SIMON WAS IN HIS OFFICE when he heard the page. He called down to the nurses’ station.
“Montana Hendrix would like to see you, if you have a second.”
The anticipation was instant. A tightening in his body, a rush of heat. He quietly cleared his throat before speaking. “Please send her here,” he said, then hung up the phone and stood.
His office was on the small side, with a desk, a couple of chairs and a mostly empty bookcase. He wasn’t on staff, so he didn’t deal with a lot of paperwork beyond his patient charts. The hospital had provided a computer and printer. He didn’t need much more.
Now, as he looked around at the stark room, he wished it were some color other than plain white, with a picture on the wall or a plant in the corner. Something to make it seem less institutional.
He told himself he was being an idiot. Whatever Montana wanted to talk about, it had nothing to do with his office. No doubt she wanted to discuss bringing a pony into the hospital, or perhaps juggling monkeys. Whatever it was, he would listen. Hearing her discuss a tax audit would be appealing. He liked the sound of her voice, the way she moved her hands when she talked. He liked the flashes of emotion in her brown eyes and the way she always seemed on the verge of smiling.
She was alive in every sense of the word. Alive and vibrant, and she saw a world filled with possibilities. No one had hurt her, not in a way that had left her broken. He found himself wanting to stand between her and reality, to make sure that didn’t change.
He crossed to the door and held it open. A few seconds later Montana turned the corner. She’d replaced her customary summer dresses with jeans and a short-sleeved shirt. Both hugged the shape of her body, showing off curves and making it more difficult than usual for him to maintain any semblance of control.
Her long blond hair hung down her back in a cascade of waves, making him want to tangle his fingers in the silky smoothness. Her smile both pleased and taunted him. He wanted to know the feel of every inch of her. He wanted to know her because in the knowing he believed he would find solace.
“Hi,” she said as she approached. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”
“If you were, I wouldn’t have had the nurse send you to my office.” He motioned for her to step into his office, then followed her. He was careful to leave the door partially open. Perhaps knowing that people could see in would allow him to maintain his distance.
She stopped in the center of the room and turned to face him. Her brown eyes danced with amusement. “You’re not a big believer in social niceties are you?”
“What do you mean?”
“I know that if you were busy, you wouldn’t have seen me. You don’t have to say it.”
“What’s wrong with saying it? It’s the truth.”
She laughed. “I know, but my comment about hoping I wasn’t interrupting was—”
He waited patiently.
“You’re not supposed to say it,” she said.
“Why not?”
“You’re just not.”
“As long as the rules are clear.”
She laughed again and he found himself smiling, even though he couldn’t say why.
“I heard you were in to see Kalinda the other day,” he said. “I appreciate you taking the time.”
The humor faded from her eyes. “Fay called me and sounded pretty desperate. I guess it’s been difficult. I’m glad Cece and I could help. Well, mostly Cece.”
“Having that little dog around makes a difference.”
“I’m glad.”
Somehow they were standing closer together than they had been before. He consciously took a step back, wanting more space between them. No, he thought. Not wanting it, but apparently needing it.
They stared at each other. He could feel the tension crackling in the room. His gaze was riveted on her mouth, and the need to kiss her nearly overwhelmed him. He took another step back.
“Is that why you stopped by?” he asked, his voice sounding more stressed than pleasant.
She blinked. “No. I was thinking about the town. You haven’t seen very much of it. There’s so much more than what you saw on our mini-tour. You’re only here for a short time. It would be a shame for you to miss seeing the real Fool’s Gold.”
“Of course,” he said. “How would my life be complete?”
The humor returned to her eyes. “Mock me all you want, but you just wait. Fool’s Gold is a special place. We have a varied history that includes Spanish pirates and Mayans. Specifically, female Mayans.”
“You mentioned them before. It sounded intriguing.”
“I want to put together some kind of plan for you to see as much as possible. So maybe you should tell me about your hobbies or likes and dislikes.”
He noticed she wasn’t looking at him. She seemed to have become fascinated by the back of his computer monitor. And instead of standing comfortably, she shifted her weight and twisted her fingers together. Almost as if she were nervous.
“I don’t have a lot of hobbies.”
She cleared her throat. “Yes, well, it might not just be for you. It might be about other people.”
“What other people?”
“Your other people.”
She’d lost him. “What are you talking about?”
“Your family. Children.” She paused. “Mrs. Dr. Simon Bradley.” She glanced up at him. “You never said if you were married.”
Now it all made sense. She was worried. He probably shouldn’t like that, but he did. He liked her hesitation and the flush on her cheeks. He liked the implication that the answer to the question was important to her.
“I’m not married.”
Her eyes brightened. “Really?”
“It doesn’t seem to be something I would have forgotten.”
“You’d be amazed how many men do.”
“Are you speaking from personal experience?”
“No. The men in my life haven’t been married. Just not that interested in me.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“You do?”
He took a step toward her. “Very much.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He took another step. “I wouldn’t have kissed you if I were married.”
“That’s what I thought, but I wanted to be sure.”
“Very sensible of you.”
“No one has ever called me sensible before,” she whispered, staring into his eyes. “No one sees me that way.”
He wanted to ask how other people did see her and how she saw herself. He wanted to know everything about her, but those questions were for another time. Right now what was important was being close to her.
He pulled her into his arms. She went willingly, stepping into his embrace with an eagerness that excited him.
They’d done this enough times that the feel of her was familiar. But instead of that making him less interested, he found himself wanting to experience every part of kissing her again and again. He wanted to inhale the scent of her body, to feel her soft mouth against his. He wanted her taste, her curves, all of her.
Their kiss began slowly, almost tentatively, as if they were both taking their time. Lips clung, creating heat that ripped through him before settling in his groin.
He moved his hands up and down her back, then set them on her waist. She tilted her head and parted her lips. The invitation was clear and he began to circle her tongue with his, beginning the erotic dance of desire.
She tasted sweet, like ice cream or candy. Without thinking, without planning, he continued to kiss her deeply while moving his hands higher and higher. Before he knew what he’d done, he’d cupped her breasts, feeling the weight of her full curves.
In the back of his mind, he was aware of the partially open door, of the fact that anyone could see them, but he couldn’t bring himself to stop. Not now that he’d touched her so intimately. He had to know more. He had to know everything.
He explored her curves with his fingers, then brushed his thumbs against her nipples. Relief battled with need when he found they were already tight and hard, visible and tactile proof of her reaction to his touch. He lingered there, rubbing, massaging, then felt the uncomfortable heaviness of his erection when she moaned quietly.
He stretched out one arm and pushed the door shut. The second he heard the latch engage, he drew back from their kiss and pulled up her T-shirt. He unfastened her bra with an easy flick of his surgeon’s trained hands and pushed up her bra as well.
Her breasts were perfect. Full and pale, with pink areolae. He leaned in and took her left nipple in his mouth, sucking deeply.
The taste of her was beyond exquisite. The warmth of her soft skin enticed him. He moved his tongue over and around, savoring everything. He used his hand on her other breast. She rested her fingers on his shoulders.
He was aware of her head falling back, of the quickness of her breathing. He flicked his tongue against her nipple and she moaned. The sound—the most erotic he’d ever heard—was followed by a shudder that swept through her body.
He moved to her other breast. Now her breathing came in pants as she squirmed to get closer. He knew she was wet and swollen, as aroused as he was. It would only take a second to rip off her jeans and panties, to bury himself inside her.
Even at the thought of filling her so deeply he got lost, he was distracted by the thought of how her wetness would feel against his fingers. He wanted to explore her there, to find her most sensitive spot, to tease and rub and circle until she had no choice but to come. He wanted to kiss her intimately, to taste her and do with his tongue what he’d done with his fingers. He wanted her trembling from exhaustion, weak from the pleasure.
From the other side of the door he heard low voices and then laughter. The images of making love with Montana faded as reality returned.
Reluctantly, he straightened. He held her around the waist with both hands and stared into her eyes.
Her gaze was unfocused, her face flushed. She had the look of a woman who wanted a man. He smiled.
“Thank you,” he murmured.
She blinked slowly, as if coming awake. “You’re, ah, welcome. Anytime. Seriously.”
There were more voices. She glanced toward the closed door.
“I forgot where we were,” she admitted.
“I wish I could have.”
He reached for her bra and smoothed it into place. After turning her, he fastened the hooks. She pulled down her T-shirt and faced him.
Her gaze met his. With a mischievous look in her eye, she placed her hand on his belly, then slipped it lower until she cupped his erection. He saw the surprise in her face.
“Wow,” she whispered.
“Did you doubt?”
“Maybe. A little. You’re just so… I’m not really your type.”
“How can you not be my type?” he asked, doing his best to pretend not to care when she moved her hand away. “You’re beautiful and fun.” He shook his head. “You’re right. You’re not my type.”
She tilted her head and the corners of her mouth curved up. “You prefer unattractive women who have no personality?”
“I want to say no, but my past speaks for itself.”
He’d always gone with women who were safe—predictable. Women who would understand the rules. Montana wasn’t like that, but he still couldn’t seem to resist her.
“Mine, too,” she murmured.
He lightly touched her cheek and knew he couldn’t rest until he had her. “I want you. In my bed. Naked. Please say yes.”
It was the most direct invitation Montana had ever heard. Simon’s need was raw. She could see it etched on his face, feel it in the tension in his body. Being desired this much made her weak.
In the past, she’d found herself not feeling as if she was enough. The men she’d fallen for had either left her or tried to change her until she’d been forced to escape, rather than becoming someone else. To be wanted for who and what she was left her practically floating.
She stared into his eyes. “Yes. But not in your bed, if that’s okay. You’re staying at a hotel and I know everyone in town.”
“Then your bed.”
“My bed.”
He leaned in and kissed her again. The contact was short and hot and full of promise.
“Tonight,” he said when he straightened.
She nodded, then gave him her address. They settled on a time.
As she turned to leave, he touched her arm. She looked back at him.
“You know I’m not here for very long.”
He wasn’t talking about the night, she thought sadly. He was warning her about who and what he was. A man who couldn’t or wouldn’t settle down. A man who left.
“I know.”
“I’m going to Peru as soon as I leave here. Nothing about that will change.” She nodded.
She sensed he wanted more of a reaction from her. He wanted her to explain that she was sophisticated and did this sort of thing all the time. That she wouldn’t mind him walking away after their affair was over. But none of that was true, so she simply opened the door and stepped into the hallway.
She might not be that girl, but she also wasn’t going to protect herself at the expense of not knowing what it was like to be in Simon’s arms. She had a feeling that experience would be worth the risk.
MONTANA’S PREVIOUS SEXUAL experiences had been limited to two of her three long-term boyfriends. She’d given her virginity to her college boyfriend, and her battered heart, ironically, to a doctor she’d met during her brief time in Los Angeles. Neither had appreciated the gift.
The former had taught her that a man saying he loved her didn’t mean he would keep his promises. The latter had convinced her she would never be good enough. So it made sense to be wary around Simon. Only she wasn’t.
Standing in front of her closet, trying to figure out what to wear for a date that was pretty much about sex, she knew she probably should be concerned. Simon was well traveled, sophisticated, emotionally distant. Not exactly a great bet. She wasn’t sure what he was looking for in a woman, but she doubted the female in question would be a small town dog trainer.
But Simon was also kind and when she stared into his green-gray eyes, she found herself wanting to get lost in him. Nothing else mattered. She liked his smile, his attention to detail, the way he kissed, how he’d apologized for having a stick up his ass. She wanted to know about his past, his scars and what he most regretted.
She knew she was taking a chance—she’d never given her body lightly. What made her think she could hand it over to a man who’d made it clear he was leaving? Shouldn’t she try to protect herself more? But she couldn’t seem to muster the least bit of self-preservation.
If she was into fooling herself, she would say that making love with him was a way to get to know him better. Maybe that was true, but in reality she wanted Simon in her bed because she had a feeling he was going to take her places she’d never been, and didn’t a girl deserve a little of that in her life?
Which led to her current dilemma. What to wear? Even though they were going to end up in bed, and probably fairly quickly, showing up naked was too aggressive for her. Silky lingerie was an obvious choice, but she didn’t have anything remotely sexy or silky. Her nicest nightgown had been a Christmas present from her mom, and she didn’t think Simon would be blown away by white cotton covered with cartoon dogs. She did, however, own one black lace matching bra and panty set. The panties were actually more G-string than brief, but she could survive that for a couple of hours.
Some kind of dress would be good, she thought, looking through her options. She had a simple blue one that was sleeveless and slightly fitted. The long zipper down the back would make the undressing part of the evening simple. Although, based on how Simon had managed her bra with a quick touch of his fingers, she probably shouldn’t worry about clothing complications.
Still smiling at the thought, she dressed, then checked her makeup. She was wearing enough to make her eyes look bigger, but not so much that she would smear it all over him. Shoes weren’t going to be a problem. She would be barefoot.
A quick glance at the clock confirmed she still had an hour to wait. Anticipation danced in her stomach. Maybe she could call him and suggest he arrive earlier. Or she could—
Her cell phone rang. As she grabbed it, she saw Simon’s name on the screen.
“I was just thinking about you,” she said by way of greeting.
“Montana, I can’t come over. There’s been an accident.”
She sank onto her sofa. “Not with you.”
“No. A guy on a motorcycle. He’s going into surgery now. He has internal injuries. When they’re done, I need to work on his face.” He drew in a breath. “I’m sorry.”
“Me too.”
“I wouldn’t have canceled except—”
“Simon, you don’t have to explain. This is what you do. Saying you have to help someone isn’t unreasonable.”
“You’re not angry.”
“No. Wildly disappointed, but not angry.”
“Good. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to get out of our evening.”
“Sex,” she teased. “You mean sex.”
“I do mean sex.”
She thought about how he’d touched her. “I’m pretty sure you were looking forward to that. I’m okay with waiting.”
“As long as it’s not too long.”
“Sooner would be better than later,” she told him.
There was a pause. “I have to go. I’ll call you when I can.”
“I hope he’ll be okay.”
“Me too.”
Then he was gone. Montana sat there for a few seconds and then stood. It looked like this wasn’t going to be a G-string night after all.
She walked into her bedroom and changed her clothes. She’d barely slipped on sandals when the phone rang again. She saw a different man’s name on the screen.
“Is it time?” she asked breathlessly.
“It’s time,” Raoul shouted. “It’s time. She’s in labor.” His voice was thick with panic. “She’s too damn calm. We’re going to the hospital. You’ve got the list, right? There’s a list. You know what to do?”
“Breathe,” she instructed. “We all know what to do. I’m calling my mom first. She’ll be there in less than ten minutes. If I don’t get her, I’ll come over and stay with Peter until she’s available.”
Pia and Raoul weren’t just expecting twins—they’d also adopted a ten-year-old boy. Denise had promised to stay with him when Pia went into labor.
“Okay. Good. One of the neighbors will be here until then.” He swore again. “I gotta go. Pia’s in labor.”
Montana grinned. “I got that part. Go on. I’ll make the calls and we’ll all meet you at the hospital. Oh, and tell her I love her.”
“I will. I’m hanging up now.”
“You do that.”
The phone clicked.
For a guy who had guided an NFL team to a Super Bowl championship, Raoul sure was flustered. She guessed childbirth had a way of doing that to a person.
She quickly called her mother. Denise answered on the first ring. “Hello?”
“Pia’s finally in labor.”
“Thank goodness. She’s been desperate for weeks. I’m all packed. I’ll head over to their house right now.”
“Great. I’m going to make calls and then go to the hospital.”
“Keep me informed.”
“I promise.”
Denise laughed. “I can’t wait to hear if they’re boys or girls. It’s going to be a good day.”
“It is, Mom. I love you.”
“I love you, too, honey.”
Montana hurried to the living room. The call list was sitting on the coffee table. She started dialing.
“IF IT’S TWINS, does it take twice as long?” Nevada asked.
Montana laughed. “I don’t know and I’m not sure I want to. Labor would be the same, wouldn’t it? I guess the delivery would be different.”
They were sitting in a waiting area on the maternity floor. Other families gathered together, talking, anticipating their own miracle, but Pia’s group was the largest. Mayor Marsha was already there, as were Charity and Josh Golden and their baby. Montana’s brother Ethan was there with his wife, Liz. The girls and Tyler had been left at home.
Food had been spread out on the various tables, and a cooler filled with water bottles and soda stood in the corner. The other people waiting had been invited to eat and drink. The atmosphere was more like a party than a hospital setting. Something Pia would have appreciated.
“Did I tell you Dakota called?” Montana asked.
Her sister shook her head. “Is she coming?”
“As soon as she gets Hannah to sleep. Finn is going to stay home with Hannah.”
Denise came in with a redheaded boy at her side. Montana stood and walked over to them.
“Peter,” she said, giving him a hug. “You doing okay?”
The boy looked more curious than worried, which was probably a good thing. He’d been through a lot, losing his birth parents in a horrible car accident. He was the only one who’d survived. After a couple of years of foster care, he’d found a home with Pia and Raoul. Now he was about to get a couple of baby brothers or sisters. Or possibly one of each.
He hugged her back. “I wanted to see,” he told her, looking both defiant and a little embarrassed.
“He was concerned that we were all worried,” Denise said, resting her hand on Peter’s shoulder. “And hiding it from him.”
“I love Pia,” he said simply. “I want her to be okay.”
“We all want that,” Montana told him, taking him by the hand and leading him over to the table.
He picked a peanut butter cookie and took a bite. “So she’s okay?”
“We haven’t heard any differently.”
There was no point in discussing the possible complications of childbirth. Statistically Pia was going to be fine. Montana didn’t see the point in worrying a ten-year-old needlessly.
“Do you think Raoul is scared?”
Montana laughed. “I’m sure he’s terrified. You’re an easy kid to have around, but babies are small and helpless and they can’t tell you what’s wrong.”
Peter nodded. “I guess I’ll have to help. You know, be a big brother.”
She wrapped her arm around him. “My parents appreciated my big brothers helping with me and my sisters.”
Dakota arrived a few minutes later. Mayor Marsha claimed Peter and sat chatting with him. Denise shared a sofa with her daughters.
“You’ll be next,” she said, smiling at Dakota.
Dakota touched her still flat stomach. “I’m not due until early March, Mom. We’ve got a ways to go.”
“Still. I’m very excited.”
Nevada sighed. “I’m feeling pressure.”
“I didn’t say anything,” Denise said.
“You didn’t have to.”
Denise looked at Montana. “Do you feel pressure, too? I don’t want you to. While it would be nice to have more grandchildren, if you’re not interested in starting a family or in carrying on the Hendrix tradition, I’m fine with that.” She paused and drew in a deep breath. “My heart will mend eventually.”
Montana looked at Nevada. “Pressure? I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
A doctor came into the waiting room. Everyone turned toward her, but she walked to another family.
Dakota heard Mayor Marsha telling Peter, “Pia thought she would get the cat instead.”
The boy laughed. “I’m glad she didn’t. We have a dog now. Dogs are better than cats.” He glanced around the room, then added, “You can play with a dog. Cats like to sleep a lot.”
“So I’ve heard,” Marsha told him.
Montana listened in on other conversations. Moments like these reminded her why she loved living in Fool’s Gold. This was more than a small town—it was a real community. People took care of each other. She knew that when Pia went home, women would bring her all kinds of casseroles. That she wouldn’t have to cook for at least a month.
She knew that mothers and grandmothers would stop by regularly to offer advice and free babysitting so Pia could nap or take a walk. Raoul would find himself drawn into the lives of those around him in ways he didn’t expect. She liked being a part of this—having a place she could depend on. Fool’s Gold wasn’t like other places. Living here meant belonging.
Raoul stumbled into the waiting room. Everyone stopped talking and looked at him.
The normally handsome former football player still wore scrubs. His hair was mussed, his gaze unfocused. He glanced around, as if not sure where he was.
He saw Peter and grinned at the boy.
“Girls,” he said at last. “We have two girls. They’re so beautiful. Perfect. I don’t know how I got so lucky. First you and now these girls—Adelina Crystal and Rosabel Dana, in honor of Keith and Crystal Danes. Our friends will live on in our daughters.”
As one, everyone stood and rushed toward him. There were cheers and hugs and calls of congratulation. Montana made sure her mom was with Peter, then slipped out of the room. It would be a while before anyone could see Pia or the babies. She wanted to check on Simon.
She made her way to surgery and stopped at the nurses’ station. The older woman there glanced up from her computer screen.
“How can I help you?” she asked pleasantly.
“I’m checking on Dr. Bradley. He’s in surgery. Do you know how long he’s going to be?”
The nurse’s smile faded. “He’s not in surgery this evening. Would you like me to page him?”
Montana opened her mouth, then closed it. Not in surgery? But he’d said…
She swallowed. “No, thank you.”
She turned away. Heaviness settled on her chest.
Simon had lied. She couldn’t believe it, except there was no other explanation. Obviously he’d had second thoughts. He’d changed his mind about sleeping with her, but rather than tell her, he’d made up some stupid story.
Her eyes burned, but she refused to cry. It was bad enough that she’d been willing to give herself to him without even the hint of a relationship. She wasn’t going to make it worse by wasting tears on him.
She turned to leave, then shook her head. No. She wasn’t simply going to walk away. Dr. Stick-Up-the-Butt might think his behavior was okay, but she was going to let him know it wasn’t. She might not be sophisticated or elegant or whatever it was he usually went for, but she wasn’t going to let him treat her like this. Not without telling him exactly what she thought of him.