Family Practice

“The divorce was for the best.”

“Still, I’m sorry.”

He placed a warm, gentle hand on top of hers, in comfort, she supposed. “Don’t be sorry, Kara. It takes the magic out of your eyes.”

“The magic?”

He slowly, as though reluctant, withdrew his hand from hers. “There’s something special and effervescent about you. It dances in your eyes.”

If he was trying to put the moves on her, it was working in a way she hadn’t anticipated, hadn’t encountered before. Every reasonable bone in her body begged her to retreat, but some mysterious inner voice urged her to listen. To draw closer. To see if she could find magic in his eyes.

“Thank you.”

He caught her chin with the tip of his finger. “That wasn’t a line. You have a wholesome vitality I’ve rarely seen.”

Before Kara could summon the words to speak or the strength to look away, a souped-up engine roared into the small neighborhood. An amplified stereo blared as the vehicle entered the gravel parking lot. The door opened and shut, but the engine continued to run, and the sounds of heavy metal blasted throughout the sleepy neighborhood.

Jason was back.

Michael didn’t usually dislike people he’d never met, but in Baker’s case, he’d make an exception.

The wave of anxiety that crossed Kara’s face made Michael want to stomp outside and chase that damned idiot away. What kind of guy pursued a woman who wasn’t interested? He had half a notion to call the police but kept his seat.

He reached across the table and took Kara’s hand. Her fingers clutched his, and he felt the need to keep her safe. To chase all the bad guys away.

What a crazy thought. He was no hero. He was just a doctor. A man who held his emotions in check. A man who, by necessity, held himself at a distance. A man who didn’t need to become involved with anyone for a long time, if ever again.

As tires spun in the drive and Jason peeled out in a show of frustration, Kara released his hand and smiled. “I guess I’d better go.”

Before Kara had come for dinner, Michael had entertained thoughts of having her spend the night, but now his intent was more to protect her than to pursue the passion that flared between them. Not that desire for her had left him, by any means. If anything, he found her more attractive, more precious. “I don’t like the idea of you being over there alone.”

She scooted her chair from the table and stood, then gathered the plates and silverware they’d used and carried them to the sink. “Jason’s not dangerous. He’s just bothersome. If he comes back, I’ll pretend I’m not home.”

“If he comes back, I’ll be outside before he climbs from the truck.” Michael grabbed the empty wine bottle, laced the stems of the goblets between his fingers and followed her to the sink. “Don’t worry about the dishes.”

“All right,” she said, fidgeting with the dish towel that lay on the counter. She looked at him, eyes catching his and drawing him into their depths.

He cupped her cheek to offer comfort. To convey friendship. Or so he told himself. His thumb made a slow, gentle circle on her skin. Her eyes widened, and her breath quickened. Not in fear or discomfort, he surmised, but in a surprised reaction similar to his own.

Not intending to force the obvious attraction, he placed a light kiss on her forehead in an affectionate manner—friendly and brotherly. That’s what he’d meant it to be, what he had convinced himself was appropriate. Sure, early on, he’d thought about a passionate evening, even had a new box of condoms tucked into the drawer in his nightstand, but he’d thought the decision to have sex would be mutual. Seducing Kara wasn’t his intent.

His face lingered above the spot on her forehead where he’d kissed her. The melon scent of shampoo taunted him, as did the subtle peach fragrance she wore, tempting him to distraction. He lifted his head and stepped back, his eyes watching her reaction to his neighborly gesture.

Her lips parted, more in surprise than in an effort to prompt him for another kiss, one more than neighborly. In spite of the fact that he had no intention of taking advantage of her, the desire to taste her sweetness was more than he could ignore.

He tried to brush a light kiss across her dusky lips, but as he lowered his head, he drew her close. She whimpered softly and leaned into him in a move so natural, so gentle, he had no idea why it unleashed such a powerful desire for her touch, her embrace.

She tasted like sunshine and moonbeams, snowflakes and raindrops. Mountain meadows and morning dew—everything that was right with the world. But before he could take the kiss further, catch a glimpse of the places passion could take them, she pushed her hands against his chest and broke the soul-stirring spell.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice husky and soft.

Sorry? She was sorry? He was the one who had kissed her. The one who had planned a seduction, of sorts. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

She stepped away from him, pink-tinged cheeks, a telltale, sensual flush along her neck and chest. “I don’t know why I let that happen.”

Let that happen? Shoot, Michael doubted either one of them could have kept that from happening, not once their lips touched and the power of what they felt had been unleashed.

“Do you have a boyfriend?” he asked. “I mean, other than Jason.” The question surprised him, since it really wasn’t any of his business. Yet for some reason, it seemed to matter a great deal.

She appeared to ponder his question or maybe her answer. The slow response caused him an odd sense of discomfort.

“No,” she said, as though choosing her words slowly. “I’ve never really stayed in one place long enough for any kind of friendships to develop. And now that I’ve settled in Harbor Haven, I don’t have time for a relationship like that. I’ve got too much at stake to become involved with anyone right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“Lizzie’s health isn’t good. Her doctor has already told her to cut back on the stress in her life. I try to help whenever I can, but we’re not sure how much longer she’ll be able to care for Eric and Ashley. I’d like to adopt them, but I’ll need to prove myself worthy to the courts. And that could be difficult.”

“Why?” She was good with Eric, and Michael assumed she’d be good with Ashley as well.

“I’m a twenty-four-year-old single waitress. I don’t have a family of my own—no parents, aunts, uncles. And after graduation last June, I don’t have much money left in the bank.” She shrugged. “The list goes on, but I’m pedaling as fast as I can, trying to put myself in an admirable position.”

“I think your objectives are commendable.”

“Thanks, but the courts might not be so understanding. They still prefer two-parent families with steady incomes.” She brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and sighed.

Michael knew there was a lot more to providing for kids than financial stability, but he doubted the court would agree with him. But what did most people know about spending holidays in an exclusive boarding school? Or having a chauffeur deliver a fourteenth birthday gift to camp? “I think kids belong with people who love them and have time to spend with them.”

“Me, too,” she said. “Well, I’d better get going.”

Even though Michael wanted her to stay, wanted to see how far their attraction would go, he knew pursuing any kind of relationship with Kara was out of the question. She’d made it clear that the kids were her priority. And he certainly didn’t need to get involved with anyone right now. Especially not someone who dreamed of warm, intimate, down-home family holidays. Or Christmas trees with handmade decorations.

She paused at the door. “Dinner was delicious. I had a nice time. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” It hadn’t turned out to be the sensual kind of evening he’d originally planned, but it had worked out for the best. Still, he couldn’t seem to shake the memory of the toe-curling kiss they’d shared.

“Maybe we can do it again before you have to leave.”

Do it again? The kiss immediately came to mind, even though he knew they were discussing dinner and friendly conversation. He hoped she hadn’t read his mind, but when she blushed, he realized her thoughts had drifted in the same direction as his.

She offered him a shy smile. “I was referring to dinner.”

“I know.”

He was amazed by her innocence and determination yet realized she had her own battles to fight in Harbor Haven. And he had a hell of a mess to go home to—a practice he needed to rebuild or move across the country and an ex-wife who continued to write him letters of apology for the gut punch she’d given his pride. No, he and Kara had nothing in common. And their differences were legion.

He took her hand and opened the door. “Come on, I’ll walk you home.”

“I told you I’d be okay,” she said, lifting her chin in determination.