Dr. Dad. Julianna Morris
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Agers.’ You know, crystals and nonconventional spiritualism... that kind of thing. They were disappointed when I preferred a different life-style.”
“You can say that again. Jeez, you even got married. What a terrible blow that must have been. Don’t you know that marriage is the primary cause of divorce?”
She gave him a dirty look, equaling the one he’d given her not long before. “What do you want, Dr. Bradley?”
He clucked at her. “I’m not your doctor. You made sure of that, didn’t you?”
Starr was beginning to regret ever setting eyes on Noah Bradley. But she couldn’t regret kissing him, not completely. If she’d felt a tenth of the sizzle kissing her ex-husband as she’d felt kissing Noah, her marriage would have lasted a lot longer. Of course, she and Chase had never been together long enough in the same place to make anything last...including sizzle.
“I’m impulsive. You said so yourself,” Starr felt obliged to point out, though she didn’t expect Dr. Bradley to understand. She did plenty of rash things she later regretted. On the other hand, she’d bet Noah always had good, solid reasons for his actions. He was that kind of man.
“I think calling you impulsive is too mild,” Noah drawled. “Running into a burning house goes way beyond impulsive.”
“I didn’t run, I climbed. And it was perfectly safe. By the way, how is Kitty?”
“Kitty didn’t actually belong to us, but he’s been adopted. In less than twenty-four hours he’s ruined a silk tie, eaten a salmon fillet without permission and climbed the living room drapes.” Noah looked heavenward as though asking for divine intervention. “When I tried to get him down he catapulted off my shoulder and landed in the aquarium. Unfortunately, the top was off.”
A choking sound escaped from Starr’s throat.
He frowned. “It isn’t funny. I nearly lost my ear in the process.”
“I’ll bet the fish didn’t like it, either.” Starr laughed as she envisioned Noah Bradley in a battle of wills with “Kitty.” Boy, she wished she’d been there. It would have been priceless.
“Now that Kitty is fully aware of the aquarium, he’s spent hours in front of it, batting at the fish,” Noah concluded gloomily. “That animal splashed water and fish for ten feet, then made mincemeat out of me when I tried to rescue him.”
“I know,” Starr said, with somewhat less humor than before. She flexed her hands, which still bore the marks of Kitty’s first “rescue.” His nine lives were being rapidly depleted.
“Let me see how you’re healing,” Noah offered.
“Uh...I...” She stuttered to a halt. Her feelings toward Dr. Bradley were a peculiar mixture of curiosity and screeching alarm. “I thought you were angry at me,” she said quickly. “Because of the picture...and everything.”
“I am.” For an instant his expression turned somber. “But I’d hate for you to get an infection.”
Starr swallowed, contemplating the dangers of getting close to Noah Bradley. He was obviously an upstanding member of the establishment, yet the dark heat in his eyes tugged at her, coaxing an elemental response. No man—including her ex-husband—had ever made her feel that way.
Until now.
And that made him dangerous. How dangerous Starr didn’t want to find out. She’d learned the hard way that attraction didn’t last, and that ten seconds of fleeting pleasure wasn’t worth messing up the bed.
“Starr?”
“Okay, but you’re still not my doctor,” she said hastily. Foolishly. Becoming his patient would have been an easy way to protect herself from...him. “We’re just comparing battle scars, understand?”
His slow, reluctant smile spoke volumes, including a reminder of the kiss they’d shared. Well, hell. Even though nothing would come of it, how could he say being impulsive was so bad?
“If this is ‘show and tell,’ there are a few other places I wouldn’t mind seeing,” he suggested.
To Starr’s astonishment, she had to struggle to keep from turning red. Lord, she hadn’t blushed since she was a teenager, and never to such an obvious gambit. But then, Noah Bradley was no teenager, and a far cry from the tough newsmen she usually encountered.
“Here,” she said, holding her hands out in front of her.
Noah took them and examined the healing wounds. His fingers were strong and hard, yet sensitive enough to catch the quickening rush of her pulse. “Pretty good,” he murmured. “No signs of infection. What about the scratches on your shoulder?”
“I’m hardly going to show you them, am I?” Starr asked, trying to free her hands.
Crisp, salt-laden air blew inward from the ocean, unaffected by the sunshine. Even so, Starr could feel the warmth from Noah’s body. He’d be pleasant to snuggle up with on a cold night—much better than an electric blanket.
Jeez Get a grip.
Her nose wrinkled as she scolded herself. It had to be the inactivity. She was always busy, always moving. She might work in the wilds of Africa for months at a time, then spend the next fourteen weeks rushing from airplane to airplane. Whenever her frantic life-style got stale, she came home to Astoria; a few days with her parents were guaranteed to give her wanderlust again.
But was that what she really wanted? To keep racing around the world, without belonging anywhere? Lately she’d been feeling a growing restlessness, though she didn’t quite understand why.
Starr shivered, but more from uncertainty than from cold. A moment later Noah shrugged his coat off and dropped it around her shoulders. It was a chivalrous thing to do, the kind of act he probably did without thinking.
Where did men like that come from? Or, she decided, where had men like that gone to? He certainly wasn’t like any of the hard-nosed professionals she’d encountered in her travels. She’d dealt with them all—environmentalists, poachers, State Department officials, even a tough old naturalist who hadn’t wanted to share his lions with her until he’d discovered her affinity with felines.
Noah was different. Chivalrous and old-fashioned. Though...the sensual way he watched her was anything but old-fashioned.
“What are you thinking?” he asked quietly.
She shook her head. “Nothing. That is...I’ve been wondering. That kitchen fire in Mrs. Dinsdale’s house put her out of commission for a while—I understand she’s gone to visit her sister during the cleanup. Maybe you’d consider letting me take Becky for a weekend, or maybe even a week or two. My parents have lots of room and they love children.”
Abruptly Noah stepped back, a remote expression on his face. “That’s nice of you, but I still don’t think it’s a good idea. Becky needs routine and stability.”
Starr curled her fingers in loose fists. She knew it was important for a child to have routine. Hadn’t she always wished for normal parents herself? Yet she didn’t think Noah’s motives were entirely innocent.
“Anyway,” he said, “you’re out of the country a lot. It might not be good for Becky to get too attached to you. I think it. would be best for everyone if you limited your visits to casual contact.”
“Casual?” Starr narrowed her eyes. “Amelia was my best friend. She wanted me to be her daughter’s godmother. I don’t think ‘casual’ is what she had in mind.”
“If you cared about Amelia, you would have come home more often,” Noah muttered.
“I did care. Amelia was like a sister to me.”
“Really?” Bitterness edged his voice.
Starr could almost hear the “but” hanging in the air. But..:if she’d