Expecting the Doctor's Baby by Teresa Southwick

“Thanks for getting the valet to let my father know not to wait for me.”
    His mouth pulled tight for a moment but all he said was, “You’re welcome.”
    â€œAnd thanks for not giving me too hard a time when I insisted the valet tell him that I wasn’t feeling well.”
    â€œAs opposed to you’d rather walk barefoot on glass than get in the car with him?”
    â€œYes,” she said. “I know you don’t understand—”
    â€œYou’re right. I don’t get it. You’re bright and beautiful and witty. I don’t understand why you let him get away with treating you like a ditz.”
    â€œHe’s entitled to his opinion about what I do.”
    â€œThat doesn’t give him the right to be vicious.”
    She took another sip of brandy and felt it warm her inside. The look Mitch was giving her heated her, too, in an entirely different way.
    â€œHow is what my father did tonight different from what you do when you have a strong conviction about someone or something? I’ve seen you in action and there was no holding back.”
    â€œYou’re not doing something that gets someone hurt,” he defended. “If people would just stop and think—”
    â€œIn your opinion. It’s the facts as you see them and when you unload that opinion, people’s feelings get hurt.”
    He ran his fingers through his hair, then drained his glass and set it on the coffee table she’d painted in a deep, cocoa-brown. “Trust me, my behavior is nothing like your father. He’s an ass.”
    â€œI can’t argue with that. And yet he’s on a mission to raise money for a cancer treatment center to honor the memory of the woman he loved. So he’s an ass with shades of gray.”
    â€œThere’s got to be something in it for him,” Mitch said.
    â€œTonight’s event was a lot of work. I hope he does get something out of it.”
    â€œYou were having a good time until he showed up.”
    She nodded. “Yeah.”
    He moved in front of her, close enough to feel the warmth of his body. “If I remember right, you’d just said that I was a guy who saves lives. And that makes me a—”
    â€œWhat?” she asked.
    â€œThat’s what I’d like to know. You didn’t get a chance to finish the thought.”
    Hero was what she’d meant to say. And tonight he’d shown her he was one of the good guys outside of work, too. She finished the brandy in her glass and set it beside his. The warmth lingered inside her along with the sadness.
    â€œThat’s not all I didn’t finish.” Her eyes filled again as she remembered how happy she’d been when Mitch held her in his arms and guided her around the dance floor. He was looking puzzled, waiting for her to explain. And all she could say was, “We left our dessert—”
    Her voice caught and she turned away. “Please don’t think I’m ungrateful, but I’d really like to be by myself now.”
    â€œDon’t, Sam—” He moved behind her, curving his fingers around her arms. “Don’t cry. He isn’t worth it.”
    When he turned her toward him, a single tear slid down her cheek. He cupped her face in his hands and brushed the moisture away with his thumb as his gaze skipped over her face. Staring at her, he shook his head as he let out a sound that was part exasperation, part groan. Then he lowered his mouth to hers.
    The touch was soft, tentative, testing until her sigh of surrender. Then the contact turned into an explosion of heat and need. His arms came around her, crushing her to him and she’d never felt safer or more secure. She’d never needed like she did now. No questions. No overthinking. She’d never lost control this way, not even with the man she’d almost married. This was simple, basic lust—easy to understand and explain. And best of all when