If You Could Read My Mind.... Jeanie LondonЧитать онлайн книгу.
working on his next patient, Michael considered what he might do to ease his way back into her good graces. Not that he had any burning desire to squeeze more work into his already overbooked days. But Jillian’s mood was translating into every aspect of their lives. She was freezing him out, and he didn’t relish a summer with her ignoring him because she was mad.
Should he send flowers? She loved gladioli, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d brought her any. An anniversary maybe? But which one?
What about candy? She had a sweet tooth, and a box of expensive chocolate—milk, not dark—might assuage her temper.
Michael debated flowers versus chocolate as he wrapped up his morning, inhaled his lunch then settled into his office easy chair for a turbo nap.
By the time he’d awakened, refreshed and ready to take on the afternoon, he’d decided on the flowers. Had Jillian mentioned watching her weight lately? He couldn’t remember, but didn’t want to seem unsupportive of her efforts if she was.
Flowers would definitely be safer.
But Jillian was angrier than he’d ever seen her. Maybe he should take her to dinner. Hmm. That idea had potential. Dinner would mean she wouldn’t have to cook. If he presented his invitation right, not only would he seem sensitive, but unselfish because he hated leaving the house once he’d settled in after a long day.
Yeah, Jillian might really like dinner.
So after he finished his last patient of the day, Michael planned his strategy. She’d driven her own car into work, so he arrived home behind her, moved quietly through the house and caught up with her in the bathroom as she stripped off her uniform.
With the smock coming over her head, she didn’t see him sneak up behind her, but he got an eyeful. Strawberry-blond waves tumbled down her back as she deposited the shirt into the hamper. She wore a white cotton bra that looked so sexy.
Trailing his gaze down to the curvy V of her waist, he imagined slipping his arms around her, unfastening the clasp and trying a few moves sure to coax out those soft sighs she made whenever he touched her.
Maybe she’d be so taken by his thoughtfulness that he’d luck out and score. After a good meal, Michael would get a second wind. How long had it been since they’d made love anyway?
“Hey, gorgeous.” He caught her around the waist.
She let out a surprised yelp then went stiff in his arms.
Not good.
Twisting her around, he gazed down into her face. “Surprised to see me?”
“I didn’t hear you come in.”
“What do you say about dinner at Kevin’s tonight? Let me make up for being such an ass about the interview. We can discuss the camp. What do you say?”
She said nothing at all, just eyed him through a narrowed gaze as if she wasn’t sure whether or not to believe him.
It was enough to hurt a guy’s pride. “I don’t want you angry with me anymore. And I don’t want you thinking about not being married to me, either.” He nuzzled his cheek against the top of her head.
“Finally got your attention, did I?”
“Of course you got my attention.” He squelched a wave of irritation and forced his tone to remain conciliatory. “Let’s fix things. We don’t stay angry at each other. That’s what other couples do, not us.”
She still didn’t reply, so he tried again.
“Come on, Jilly.” He coaxed. “Kevin owes me for missing his last appointment. I’m sure he’ll give us a last-minute table. We love going to Kevin’s. It’s our special place.”
Would she give him a chance to make peace so they could get past this or would she keep hanging on to her anger?
She frowned, considering, but didn’t pull away. He considered that a good sign.
He tried again. “I don’t want you to have to cook. Not even to reheat last night’s leftovers. You’ve had a busy day. I want you to relax and be waited on tonight.”
“You don’t like going out after you get home from work.”
Okay, she was talking to him. That was a step in the right direction.
“Doesn’t matter what I like. I’m trying to apologize here.”
His words hung in the air between them, and he could feel her indecision in the way she’d started relaxing against him.
He went in for the kill. “I’m groveling, Jilly. Come on. Let me fix this.”
“You think dinner’s going to do that?”
“It’s a start. We’ll discuss the camp. I’m sure we can come up with something. We always do.”
He tightened his grip until she came up close against him, all her curves touching him in exactly the right places, sparking life signs just as she always did. “I want you to know how much I appreciate you and everything you do for me.”
“I’m your wife and office manager. I’m doing my jobs.”
“Which I don’t tell you often enough how much I appreciate.”
“I know you do.”
Tipping her head back, she gazed up into his face, the distance in her eyes beginning to melt away. She slipped her arms around his waist and rested her head on his shoulder.
First base.
“You don’t think it’s kind of late for dinner?” she asked.
“If we get a move on, we could probably be seated by seven-thirty.”
“It’ll be after eight by the time we’re served.”
Michael knew what was happening here, and if he didn’t catch her quickly, she’d talk herself out of his thoughtful gesture. “I wanted to do something nice so you know how much I appreciate the way you handle my patients.”
“Especially when you get behind?”
“Most especially when I get behind.”
“I owed you. For taking care of Widow Serafine.”
She was testing him, mentioning the camp to see how he responded. He walked a razor-sharp line with his response and shot for the right mix of repentant and sincere. Any defense would only lose the ground he’d gained.
“Widow Serafine is our caretaker. If we take good care of her, she’ll take good care of us, don’t you think?”
Again, she peered at him as if deciding whether or not to take him seriously.
“You know me, Jillian. Mr. Sweet Guy. That’s why you married me, remember? I’d never leave a lady without her teeth.”
The second it was out of his mouth, Michael knew it had been exactly the right thing to say. He could feel the last of her resistance melt away as she relaxed against him.
Second base.
He didn’t pressure her with words, just rested his chin on the top of her head, inhaling the scent of her, always fresh and feminine, not perfumed but reminding him of the way the air smelled after a spring rain.
He could see their reflections in the vanity mirror. Jillian looked sexy with so much bare skin revealed, her arms relaxed as she held him around the waist. He liked the way they looked together, right, the long lines of her body molding against him to create the perfect fit.
“He wants sex.”
“I always want sex with you.” He dropped his voice an octave into what Jillian always called his bedroom voice. “If you think it’s too late, we can always skip dinner and go straight for dessert.”
That statement didn’t have