon …
“Diagnostics meeting starts in five minutes.” He walked to the door to get Stephanie moving in that direction.
“If there’s anything I or my staff can do to make your stay more comfortable, let me know,” Stephanie said to Maggie’s mother, sounding like the concierge of an expensive hotel. Was she really that worried about the fall-off of patients?
She probably was. Sheffield Memorial was her family’s legacy—something she took very seriously. There was nothing she wouldn’t do to make it thrive. Next thing he knew she would be sending in staff to put mints on the patients’ pillows.
Drake couldn’t fault her. If he’d had a legacy of any sort he might feel the same. But mongrels like him had no birthright to speak of. And the heritage he did have was better off left unspoken.
As soon as the door latched behind him, she stopped him with a hand to his arm, sending tingles to the soles of his feet. “Before we talk about the girl, I want you to get a physical. Your heart rate is too fast and your blood pressure is elevated.”
“I’m fine.”
“That’s a direct order. Got it?”
Protesting wouldn’t get him back on her good side. “Fine. I’ll get it checked out. I didn’t know you cared.”
“Of course I care. This hospital is in enough trouble with the media without one of our physicians dropping dead in the hallway because he neglected his own health.”
“Your concern is touching.” He put distance between them, but his arm still tingled where her hand had been.
Stephanie used all her will-power to keep from reaching out and pulling him back to her.
She craved the vibrations he sent through her when he touched her, the deep-seated sense of wellbeing and protection he gave her whenever he was near. But he had proved to her too many times that it was a false sense of security.
She couldn’t count on him to keep a dinner date, much less a vow of happily-ever-after.
