What The Cowboy Prescribes.... Mary Starleigh

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      The cold glass soaked the heat from his hot flesh. Sitting across from Meg Graham had made his hands warm and sweaty. With all the talk about being a doctor and whether he planned to go back to medicine, the top of Steve’s head felt like it was about to blow off.

      “I’m not a doctor anymore.” Those words were his mantra now. And at times like this they felt right. He picked up the glass and drained it. Then he pushed the wooden chair back and stood.

      She gave him a sincere look. “Sorry to hear that.” Her brown, velvety eyes filled with compassion.

      Meg’s words soothed him for a moment. He did miss his old life, but it was better this way.

      “I need to get back to the house. Thanks for the tea and the use of your phone.” He crossed to the door. The screen squeaked as he pushed it open.

      Steve heard her chair scoot against the linoleum, and he turned back. She picked up the empty glasses and made her way to the sink, her hips swaying.

      A fiery blaze started in the pit of his stomach.

      If he was in any mood to be attracted to a woman, it would be Meg Graham. She possessed a delicate yet strong face and a sensuous mouth. And her body…

      His eyes stroked over her full, lush curves.

      Indulging himself a moment longer, he let his gaze slide up slowly, admiring every tempting inch. Meg was sexy. Steve thought of soft skin and sweet scents. It would be easy to let his problems fade away, with her in his arms.

      With no hesitation, he imagined Meg without a stitch of clothing. He liked what his mind conjured up, and the need to get Meg into his arms rushed through him.

      She faced him, her lips curled in an inviting smile. “Have you decided where you’re going to sleep?”

      The tightness in his jeans increased. “Uh…in my car.”

      “Oh, no!” Her chin tipped up, showing her smooth, curved throat.

      His mouth went dry and his thoughts swirled with wonder. What would it be like to kiss her porcelain skin and let his lips trail down to the sweet indentation at the beginning of her throat?

      “That’s bound to be uncomfortable. There’s not much room in the back seat of a BMW, is there?”

      “I don’t know.” The answer hung in the air between them.

      “Well, back seats aren’t all…that comfortable.” Meg’s cheeks flushed. “Not that I’ve been in the back seat of a car in years.…”

      Hot summer nights and Meg!

      His body pulsed with the need to hold her in his arms. What the heck was he thinking about? He needed to keep his mind on his house, his new life.

      “There aren’t any motels close by. I want to start on the house repairs early tomorrow.”

      She leaned back, her right hand resting on the curve of her hip. “I have plenty of room right here, and it’s next door. Why don’t you stay with me?”

      “What?” The offer sent a powerful sensual message to his brain. He and Meg together!

      “My guest room is warm and clean, and it sure is a heck of a lot more roomy than—”

      “That would be too much trouble.” Good sense told him he needed to stay away from Meg, yet he knew that wasn’t going to be easy.

      “You won’t be any trouble. I’m hardly ever home. And you don’t have to worry about the rent. Around Jackson we barter a lot. I get bread, pies, even eggs for my services.”

      “I don’t have anything to trade.”

      She smiled again and his heart beat faster. She was so pretty and sweet…so sincere.

      “Sure you do. Everyone has something someone else wants.”

      Right now all he wanted from Meg was to hold her and kiss her pleasing lips.

      “While you’re working on the Lemon House maybe you can help me with a few odd jobs around here.”

      Her practical suggestion made Steve realize a soft, clean bed would be better than the back seat of his car. And he’d have access to a working bathroom. Yet he’d vowed to stay far away from anyone who had anything to do with medicine. Meg Graham, he’d learned already, was a dedicated doctor.

      “Come on. You’ll be doing me a favor.” Her soft, feminine voice feathered against his reserve like smooth silk. With eyes closed, Meg took a deep breath, and the action melted a thin layer of ice surrounding his heart. For a moment, Steve forgot where they were.

      “How would I be doing you a favor?” he asked.

      She opened her eyes and crinkled her nose. “The house repairs.”

      “I don’t have any experience with what you’re talking about.”

      “It doesn’t matter. I’m a patient woman. I’ll get you a key.” She went to the teddy bear cookie jar on the counter and took off its baseball cap lid. “This fits both the front and back doors.” She crossed the kitchen and held out the extra key.

      He knew he shouldn’t, but he let his fingers uncurl. She placed the warm metal in his palm, and he stared at the key. Meg could talk a blind man into buying eyeglasses.

      If he did a few odd jobs around her place, he wouldn’t be obligated in any way. And in a few days, he’d be only her neighbor, not her houseguest.

      As if to negate his last thought she laughed. “It’s official. You’re my roommate. And once you get the Lemon House livable, you won’t have far to move.”

      Steve thought about giving back the key, but she’d crossed to the sink.

      “Go ahead and bring your stuff in,” Meg nonchalantly called over her shoulder. “I only have one bathroom, so we’ll have to share.” She turned on the water, which pumped from the faucet full blast. She hummed a familiar tune and her hips swayed to the melody.

      Steve forced himself to stop gazing at those sensual undulations. If he was going to live with this mesmerizing woman for a few days, he had to draw a line. He made his way to the door and stepped out into the September night, wondering if he was in his right mind, accepting her invitation.

      A mixture of emotions coursed through his veins. Sure, it would be convenient living just up the road from his house. But common sense told him he shouldn’t let himself get any closer to Meg.

      She sat on the couch and wondered if her earlier prediction was coming true. Maybe she was going off the deep end. Why in the world had she asked Steve Hartly to stay at her house? She’d never done anything like this in her life. But an uncanny feeling told her everything would be okay. She could trust Steve.

      And she couldn’t let him stay in his car, or worse, the Lemon House. She gulped and forced herself to think realistically. With Steve Hartly on staff, she could keep her clinic open. And she might be able to get some much-needed sleep. The last thought СКАЧАТЬ