Heart of Ice. Diana Palmer
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“I’m fine,” she said. “Now, I’d better get back to my desk.” She turned to leave.
“Nat!”
“Yes, sir?”
“First of all, stop calling me sir.”
“Yes, Doctor,” she said.
Patrick regarded her in confusion. He was much better at formulating goals and taking command than at reading people, especially the people closest to him. “We need to discuss where we stand.”
Natalie took a deep breath, a movement that swelled her generous breasts. Patrick’s hands still retained an impression of their softness, centered by the stiff arousal of her nipples. Oh, he was sure in control of himself today, wasn’t he, he thought wryly.
“I was hoping we wouldn’t have to talk about last night,” she said.
Patrick respected her privacy, but he felt he owed her. “Please, have a seat. If I offended you last night, I apologize.”
“You didn’t. Not at all.” Natalie perched on the edge of an upholstered chair. “It was just as much my fault.”
“I’m your employer, which makes the responsibility all mine.”
“Look, Dr. Barr.” She leveled her blue gaze at him, to devastating effect. He wanted her so much he could hardly breathe. “Let’s pretend the incident never happened.”
“What incident?”
“You and me…on the boat!” Natalie gave an angry little bounce on her chair.
“You’re referring to our lovemaking as an incident?” For Patrick, the experience had been delirious. And, of course, a huge error in judgment.
“I’m being discreet,” Natalie said. “Which is a quality we both lost on your boat, along with our clothes.”
“I agree,” he said reluctantly. “Nevertheless—”
“The point is, we’re simply not suited to each other.” Natalie had retreated behind a mask. “What happened was great, but it was a one-time thing.”
Patrick knew he ought to feel relieved. Her practical attitude meant they could get on with their work, which was what mattered, but he was oddly reluctant to let her go. “We should discuss this over dinner.”
“In this town, if we ate dinner together, everyone would be gabbing about it,” Natalie said.
“We’ve eaten dinner together before,” he said.
“In the cafeteria with stacks of files between us. That doesn’t count.” His secretary stood up. “Look, Dr. Barr, there’s no point in arguing about it. Last night was—what do you call it?—an anomaly. Let’s go back to the way things were. No hard feelings, okay?”
Patrick arose also. His headache had faded, so now he was thinking clearly.
He respected her obvious regret about their liaison. He, too, knew it hadn’t been a good idea, even though a rebellious part of him desperately wanted to repeat the mistake. “You’re sure about this?”
“Yes, Dr. Barr.”
“I have one request,” he said.
“What’s that?” Natalie’s eyes narrowed.
“Call me by my first name,” Patrick said. “You haven’t called me Dr. Barr since the first six months we worked together. People would wonder about it.”
“Okay.” She looked relieved that he hadn’t asked anything more difficult. “Excuse me, I hear someone in the outer office. I’ll go check.”
She sounded like her old, cheerful self. Apparently she was glad he’d agreed not to pursue her.
Good. His brief insanity yesterday hadn’t spoiled their friendship or their highly effective working relationship. The last thing he wanted was for anything to interfere with saving the medical center for which his father had given his life.
NATALIE HELD OPEN Patrick’s door for Spencer Sorrell, chief of the Doctors Circle Well-Baby Clinic. Unlike the pediatric clinic that had vacated its offices downstairs and relocated to a new building down the street, his department was an official arm of the medical center, not merely a tenant.
He’d been grousing a lot lately, mostly about his contention that his department should get the newly remodeled offices. Spencer, who believed he should have become administrator, instead of Patrick, always found something to complain about.
He brushed by Natalie without a word, which didn’t surprise her. The senior pediatrician rarely spoke to her, and when he did, it was in a clipped, impersonal manner, as if she were a robot.
Spencer’s brother, Finn, was the town’s chief of police. Finn knew way too much about Natalie’s family and her past, and it appeared that he’d shared that information with Spencer.
Her cheeks burning, she sat behind her desk. She was angry at Spencer for his snobbery and angry at herself for caring.
Natalie knew better than anyone what an insignificant position she occupied in the social whirl of Serene Beach. That didn’t mean she lacked pride, only that she saw the world as it was.
Well, she didn’t aspire to high society, and she didn’t feel inferior to anyone, either. She only wished she could erase a few parts of her past.
In particular, she wished she hadn’t lied on her job application.
A MONTH LATER, on a Saturday morning, Natalie did something she hadn’t done since she was a little girl. She threw up.
Aware that her period was overdue, she drove to a pharmacy for a pregnancy kit. At home she followed the directions, and a few minutes later found herself staring in disbelief at the pink test strip.
How was this possible? Patrick had used protection both times during their lovemaking.
Yet she knew from working around pregnant women that condoms weren’t infallible. Sometimes they slipped or cracked. That must be what had happened, because she hadn’t slept with another man since her divorce.
A sense of wonder softened Natalie’s dismay. She was carrying Patrick’s child, a wonderful little boy or girl who’d be smart and sweet and loving.
Then she caught sight of herself in the bathroom mirror. She looked almost exactly like a photo of her own mother as a young woman.
“You’re me all over again,” her mother used to say. But, as a teenager, Natalie had resolved that she would never, never repeat Angie’s mistakes. Three deadbeat husbands, five children and an inability to keep a job had created a chaotic household and made Angie’s kids outsiders at school.
Even when Natalie married an older man at the age of twenty-one, she’d been careful not to get pregnant right away. Her caution had been validated when, over the next three years,