The Baby Who Saved Dr Cynical. Connie Cox

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      Jason would recognize that walk anywhere. Steady, confident and competent. In her customary high heels, she reached his chin. He only had to dip his head to meet her, mouth-to-mouth.

      She walked with purpose. She did everything with purpose.

      Directness was one of the qualities he admired about her—along with her body, her hair, her smell. He admired everything about her except her decision to break it off with him.

      Her long, straight mink-brown hair was gathered into a low ponytail today.

      It had been four weeks and two days since he’d freed it from its bindings and wrapped it around him like a waterfall in the privacy of her bedroom.

      “I’ll be joining you on this case, Dr. Drake.”

      “You’re the boss.” Not that he answered to any man—or woman. He knew his purpose in life. Grabbing people back from the abyss of death had nothing to do with administrative rules or regulations.

      Still, she was good at what she did: juggling patient care, internal politics and financial budgets. He had to admit his life ran much more smoothly with her in charge.

      What was different about her lately?

      Did her eyes look deeper? Her face rounder? Was she glowing? She might have put on a few pounds. He couldn’t be certain with her open lab coat covering her button-down shirt and straight fitted skirt. If so, they looked good on her.

      “I’m Dr. Montclair.” Stephanie introduced herself, giving equal attention to daughter and mother.

      “Please call me Anne, and this is Maggie.” Maggie’s mom stood and shook hands.

      Stephanie crouched down to Maggie’s eye level as the child sat in her bed. “How are you today, Maggie?”

      Maggie looked past Stephanie and stuffed her doll’s hand into her mouth.

      “I’m going to listen to your heart, okay?” She unwrapped her stethoscope from her lab coat pocket and hung it around her neck.

      At Sheffield Memorial it was policy that each doctor on a case would check vitals and make independent assessments. Attention to such details was one of the key factors that made Sheffield Memorial such a renowned teaching and research hospital, even if it was much smaller than most public institutions.

      Despite Stephanie’s cheerful tone and slow movements, Maggie whimpered and drew back.

      Anne spoke up. “She only lets Dr. Drake do that.”

      Jason frowned. He hadn’t realized. Maggie had no reason to like him or trust him. He hadn’t asked for that. He only wanted to assess her symptoms, identify the problem and fix it.

      Stephanie stepped back. “What if I listen to Mom’s heart first?”

      Maggie shook her head. An emphatic no.

      Anne stroked her daughter’s hair to calm her. “Could Dr. Montclair listen to Dr. Drake’s heart, then?”

      The child grinned around the doll in her mouth.

      He and Stephanie hadn’t touched, even to brush hands, since their break-up. The anticipation of her hands on him made his skin quiver.

      He took a step back. “If we need to forgo this I can debrief you with all Maggie’s vitals as well as her current condition before the diagnostics meeting, Dr. Montclair.”

      “I appreciate that. Now, let’s set a good example for Maggie and try the stethoscope.” Stephanie fitted the earpieces and waggled her finger at Jason to come closer. “Stand still and take a deep breath, Dr. Drake.”

      When she placed her hand on his chest, the single layer of material between them did nothing to stop a spark arcing between her hand and his heart. He concentrated on keeping his heart-rate steady but failed miserably. He could feel the pounding in his ears. What kind of example would he set for Maggie if he grabbed Stephanie and bolted from the room with her at her very proper touch?

      Stephanie was having no problem being steady, cool and in control.

      Using great discipline, he controlled his breathing, steadily in and out. His professional reputation was at stake.

      Stephanie gave him a worried look but said nothing.

      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 СКАЧАТЬ