Winning Back His Doctor Bride (12 page)

He backed the car out of the drive, pausing to tweak one of her auburn curls. “You've let it go natural tonight.”

“Freya thought it would go better with the dress than straightening it.” When she had been in Brazil she'd tended to let it dry naturally, since she didn't always have access to the straightening iron she used in the States.

“I always did like your curls.” One of his brows went up.

Was he remembering how she'd looked straight out of the shower, when they'd had unplanned nights of wild sex? Her curls had been much shorter back then, but he'd used to wind them around his fingers as they'd lain in bed together afterward.

She laughed. “Well, you have a bit of curl to your hair as well.” She reached over and rumpled the waves just a bit, making them look wild and untamed. Oh, yeah. James was hot, no matter how his hair was.

“I still have to face my coworkers on Monday morning, you know.”

“Don't worry, you can return to your stodgy old style tomorrow.”

“Stodgy.” He stopped at a light and reached over to slide his fingers over her cheek. “Would you like to take that back?”

“Nope. Always were. Still are.”

“I see I'm going to have to work a bit to disabuse you of that notion.”

A shiver went through her. They were playing back and forth with their words like they used to in days past, only Mila wasn't quite sure he meant them the way she was taking them. But she hoped the sensual promise hidden in their repartee wasn't just in her imagination.

He might appear cool and polished on the surface, but beneath that sleek playboy veneer James had always been someone to contend with. There was a hard edge to him that excited her. He liked to experiment...and to play. And he'd driven Mila wild with need time and time again. He still did, in fact. Their sex play at the pool had been mild compared to what had gone on between them in the past.

They got to the boat in less than a half hour, and by that time James's hand was resting, warm and heavy, on her thigh, making her squirm.

The way his touch always had.

She was tempted to throw this whole damn party to the wind and just drag him aboard the boat. Except they were scheduled to queue up with other watercraft for the water parade, and it would be pretty conspicuous if the lead boat didn't show up.

A few of the bigger yachts were hosting after-parties. She and James had already received multiple invitations, in fact, which James said he had turned down.

At first she'd wondered if it was because he knew she wasn't fond of all the glitz and glamour or, worse, because he didn't want to spend any extra time with her. But after his touch and words tonight, she hoped it was because he wanted her all to himself. Because she definitely wanted him. And if they hadn't had responsibilities to fulfill for their respective clinics and patients, she would have just chucked it all to the wind and hosted their own little party. A very private one.

But she did have responsibilities. As did James. But that didn't mean they couldn't retreat back to his schooner afterward and spend the rest of the night in that big bed of his. He'd once told her he'd never spent the night on his boat with a woman other than her, and she'd never seen pictures of him there with anyone, so she hoped it was still one of his unspoken rules. She didn't know why that was, other than a glimmer of hope that he considered what they'd once had to be special.

But not special enough to marry her.

She banished that thought, because this time she wasn't looking for marriage. She was looking to spend a single night with a man she was attracted to. A man she'd always been attracted to. And someone she was glad was still alive.

That made it okay. Didn't it? It wasn't like either one of them was hiding something from the other. They both knew the score.

By the time they got on the dinghy that would take them to James's boat, it was dusk and the schooner's white twinkle lights had already been lit. By the boat's caretaker, she assumed.

Since they would once again be powering the boat, using the engine rather than the sails, the lights up the rigging provided a beautiful profile. Someone had also attached white paper lanterns to the railing around the deck. They provided a soft light that made the teakwood glow. A glow she could see even from this distance.

The setting was perfect. More perfect that anything she could imagine.

Maybe she would talk James into mooring the boat out a little way from the rest of the regatta craft and when they were done with the party they could make love on the deck first, before moving below.

After all, they had all night. Something James didn't know. He knew his housekeeper was watching Leo for the duration of the party, but what he wasn't aware of was that Mila had taken her aside and asked her if she could stay the night, in case they got...delayed. The woman had kept a completely straight face and told her she'd be happy to, whether they returned at midnight or the next morning, and for Mila not to worry herself with letting her know one way or the other.

For all she knew, James just assumed they were going home once the gala was over.

Would he accept her suggestion of staying out all night instead?

She hoped so. The disappointment would be crushing if she'd misread his signals.

Maybe she should prepare herself, just in case.

Once James helped her aboard the schooner and went up front to get things ready for the short trip, she did something she hadn't done in ages. She pulled her phone out of the small red clutch she'd brought with her and scrolled through her contacts. She'd added his number not so very long ago, since she knew they'd have to have business meetings, and so on. Finding him, her thumb hovered over the message button. Should she?

Since she wasn't brave enough to ask him outright, she decided to risk it. She quickly typed out the words. And before she lost her nerve, she hit Send.

James had shed his tuxedo jacket and had his back to her, but she could still see the moment he reached his hand into his pocket and pulled something out. His phone. He gazed at the screen for a second. Then he dropped it right back into his pocket without any reaction at all. And without typing anything in return.

What? Oh, no! He wasn't going to respond. Humiliation washed over her in a big wave. Maybe she could jump into the dinghy and take off before he broke the news to her in person.

A second or two later he turned around and his eyes met hers. Too late. All thoughts of running fled.

She swallowed.

He came around the bulkhead, hands in his pockets as he made his way toward her.

Mila's face burned even hotter. She hadn't had the nerve to ask him about his plans for this evening, but he evidently had no problem breaking the bad news to her face-to-face. It would have been so much easier to get the message via text.

No, it wouldn't. But at least then she would have been able to hide her face until she'd composed herself.

And there was always the dinghy.

When he got to her, though, there was no sign of rejection in his eyes. Only some hot emotion that scorched her to the core.

He took a hold of her chin and tipped her head up. “Yes. I do have plans for after the party.”

Before she could squirm away from him in renewed mortification, his cheek brushed against hers. “And those plans involve you. And me. And every available surface. Horizontal. Vertical. Upside down.”

Her lips parted as realization swept through her. He wasn't rejecting her. He was verifying every thought she'd had.

All that wordplay. All those little touches. He, too, meant this evening to lead to something more.

“I thought you were going to turn me down.”

“I've never been able to turn you down.”

Oh, yes, he had. She could remember one very specific time. But she'd made up her mind not to dwell on that. Not tonight.

This had nothing to do with their engagement. Or their past relationship. This had to do with want and desire and needing to spend the night with a hot, willing man.

The fact that she'd chosen him and not someone else meant nothing, except the fact that in the end James seemed a whole lot less complicated. He was a master at keeping things light and easy.

She shook off her thoughts. “How long is this party supposed to last?”

“I'm hoping it'll go on all night long.”

Another shiver went through her. The man knew exactly the right thing to say.

“I might just hold you to that.”

“What about Leo?”

“Rosa said she would stay with him.”

He leaned back and a slow smile made the deep groove in the left side of his face come to life. “I see I'm not the only one whose thoughts were running in this direction.”

One hand went to the deck railing beside her hip, while the other curled around her back and drew her against his chest. “If we weren't due at this damned event, and if we weren't quite so visible at the moment...” he leaned down until he was right against her ear once again “...I would go ahead and get this little party started.”

He already had. Her insides were quivering with anticipation, nerve endings throughout her body going on high alert, waiting for the slightest signal that he was willing to set aside their duties and drag her below deck.

Instead, his arm uncurled from around her. Yes, it was a slow move, but it still had him moving away instead of closing the deal with a kiss.

Before she could draw another breath, though, his eyes met hers again, the soft lighting giving them an amber glow that reminded her of a wolf. “I plan on using the time at that fund-raiser to make you think about what's going to happen the moment we come back aboard. When I have you all to myself.”

* * *

James had meant to drive Mila crazy with need in little ways. The touch of his fingers as he slid a champagne glass into her hand. The brush of his body against hers as he reached past her for an hors d'oeuvre. Instead, he was driving himself insane. They'd better start up the music for the dancing soon or he was going to drag Mila out onto that floor and make their own special music. One unheard by anyone except them.

He wanted her. Planned on having her. And this time he was prepared for anything. In fact, he'd peppered his whole boat with protection so that it didn't matter where they ended up. He'd done his best to ignore how it reminded him of his disappointment at discovering she wasn't pregnant. He should be glad. Celebrating it from the rooftops, but he wasn't. And he wasn't sure why. Neither was he so vain as to think Mila was a sure thing.

In fact, she was the least sure thing he'd ever come across. Maybe that was part of what drove his crushing need to have her.

He didn't think so.

In fact, if he let himself think too much, he might just come to a conclusion that he didn't want to face. And so he didn't. He let himself dwell on the pleasure that was ahead and dismissed any stray thought that didn't go along with that.

He'd had plenty of women since he'd broken their engagement. He would make this just another meeting of bodies. Only it wasn't, and he knew it. He still didn't bring women aboard his boat. But Mila had already been there during their engagement, so that didn't count. Right?

So why was it that when his phone had buzzed, indicating he'd received a text, his gut had given a knowing twist. And when he'd glanced down at the screen and read the words, his first instinct had been to text her back, jumping back to their former ways of ramping up the heat. In the end, he'd steeled himself against doing so. He hadn't sent a text for six years and he wasn't going to start now. And somehow he knew that if he sent her a message, things would go from a fun, superficial fling to something deeper.

But wasn't it already deeper? He'd slept with the woman once. Planned on doing so again.

His gut churned with a mass of contradictory emotions.

He didn't want to hurt her again. And after that pregnancy scare and with her moving forward with Leo, he was sure he would. So he'd done his damnedest to remind himself this was going to be all about the sex.

If he could just drill that through his thick skull and make himself believe it, he should be fine.

In fact, he knew he would be.

CHAPTER TEN

H
E
 
WASN
'
T
 
FINE
.

Over an hour later, there had been toasts and mingling and smiling acknowledgment of patrons as they promised funding for the next year.

James still hadn't danced with her. He'd watched her from across the room, champagne glass in hand, laughing with Abi Thompson and Damien Moore, both doctors who practiced at The Hollywood Hills Clinic. He and Damien had worked together on multiple cases, like Patricia Stillwell's, and from what James had heard, Damien and Abi were pretty much inseparable nowadays. Abi, wearing a dark green gown, stood close to him, smiling up at something the other man said.

A spear of some ugly emotion went through him at the obvious affection between them. Damien's hand went around Abi's waist, and she leaned into him for a second. She then held out her left hand, and Mila leaned closer to examine something on it.

Left hand?

His glance went to his friend, who even from this distance looked pretty damned smug about something.

Oh, hell, no. Surely not.

But even as Mila grabbed the woman up in a hug, her face alight with happiness, James felt something in his chest sink.

He'd thrown away something truly good. Something remarkable. No matter what Cindy or his father had done, he could have—and should have—talked it over with Mila. Instead, in trying to protect her from the ugliness of what had happened—the hopeless reality he'd thought he faced—he'd left her with no explanation. No possibility of working toward a solution.

She'd never asked for an explanation.

But then again he'd never offered one.

Maybe he should change that. Give them both the closure they'd been denied. Or it might even be something a little more than that.

Other people from the clinic had gathered around the pair: Flo and Nate, Freya and Zach, Grace and Liam. All couples now. He should be happy for all of them, but the only thing he felt was a pit of emptiness that began in his stomach and spread to the rest of his body.

He decided it was time to go and collect his date, before he let the kernel of jealous longing ruin everything he and Mila had built over the last several hours. Besides, his hands and body were telling him to get a move on. She'd chatted with several other men. None had gotten close enough to touch her, but it had still sent an arrow jetting through his gut each time he'd seen her with someone else. Apart from that firefighter, James hadn't had to deal with the reality that Mila would one day find the man of her dreams. And start that family she'd mentioned long ago.

He would have to see them together day in and day out. Or at least for as long as their two clinics were housed in the same building. And since Freya had asked Mila to be her twins' godmother, it was inevitable that they would see each other over the years.

He wasn't sure he could stomach it. But she deserved all that and more. Deserved so much more than a man who'd broken her heart for reasons that had had nothing to do with her. And everything to do with him and his family.

Or was that just a cop-out he'd told himself over the years to avoid a painful discussion?

One he wasn't going to put off for any longer.

Maybe then he would be able to move forward with his own life. Whether that could ever include Mila was yet to be seen.

So he headed toward her, just as the small crowd that had gathered around Abi and Damien began to disperse. Abi looked relieved. He knew she didn't really care for loud, noisy places, courtesy of the PTSD she'd brought back from the war in Afghanistan. And Damien seemed pretty determined to make sure she was as comfortable as possible, leading her toward a private table a short distance away.

When James reached Mila, he found her staring off into space. But when she saw him, her pensive expression turned into a smile. Relief poured through him.

He let his own lips twitch. “What was that all about?”

“What was what?”

Nodding toward the pair seated at the table, he said, “That?”

Mila slid her hand in his and tugged him a short distance away. “They're engaged. She doesn't want anyone making a big deal over it, though.”

“No. She wouldn't. I thought something was brewing between those two.”

“Isn't it wonderful? And I think something might be starting up between Avery and Tyler. Did you see them at the ribbon-cutting ceremony?”

“I didn't notice.” James looked at her with new eyes. Even with the disillusionment he'd handed her six years ago, she could still find it in her heart to be genuinely happy for others who found love.

Time to think about something else. Something that would take his mind off the obvious happiness of the newly engaged couple and put it squarely back on the woman in front of him.

“Speaking of wonderful...” He swept an arm around her waist and took her hand in his. “Dance with me.”

She laughed. “The music hasn't started yet.”

“Then let's change that.” He moved over to where the DJ was busy getting things in order and asked him to start the dancing.

The man smiled and then pulled his microphone over, flipping through a chart of some kind. “Let's open up the floor for the first dance of the evening, featuring the heads of the newly merged Bright Hope Clinic and The Hollywood Hills Clinic. Here's to a long and healthy relationship.” Probably having no idea of the irony of that statement, the man then held his arm out and a spotlight came up, capturing James and Mila in its glare. “Here to get this show under way is our very own Dr. James Rothsberg and Dr. Mila Brightman.”

A round of applause grew and soon became organized into a synchronized rhythm that ended in laughter when James held out his hand, palm uplifted.

Mila obliged by taking it and letting him sweep her onto the dance floor.

They came together, a relearning of things forgotten, although James could swear he'd forgotten nothing about her. One thing he recalled with painful clarity, though: how it felt to have her in his arms. And how he never wanted to let her go.

So he wouldn't. At least not for this dance. Or the next.

Mila settled her hips close to his and laid her cheek on his shoulder. Her scent flooded his nostrils, and he strained to capture it, allowing it to seep into every pore. When she shifted and draped her arms around his neck, everything inside him tightened. He wanted nothing more than to whisk her away and show her how special she was. Show her how much he...

Loved her.

He took a hit to the midsection. Then another.

Why was he so surprised? He'd always loved her. From the moment he'd laid eyes on her he'd known she was someone who would rock his world.

And rock it she had.

The first song went by and soon other couples joined them on the dance floor. He spied Freya across the room, standing next to Zack, one hand on her belly and her other around her husband. She gave a little wave that seemed far too gloating.

Gloating about what? Him dancing with Mila? She'd known they were supposed to have the first dance.

His sister had been furious when he'd walked out on Mila, and rightly so. Maybe this was his chance to make up for past wrongs. He and Mila could surely wind up as friends once all was said and done.

Except he loved her.

Was it possible to love her and be happy with just friendship? He didn't know. But what he did know was that he wanted her in a way he'd never wanted anyone else. And she wanted him. At least that text she'd sent on the boat would seem to indicate she did.

It was worth the risk.

He spun her around, until he couldn't see Freya and Zack anymore. Or Damien and Abi. Or anyone else from the clinic. All he could see was Mila. Along with everything she made him feel.

And suddenly it was enough. At least for tonight. Tomorrow? He had no idea, but he could make those kinds of decisions later.

“Hey,” he murmured, allowing his lips to trail over her ear, suddenly not caring if anyone saw the move. “How much longer do we have to stay?”

Mila shuddered against him, her fingers tightening on his neck. “I'm pretty sure we've fulfilled our duty.”

When he moved lower, allowing his teeth to nip at the long lines of her neck, she actually gasped out loud.

He smiled. “I haven't fulfilled anything yet. But I fully intend to.”

When she pressed her hips against him, finding the throbbing, aching truth of the matter, he knew he didn't want to wait a moment longer. “Let's go.”

Grabbing her hand, he hauled her through the clusters of people, throwing stiff smiles toward a few who got between him and the door and deftly maneuvering around them.

Then they were free. Outside in the cool night air. The second they were in his dinghy, he leaned over her, lips feathering across hers in a kiss that made her moan. Her fingers gripped the sides of the boat.

“That's right, honey. Hang on tight. This is going to be the fastest crossing you've ever made.”

* * *

A tickly, scratchy sensation ran down one side of her spine. Then back up the other side. Mila squirmed, then groaned and rolled onto her back. The same prickly object flowed between her breasts, down her sternum, over her belly, picking up speed as it headed toward her...

Her breath caught just as her eyes flew open.

“James!” She half laughed, half screamed as she tried to get her bearings.

He looked up at her, his whiskery chin planted just below her belly button, an impish, unapologetic look of need in his eyes.

“I love hearing you say my name.” Every word he spoke made those morning bristles scratch across her skin in the most delicious way.

She giggled, her body already heating as memories began flooding over her.

His boat. They were on James's sailboat. And what they'd done last night—well, she'd never forget a single second of it.

She turned her head in a rush to see if they'd actually...

Yes. They evidently had. Both posts of the headboard boasted a coil of rope. Burned into her mind was the exact second he'd released her hands so she could...

He rubbed his chin against her once more, slipping an inch or two farther south. She stopped him with a hand to the back of his head, managing to ask, “What time is it?”

“Still early.”

It was? Because she could see light pouring into the cabin. “How early?”

“Just after seven.”

Mila relaxed. At least it wasn't ten or eleven. In fact, if it was seven, that meant they'd gone to bed just three hours earlier. No, not gone to bed—because that had been hours ago. They'd finally gone to
sleep
at around four o'clock.

“Still, I have to get back to the house before Rosa worries.”

“I called her and told her we'd decided to stay over. It was late and we'd both had a few drinks.” He slid to lie beside her, still naked, his taut body making her feel positively drunk. “Besides, I wanted to talk to you for a few minutes before we go back to the real world.”

The real world. Where life was not quite as fun and free of complications as it had been last night.

She turned to look at where he lay, his golden head pressing deep into the crisp white pillow. “If it's about...earlier...we used something this time, so we should be good.”

“It was definitely good. In fact...”

“Again?” They'd used more than one of those condoms he'd brought.

“Is that a no?”

“No. It's definitely not.” James had always been an insatiable lover. And once had never seemed to be enough with him. It made her heart warm in ways she didn't want to think about.

He reached up and wrapped a strand of her hair around his finger and then kissed the tip of her nose. “I have something I want to tell you. Something...” He paused as if trying to find just the right words. “I've been doing some thinking while you slept. I want things to be different between us this time.”

This time? Was he saying...?

Maybe it was the same thing she'd been thinking for the last couple of hours.

A bubble of happiness rose to the surface. Maybe the past really could be rewritten. Or, if not rewritten, edited so that what had been a stark, dead ending could be erased, allowing for something better. Sweeter.

So, without waiting for him to say anything else, Mila slid her hands up James's chest until she reached his shoulders and then she gave a light shove, flipping him onto his back on the huge bed. The puzzlement on his face was as plain as the ropes that were still attached to the headboard.

Those cords gave her an idea.

Talking could wait. They had time. Plenty of time.

She took one of his hands and raised it above his head and then straddled his hips, feeling a definite nudge of reaction from somewhere below. Leaning over, she took the length of rope and wound it around his wrist, tying it just tight enough that he wouldn't be able to pull it loose.

“Hey, I'm trying to have a rational conversation here.” The protest was halfhearted at best.

“Kind of busy right now.”

“What are you doing?” He tugged against the binding, but one side of his mouth quirked.

“Isn't it obvious?” She took his other hand, feeling no resistance this time as she fastened it to the other side of the bed.

The boat rolled slightly to the left.

“And if we sink?” His pupils widened with lust and something a little more profound. Something she didn't want to explore right now. So she bit his lip enough to sting. His breath hissed in and he tried to reach her, but his hands quickly reached the end of their tethers.

“Oh, I'm counting on you sinking, James.” She gave a husky laugh. “All the way to the bottom. And I'm going to enjoy every single inch as you do.”