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A Daddy For Christmas: Yuletide Baby Surprise / Maybe This Christmas...? / The Sheriff's Doorstep Baby. Alison RobertsЧитать онлайн книгу.

A Daddy For Christmas: Yuletide Baby Surprise / Maybe This Christmas...? / The Sheriff's Doorstep Baby - Alison Roberts


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be back with relatives before supper. A good thing, right?

      Rowan started the baby swing in motion. The click-click-click mingled with a low nursery tune.

      Mari cleared her throat. “I’ll check on Issa during lunch and make sure all’s going well with the sitter.”

      “That’s a good idea. Thank you.” He cradled a cup in strong hands that could so easily crush the fine china.

      She shrugged dismissively. It was no hardship to skip the luncheon. She disliked the idle table chitchat at these sorts of functions anyway. “No big sacrifice. Nobody likes conference lunch food.”

      Laughing softly, he eyed her over his cup of coffee. “I appreciate your working with me on this.”

      “You didn’t leave me much choice, Dr. Guilt Trip.”

      His smile creased dimples into his face. “Who’d have thought you’d have a sense of humor?”

      “That’s not nice.” She traced the rim of her cup.

      “Neither is saying I coerced you.” He tapped the tip of her scrunched nose. “People always have a choice.”

      Of course he was right. She could always walk, but thinking overlong about her compulsion to stay made her edgy. She sat at the table, the morning sun glistening off the ocean waters outside. “Of course I’m doing this of my own free will, for Issa’s sake. It has absolutely nothing to do with you.”

      “Hello? I thought we weren’t going to play games.”

      She avoided his eyes and sipped her steaming java. “What do you mean, games?”

      “Fine. I’ll spell it out.” He set down his cup on the table and sat beside her, their knees almost touching. “You have made it your life’s mission to tear down my research and to keep me at arm’s length. Yet you chose to stay here, for the baby, but you and I both know there’s more to it than that. There’s a chemistry between us, sparks.”

      “Those sparks—” she proceeded warily “—are just a part of our disagreements.”

      “Disagreements? You’ve publically denounced my work. That’s a little more than a disagreement.”

      Of course he wouldn’t forget that. “See, sparks. Just like I said.”

      His eyes narrowed. If only he could understand her point. She only wanted to get past his impulsive, pigheaded mindset and improve his programs.

      “Mari, you’re damn good at diverting from the topic.”

      “I’m right on point,” she said primly. “This is about our work and you refused to consider that I see things from another angle. You’ve made it your life’s mission to ignore any pertinent input I might have for your technological inventions. I am a scientist.”

      He scraped a hand over his drying hair. “Then why are you so against my computer program?”

      “I thought we were talking about what’s best for Issa.” She glanced at the baby girl still snoozing in the swing with the lullaby playing.

      “Princess, you are making my head spin.” He sagged back. “We’re here for Issa, but that doesn’t mean we can’t talk about other things, so quit changing the subject every three seconds. In the interest of getting along better during these next couple of weeks, let’s discuss your public disdain for my life’s work.”

      Was he serious? Did he really want to hash that out now? He certainly looked serious, drinking his coffee and downing bites of breakfast. Maybe he was one of those people who wanted to make peace at the holidays in spite of bickering all year round. She knew plenty about that. Which should have taught her well. Problems couldn’t be avoided or the resolutions delayed. Best to confront them when given the opening.

      “Your program is just too much of a snapshot of a diagnosis, too much of a quick fix. It’s like fast-food medicine. It doesn’t take into account enough variables.” Now she waited for the explosion.

      He inhaled a deep breath and tipped back in his chair before answering. “I can see your point. To a degree, I agree. I would welcome the chance to give every patient the hands-on medical treatment of the best clinic in the world. But I’m treating the masses with a skeleton team of medical professionals. That computer program helps us triage in half the time.”

      “What about people who use your program to cut corners?”

      Rowan frowned. “What do you mean?”

      “You can’t truly believe the world is as altruistic as you? What about the clinics using that program to funnel more patients through just to make more money?”

      His chair legs hit the floor, his jaw tightening. “I can’t be the conscience for the world,” he said in an even tone although a tic had started in the corner of his azure-blue eye. “I can only deal with the problems in front of me. I’m working my tail off to come up with help. Would I prefer more doctors and nurses, PAs and midwives, human hands? Hell, yes. But I make do with what I have and I do what I can so those of us who are here can be as efficient as possible under conditions they didn’t come close to teaching us about during my residency.”

      “So you admit the program isn’t optimal?” She couldn’t believe he’d admitted to the program’s shortcomings.

      “Really?” He threw up his hands. “That’s your takeaway from my whole rambling speech? I’m being practical, and you’re being idealistic in your ivory tower of research. I’m sorry if that makes you angry to hear.”

      “I’m not the volatile sort.” She pursed her lips tightly to resist the temptation to snap at him for devaluing her work.

      Slowly, he grinned, leaning closer. “That’s too bad.”

      “Pardon me?” she asked, not following his logic at all.

      “Because when you get all flustered, you’re really hot.”

      Her eyes shot open wide, surprise skittering through her, followed by skepticism. “Does that line really work for you?”

      “I’ve never tried it before.” He angled closer until his mouth almost brushed hers. “You’ll have to let me know.”

      Before she could gasp in half a breath of air, he brushed his mouth over hers. Shock quickly turned to something else entirely as delicious tingles shimmered through her. Her body warmed to the feel of him, the newness of his kiss, their first kiss, a moment already burning itself into her memory, searing through her with liquid heat.

      Her hand fluttered to his chest, flattening, feeling the steady, strong beat of his heart under her palm matching the thrumming heartbeat in her ears. His kiss was nothing like she would have imagined. She’d expected him to be out of control, wild. Instead, he held her like spun glass. He touched her with deft, sensitive hands, surgeon’s hands that knew just the right places to graze, stroke, tease for maximum payoff. Her body thrilled at the caress down her spine that cupped her bottom, bringing her closer.

      Already she could feel herself sinking into a spiral of lush sensation. Her limbs went languid with desire. She wanted more of this, more of him, but they were a heartbeat away from tossing away their clothes and inhibitions. Too risky for a multitude of reasons, not the least of which was the possibility of someone discovering them.

      Those sorts of exposé photos she absolutely did not want circulating on the internet or anywhere else.

      Then, too soon he pulled away. How embarrassing that he was the one to stop since she already knew the kiss had to end. Never had she lost control this quickly.

      Cool air and embarrassment washed over her as she sat stunned in her chair. He’d completely knocked the world out from under her with one simple kiss. Had he even been half as affected as she was by the moment? She looked quickly at him, but his back was to her already and she realized he was walking toward the door.

      “Rowan?”


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