Читать книгу The Doctor's Baby Dare - Michelle Celmer, Michelle Celmer - Страница 11

Five

Downstairs in the kitchen the kettle whistled but Clare didn’t move. She stood totally still, her eyes locked on Parker’s, the energy whirling between them electrically charged. Parker knew that he could have her right now if he wanted to. This was the moment he’d been waiting for, but half the fun of a relationship was the chase. No matter who was doing the running. And call him a megalomaniac, but it would be much more fun if she made the first move. If she came to him.

Just for fun, he dropped his gaze to her mouth. Her chin lifted a fraction and her tongue darted out to wet her lips.

Oh, yeah, she wanted it bad.

“Your water is boiling,” he said.

Clare blinked several times, as if waking from a daydream. “Huh?”

“The kettle, it’s boiling.”

“Oh. I should probably get that,” she said, but she didn’t move. She was waiting for him to kiss her. He could feel the anticipation, see the throb of her pulse at the base of her throat.

A wisp of dark blond hair had escaped the messy bun she wore, so he reached up and tucked the silky-soft strand back in. Clare’s breath caught and her pupils dilated, and as the tips of his fingers brushed the shell of her ear, she leaned into his palm. He realized, with spine-tingling awareness, that this was the first time he’d touched her. They had bumped shoulders or elbows a time or two while treating a patient, and he’d held her hand to pull her up on the steps today. Touching her felt exciting, and a little naughty.

Her skin was just as smooth and soft as he thought it would be, and damn, she smelled good. He knew that if he kept touching her this way the chase would end right here, right now.

He dropped his hand to his side. “You need a push?”

She blinked with confusion. “A push?”

“To get the kettle. I don’t think it’s going to turn itself off.”

“Right, the kettle,” she said, peeling her eyes from his, taking a slightly unsteady step back. The truth was, he was feeling a little unsteady himself.

He gestured her through the office doorway, and she shook her head. “Uh-uh. There’s no way I’m taking my eyes off you for even a second,” she said. “Next thing I know you’ll be going through my closet or something. You’re too sneaky.”

And she was way too much fun.

He went down first, with Clare watching him like a hawk. When they got to the kitchen, Clare shut off the burner, never once turning her back on him. Not that he blamed her.

“I’m going to head out,” he told her.

Her look of disappointment made him smile. “I thought you were staying for tea.”

“Watch yourself, Clare, or I might have to assume you like having me around.”

“We wouldn’t want that,” she said, but it was too late. It was written all over her face. “Thanks for the ride home. And dinner.”

“My pleasure.” And boy, did he mean that. He walked to the door and pulled his wool coat on. Clare met him in the foyer.

“Do you need a ride to work tomorrow?” he asked her.

“I can use my aunt’s car until she gets back next week. I don’t like relying on other people.”

“And you’re afraid that someone will see us together and get the wrong idea.” Or the right one.

She folded her arms across what he was sure were a perfect pair of breasts. And he would know soon enough. “We never did discuss Janey.”

“Good night, Parker.”

He winked. “Good night, hot stuff.”

Her eye roll was the last thing he saw as she closed the door. Oh, yeah, she was definitely into him. As if there had ever been a question.

* * *

Clare lay awake half the night, and the other half she spent dreaming about Parker. It was as if she couldn’t escape him, no matter how hard she tried. Not even when she was sleeping. He was starting to get under her skin. And that was a very bad thing.

The absence of any physical contact between them had been her secret weapon, but he’d taken care of that, hadn’t he? The warm weight of his palm against her cheek had been unexpected and startling and so erotic that the resulting surge of estrogen had short-circuited the logic pathways in her brain. It was a wonder smoke hadn’t billowed out of her ears. She had been positive that he was going to kiss her, then he didn’t and she didn’t quite understand why.

She got out of bed late, pulling her hair back into a ponytail and dressing in her warmest jogging outfit. According to the weather report she had seen online last night, the daytime high would barely break thirty degrees. She was so ready for spring and warmer weather.

Her breath crystalized and the icy air burned her lungs as she stepped out the back door onto the multilevel deck. She crossed the yard to a gate, which led right to the jogging path.

She was getting warmed up, stretching her hamstrings, when she heard a familiar voice, using a really bad fake Southern accent.