Janet (3 page)

As Janet moved to the chair, she couldn’t
help smiling. Big men looked so innocent when they were trying to
be careful. Removing her coat, she leaned back in the chair. It
made a rocking motion as if it knew exactly what to do. The feeling
was so pleasant she continued rocking, stopping only long enough to
take the cup from Dan.

Her hand brushed against his, and for a
second time that evening she felt a shock of awareness. She could
think of absolutely no scientific reason why touching Dan Albany
should make shivers run along her spine. Strange. She knew nothing
about the man except that he loved dogs and had a cluttered house.
She decided to find out more.

As he settled into the chair opposite her,
she took a sip of chocolate. “Your wife must stay awfully busy
dusting all this... memorabilia.” She’d stopped herself just in
time to keep from saying “junk.” Great. She was about as subtle as
an elephant dancing on a souffle.

His laugh was a happy roar that made the room
seem brighter. “I’m not married, Doctor. Are you?”

She took a long, fortifying drink of hot
chocolate. “I don’t have time for marriage.”

That statement—and the stiff-lipped way she
said it—told Dan about all he needed to know. Dr. Janet Hall was
definitely not a sweet, old-fashioned woman. And yet she looked so
right beside his fire

He repented his wicked, teasing ways and
smiled at her. “I do the dusting myself, such as it is. But if I
had a wife, she’d have nothing to do but dust and pamper me—and all
the children.”

“Children?”

“About a hundred and twenty-five of them—each
one special. They’re not mine, of course, except when they’re at
school.”

“You’re a teacher, then?”

“Yes. Graden Junior High. Math.”

Math, Janet thought. She perked up. Here was
a man who at least understood the scientific mind, even if his
house was a wreck.

“Of course,” Dan added, “my first love is
coaching.”

“You’re a coach?”

“Yes, soccer.” Dan leaned forward in his
chair. “Do you think I’ll live, Doc?”

“What?”

He chuckled. “You looked so disconcerted that
I couldn’t resist teasing you. It’s an old habit of mine. Comes
from growing up in a large family. We were always kidding and
carrying on with each other.”

“A large family must be nice.”

“I think so. Someday I’m going to have one
myself.” He lifted the cup to his lips and watched her over the
brim. Such elegant bone structure. “Of course, I have to find the
right woman first.”

“I suppose you have all sorts of
requirements. Most men do.”

Auburn hair would be nice, he thought as he
watched the firelight play in hers. Brown eyes, too. Funny, he’d
never thought about the color of his dream woman’s hair and eyes.
He smiled at her.

“Do you knit, Janet?”

“I beg your pardon?”

“Knit. You know... make blankets and sweaters
and things with yarn and those long needles that click.”

“Goodness, no. I don’t have time to
knit.”

“I’ll bet you love to putter in the
yard.”

“My yard is about three times bigger than
this teacup, thank goodness,” she said.

“You’re probably the type who loves to relax
by baking cookies on a cold, rainy day.”

Janet set her cup on the table beside the
rocking chair and laughed. Dan Albany was being about as subtle as
she had been. She didn’t know why that should make her suddenly
feel so good.

“I don’t bake, I don’t knit and I don’t
putter. Any other specifications, Dan Albany?”

He laughed. “You caught me red-handed, Doc. I
find myself attracted to you, and yet you’re the exact opposite of
everything I’ve ever thought I wanted in a woman.”

The silence stretched between them as they
studied each other across the firelit room. She thought he was big
and bold and hopelessly old-fashioned, and she knew beyond a shadow
of a doubt that he spelled trouble.

He thought she was vibrant and beautiful and
ridiculously modern, and he was positive she’d turn his world
upside down. It was best to put a stop to the battle before a war
got started. He decided that the quickest way was to use the big
artillery.

Leaning back in his chair, he dropped the
first bomb. “You’re absolutely not my type, at all.”

Janet’s back stiffened. Every good impression
she’d had about Dan Albany disappeared. Call it ego, call it
overwork, call it any darned thing—she was insulted straight to the
core by the arrogance of this man.

“I wasn’t auditioning for the part.”

“Are you angry, Doc?”

“Angry? Why should I be angry?” She stood up
so fast that the rocking chair kept rocking. “A soccer coach says
I’m not his type. I should feel honored.”

“A soccer coach?” Underneath the low-voiced
question were the rattling of sabers and the sounding of the battle
cry.

She answered by firing a volley. “Excuse me.
I should have said chauvinistic soccer coach.”

He put down his cup and stood up with the
slow grace of a born athlete. Although his movements were easy, his
body gave the appearance of being wired for explosion. “Have you
finished with the scientific analysis, Doctor?”

“Not yet. Any man who expects only to have
his furniture dusted and his ego pampered doesn’t deserve a good
woman.”

“I expect more.” He advanced toward her, war
flags flying above the battlements. “Much, much more.”

He was directly in front of her now, standing
so close she could feel his body heat. She braced herself against
the chair.

“Of course,” she said. “I forgot the baking
and knitting and puttering.”

“You forgot this.” He caught her shoulders,
fully intending to pull her into his arms and show her a thing or
two about chauvinistic soccer coaches. But something stopped him.
Perhaps it was the way she looked at him, the eyes widened just
slightly—but not with fear. Instinctively he knew he was holding a
woman who wouldn’t back down from the devil. The idea pleased him
enormously.

He gazed deep into her eyes, mesmerized by
the challenge he saw there. No woman had ever made him feel quite
so... he didn’t know any words to describe the way he felt. All he
knew was that something warm unfurled inside him and he wanted to
touch her, to feel the texture of her skin.

He lifted one hand and cupped her cheek.

Janet forced herself to stand stiffly. There
was absolutely no logical reason to feel the way she did. He was
just a man, and that was merely a hand on her face. But all the
logic in the world didn’t stop her pulse from quickening.

His hand trailed across her cheek and gently
traced the outline of her lips. Her nerve endings screamed, and a
strange heat built in her body. Diagnosis—temporary insanity.
Prognosis—curable. But not at the moment. For now she could do
nothing but surrender to the persuasive power of Dan Albany.

It was a small victory for Dan, and he
pressed his advantage. He slid his hand back along her cheek and
into her hair, that wine-rich hair that had beckoned him all
evening. Catching the nape of her neck, he leaned closer until
their lips were almost touching.

She’d thought him big and bold and hopelessly
old- fashioned. Now she added dangerous to his catalogue of sins.
He made her think of cozy firelit evenings when the touch of a hand
is magic. He made her consider passionate nights in a brass bed
with rain tap-dancing on the roof and love flowing richly through
the blood. He made her dream of orange blossoms and a nursery
decorated in pink and blue.

She must be going mad. She decided to quit
while she still could.

Janet raised her hands and pushed against his
chest. He released her immediately and leaned casually against the
mantel as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

“You’ve just proved my point, Coach. Only a
man with a gigantic ego would manhandle a woman he barely met.”

“I call it touching, Janet.” His smile was
slow and easy. “And you accepted it.”

“I had no choice.”

“You enjoyed it.”

“Like hell.”

“Ladies don’t cuss.”

“Add that to my list of shortcomings. I’m no
lady.”

“Did you know that your hair looks like
burgundy wine in the firelight?”

“Only a man of your supreme arrogance would
believe that praising a woman’s looks excuses odious behavior.”
Turning her back to him, Janet jerked her coat off the chair.

Dan left the mantel and stood behind her.
“Allow me.” His big hands covered hers.

“I don’t need your help, thank you very
much.”

“My mama taught me that a gentleman always
helps a lady with her coat—no matter how unladylike she acts.” He
unceremoniously bundled her into the green raincoat.

“A pity your mama didn’t teach you anything
about subtlety.”

“She tried. I guess I’m a slow learner.”

Catching her shoulders, Dan turned her
around. She was furious, and justifiably so. He experienced a
moment of regret that he had so quickly destroyed the easy
camaraderie between them. Not even telling himself it was all for
the best could ease his conscience. But what was done, was
done.

“What are you planning now?” she asked.
“Another demonstration of your superior strength?”

“I’m going to button your coat. You can’t go
out in the cold like that.” His fingers brushed lightly under her
chin as he fastened the top button.

Janet briefly considered fighting, then
decided there was more to be gained by submission. She’d be damned
if she’d give him the satisfaction of knowing what his touch did to
her.

He handled the buttons with ease, as if
performing a chore he’d done many times before. He probably did
this every day for dozens of women—all of them no doubt sitting at
home right now, baking gingerbread and knitting afghans and hoping
he would call. She hoped they all got high cholesterol from eating
hot dogs.

Two buttons down and two to go. She held her
breath.

“Did you know your eyes turn gold in the
center when you’re angry?”

She glanced up at him and then wished she
hadn’t. Up close he was even more devastatingly delicious. And so
totally unsuitable. She had to keep telling herself that.

“There’s nothing mysterious about the color
of a person’s eyes. It’s merely a matter of genes.”

“In your case, it’s magic.”

His hands moved to the button over her
breasts. Janet fought to keep from sucking in her breath. Even
through all her layers of clothing, she was astonishingly aware of
his touch. A slow, lazy smile curved his lips. He
knew,
damn him.

“Magic,” he said again, so softly she barely
heard him.

“There’s no need for two of us to go to the
vet,” Janet said, trying to regain control through some
conversation. “I’ll come by in the morning after my hospital rounds
and pick up Harvey.”

“What time will you be finished?” His hands
lingered over the button. She wanted to scream.

“Nine.”

“Good. I’ll bring Harvey and pick you up at
the hospital.”

“No.”

His hands were still on her, one inside her
coat and one outside, not fastening the button, not doing
anything,
just hovering there like two giant flatirons.
She was getting hot.

“Why not?”

“It’s perfectly ridiculous—a waste of time.
One person should be able to take care of Harvey. It’s more
efficient that way.”

“Is efficiency one of your top
priorities?”

Why didn’t he move his hand? She took a deep
breath. “Yes. But that’s probably something you wouldn’t
understand.”

“Being a coach?”

“I didn’t say that.”

He’d meant to drop a bomb and end it all,
nice and quick and clean. No futile speculations, no useless dreams
of turning the beautiful doctor into a hearth-warming homebody.
Instead he found himself lingering over the simple pleasure of
buttoning her coat.

And she kept baiting him, dammit. He smiled
as he took hold of the last button. Of course, he was also baiting
her. It seemed that the coach and the doctor were destined to do
battle. He felt invigorated, challenged—and he was definitely
looking forward to their next skirmish.

He fastened the last button on her coat, then
reached and caught her shoulders. “I suppose we could debate the
issue all night,” he said.

“If you think I’m staying here all night,
you’re crazy.”

“I don’t want you here all night.”

“Then why are you hanging onto me?”

He merely tightened his hold and smiled.
“Game tactics. I don’t want you leaving the field until I’ve scored
my point.”

“You should know something about me, Coach
Albany. I never quit the field.”

“Neither do I.” He reached to turn her collar
up around her face. Except for the deepening of her color, she
didn’t show any sign of emotion. “Since you’re obviously too
stubborn to give in to my way...”

“I am not...”

“...and I’m definitely too bullheaded to do
things your way, we’ll compromise.”

“That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said
all evening.”

“I have my moments.”

She wished he hadn’t smiled again. His smile
compensated for a multitude of sins.

“I’ll bring Harvey and meet you at the vet’s
on west Jackson. That way we’re both spared spending unnecessary
time in each other’s company.”

“Agreed.” Janet ducked out of his grasp and
reached for her medical bag. “Good night, Coach.”

“See you tomorrow, Doc.”

He took her arm to escort her out.

“Don’t bother,” she said. “I can find my
way.”

“I insist. My early childhood training in
manners, you know.” Chuckling, he opened the front door.

His laughter followed Janet all the way down
the steps and to her car. It was still echoing in her thoughts when
she reached her apartment.