His sexy smile wavered just a bit. He stopped less than an arm’s length from her. “I’m courting you.”
Marilyn’s mind went blank. Her heart melted. “Oh.” Her laughter was nervous. “Does anyone even use that word anymore?”
Warrick’s midnight eyes smiled. “All right. I’m trying to get into your pants.”
Her gaze caressed his well-muscled chocolate torso, then dropped to his long, powerful legs. “It’s working.” Her voice was husky.
“It is?” The boyish pleasure in his smile made her laugh.
She tossed him a playful grin. “Scrambled eggs and bacon are very seductive.”
Marilyn took the tray from him and carried it to the maple and glass coffee table. She placed each of the plates, silverware sets, and glasses of orange juice onto the table before settling into an armchair.
She saluted him with a forkful of scrambled eggs. “This is great. Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
Marilyn noticed the wicked twinkle in his midnight eyes.
They enjoyed the breakfast in comfortable silence until Marilyn’s curiosity got the better of her. “How early did you get up this morning?”
Warrick sensed her nerves were as unsettled as his. The feeling reminded him of their first morning-after three years ago. He’d second-guessed every word and gesture, and had known she’d been doing the same. They’d laughed at themselves, then made love again.
He tucked the memory away. Warrick’s eyes caressed Marilyn. Her gold camisole highlighted the honeyed tones of her skin. The material flowed from her sculpted shoulders and over her full breasts like a waterfall. It left nothing to his imagination, especially not the reaction she was having to him.
“Early enough to cook your favorite breakfast.” Warrick balanced his plate in one hand and held his fork in the other.
She teased him with her tone. “Ah, yes. Your grand seduction. We’ve never had a problem in the bedroom, Rick. It’s all of the interference outside that’s putting the strain on our marriage.”
His grip tightened around his fork. “Our marriage is between you and me.”
“Tell that to the media and your fans.” She gathered a bite of egg with her fork. “They seem to think they have a stake in our relationship.”
“Only if you let them.”
The flash of regret in her eyes scattered the last remnants of humor. “One of my patients left me yesterday.”
Warrick’s eyes widened. “Why?”
Marilyn hesitated. “She doesn’t want her baby delivered by a doctor who would divorce Rick Evans.”
“We’re not getting divorced.” Warrick stood firm, masking his fear.
“That’s what I told her.”
His thoughts spun with relief. Did she mean it? “And?”
“She didn’t believe me. She’d read about our pending divorce in the newspaper and the newspaper wouldn’t lie. Her words.”
Warrick released a frustrated breath. “I’m sorry, Mary. Sometimes fans get carried away. But that’s not a reflection on you.”
Marilyn dropped her fork onto her nearly empty plate. “I’ve cared for her since the start of her pregnancy. She’s entering her third trimester. And now I’m not going to be there for the delivery.”
Warrick heard raw disappointment in Marilyn’s voice. He wanted to find the reporter who’d falsely written that he and Marilyn were divorcing and make sure he never lied about them—or anyone else—ever again. He wanted to hold his wife and reassure her that her patient would return and no other patients would leave. But he couldn’t do any of those things.
He stood and lowered his empty plate to the tray on the coffee table. “The reason your patient left is her issue, not yours. Don’t let it get to you.”
She lifted wide, troubled eyes to his. “How could I not? Arthur blames me. He’s threatening to fire me if I cause any more disruptions in his hospital.”