Doctors in the Wedding

“Psychiatry.”

She nodded.

“I’d like to hear all about that—eventually.” He took a step toward her, searching her face questioningly.

She was keenly aware that she stood in front of him in a short nightie, a thin, open robe and bare legs and feet. He, too, had showered and changed since returning from the ranch. His dark hair was still just a little damp and he had swapped his Western wear for a pale blue shirt with loose khakis and brown slip-ons. Much more average and conservative clothing than what she’d seen him wear before—so why did she still find him so exciting?

“So you understand that I’m completely free to spend time with anyone I like?” he persisted. “You weren’t pushing me away today because you thought I was involved with someone else?”

“I didn’t exactly push you away.”

The look he gave her told her he knew better. “You made it clear enough that you wanted me to keep a distance. I didn’t know if that was because you didn’t want to cause gossip or because someone had warned you off or because you’d just lost interest, but I figured the only way to find out for sure was just to flat out ask you. I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable showing up at your door this way, so if you want me to go, just say the word.”

“I would love for you to stay awhile,” she answered with characteristic candor.

His expression lightening, he took another step forward.

She raised a hand, palm toward him. “However—”

He stopped, his smile fading again.

“I’m here this weekend for BiBi. She’s been my friend for a long time and I’m very fond of her. She’s planned every detail of this wedding so carefully and so eagerly. I would never do anything to put a cloud over it for her.”

He frowned. “Neither would I. But I don’t see how—”

“Upsetting Corinna would upset BiBi, too. And, well, BiBi and I have a little baggage from the past that I don’t want to pop up again. You seem to have made it clear—in a nice way, from what I gathered—that you don’t want to get tangled up with Corinna. Putting moves on me this weekend, instead, could be taken as a slap to her face.”

His expression was a cross between frustration and grim amusement. “Putting the moves on you? Is that what I’ve been doing?”

Her own mouth twitched. “Yes, Dr. Jones, I would say you did.”

She didn’t have to clarify by mentioning the kiss in the garden. The way his gaze lingered on her faint smile told her he, too, was remembering that particular move. “And if you hadn’t decided I’d be too much trouble, would those moves have been effective? Just for my own curiosity.”

She sighed a little. “They were most definitely effective.”

He inched a little closer. “Madison—”

This time when she raised her hand, it landed on his chest. She left it there, savoring the warmth that seeped through his shirt and into her palm. “You are certainly trouble.”

He covered her fingers with his own, and the warmth spread into her arm and beyond. “Is it wrong that I rather like you seeing me in that way?”

“Oh, I think you could be underestimating yourself.” Her voice had a slightly husky edge to it now.

Lifting his free hand, he stroked a fingertip along the line of her jaw. “Maybe I’m just different with you.”

If he didn’t kiss her soon, she was going to melt into a puddle right at his feet, she thought with a swallow. She might just do that even if he did kiss her. She was pretty sure she

was about to find out.

Leaning toward him, she spoke with her mouth almost touching his. “Whatever it is, I’m finding it very difficult to resist your particular type of trouble. Just do me one favor, will you?”

His arms were already around her waist, gently tugging her closer so that their bodies met. There was no doubt that he was feeling as reckless and hungry as she was, but he held back just long enough to mutter, “Name it.”

“Let’s just keep whatever happens private. Our own secret weekend adventure. Even though we don’t have to sneak around behind anyone’s back, exactly, I’d prefer to keep this just between the two of us.”

Jason brushed his lips against hers, making her crave more. “I have no problem with that.”

Somewhat reassured that she could have her cake—wedding cake, as it were—without hurting anyone else, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “Then kiss me, Jones.”