A Baby Of Her Own

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‘Not this sort of play. I’ve got two left feet.’

‘I didn’t notice.’

‘You were leading me.’ She paused. ‘I didn’t know you could dance like that.’

‘I’m a bit out of practice.’

‘Could have fooled me.’ If that was out of practice, heaven only knew what he’d be like when he was back in the swing of things!

‘Oh, Mr Taylor…’ a breathy voice asserted beside them.

Melissa the Maneater from the neonatal unit, Jodie thought with a sigh, recognising the brunette in the skimpy dress.

‘I was very impressed with your…’ big pause ‘…dancing. Could we?’

‘I believe I’m Dr Price’s partner for this evening,’ Sam said, stepping closer to Jodie.

‘Jodie won’t mind, will you, sweetie?’

It was more of a command than a question. Jodie lifted her hands in surrender. She had to face it: men preferred small and slinky, not strapping and Amazon. In any contest with Melissa, she’d lose. ‘Be my guest.’

It was another fast number, and Sam dutifully twirled Melissa round the floor and somehow managed to evade her clutches for the next dance. Jodie merely sat on the sidelines, watching him and wondering what made him tick. One minute he was Mr Frosty, completely unreadable; the next he was shy and retiring; and now here he was, the star of the dance floor. She couldn’t work him out.

Four dances later, he was back at her side. ‘You’re supposed to be my partner for this evening.’

‘So?’

‘So, dance with me. Come on, Doc-a Dodo. Playtime.’

So he’d heard Amy’s pronunciation of her name, a nickname that half the ward staff had adopted. She flushed deeply. ‘I—’

‘Dance with me, Jodie.’ The sultry silver gleam in his eyes made her nod mutely and join him on the dance floor.

She wished she hadn’t when the music suddenly turned soft and Stuart started to sing a ballad. Sam drew her closer so that she was forced to put her arms round his neck for balance, and they swayed together in time to the music. She could smell his clean, fresh scent so clearly; the feel of his arms round her, together with the sweet seductive spell of the music, had her resting her head on his shoulder a few moments later.

Sam rested his cheek against her hair. He’d thought this would be a test he couldn’t cope with, holding Jodie in his arms. But it was easy. So very, very easy. She felt right; she belonged there. Her skin smelled of honey, and she was warm and soft and sweet and…

He couldn’t help himself. Her neck looked graceful and her skin was soft, and he couldn’t resist touching his lips to the curve of her neck. And once he’d kissed her there, he couldn’t stop. She felt so good. He needed to touch her, taste her. He trailed his lips up towards her ear, soft butterfly kisses, and felt her tremble in his arms.

So she was affected by this as much as he was.

‘Jodie,’ he breathed softly in her ear.

‘Yes?’ She lifted her head to look straight into his eyes. Hers were very green and very large, and her mouth was too tempting to resist.

His lips were just millimetres away from hers when the music changed again, to a bouncy, uptempo song. They’d both been in so deep that they hadn’t even heard the ballad finish and Stuart introduce the next number. Shocked, they pulled apart and stared at each other. They’d almost kissed—in front of just about all their colleagues.

‘Mr Taylor?’

‘I, er, yes, Megan.’ Sam forced himself to smile at the young nurse who’d interrupted them.

‘Could I have this dance, please?’

He looked at Jodie, who spread her hands. ‘It’s a party. You’re meant to dance.’

‘Then let’s dance, Megan,’ Sam said.

Relieved at being let off so easily, Jodie made a quick exit to the loos. She was still shaking from that almost-kiss, and she nearly tripped several times because her knees were still doing jelly impersonations. How could she have been so stupid? Not only had she joined in with the lengthy skit in the Christmas revue, targeting Sam’s remoteness, she’d almost let him kiss her in front of everyone—meaning that everyone on the ward would tease them mercilessly for weeks!

What would that kiss have been like? When he’d taken her into his arms, every single nerve-end had been aware of him. She’d felt the lean hardness of his body against hers, been aware of the strength in those arms and yet also the gentleness. Her temperature had risen sharply and the lightest touch of his lips against her skin had sent desire shooting through her. She’d felt her breasts swelling, her body softening with need for him. And if his mouth had found hers…

She leaned against the washbasin, staring at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were over-bright and her lips were red and swollen, as if he’d actually kissed her. And kissed her very thoroughly indeed. ‘You look a complete state, Price,’ she told her reflection. ‘And what did you think you were doing?’ Though she didn’t particularly want to hear the answer to that.

‘Are you all right, Jo-jo?’ Fiona asked, coming in to find Jodie in a dream.

‘Just tired,’ Jodie lied.

‘Well, that’ll teach you to burn the candles at both ends. Doctors nowadays—no stamina,’ Fiona teased. ‘By the way, just what did you do to Mr Frosty?’

‘Nothing!’

Too swift, too hot a denial, Jodie realised with horror. She’d just made things ten times worse. Thank God Fiona wasn’t one of the gossip-mongers, or she’d really have been in trouble.

‘Well, whatever you said to him, he’s been human tonight. More than just the clever doctor who terrifies the hell out of the staff. If you can keep him out of his shell, Jo-jo, I think we’ll all benefit,’ Fiona said thoughtfully.

‘It isn’t up to me.’

Fiona’s lips twitched. ‘Let’s play!’

Jodie laughed. ‘I’ll never live that down, will I?’

‘Not for a while,’ the ward sister admitted, smiling.

Finally, Jodie pulled herself together and returned to the dance floor.

‘At last.’ Sam materialised beside her almost instantly. ‘You OK?’

‘Just tired,’ Jodie said. ‘I think I’ll call it a night.’

He nodded. ‘I’ll drive you home.’

She shook her head, mindful of Fiona’s comment. Nobody wanted Sam to go back into his shell, but on the other hand she didn’t think she could spend much more time in his company without making a complete fool of herself. ‘Stay and enjoy yourself,’ she said. ‘I’ll make my own way back.’

‘You will not,’ said Sam. ‘For a start, there’s no way you could have cycled in wearing that dress.’

‘Taxi,’ Jodie informed him. ‘I’m just going to call one.’

He shook his head. ‘I’m not waiting out in the cold with you when my car’s just round the corner.’

‘You don’t have to wait.’

‘Yes, I do. You’re my partner for this evening,’ he reminded her. ‘So stop arguing. I’ll drive you home.’

How could she resist? ‘Yes, sir,’ she said meekly.

He didn’t say much on the way out to the car park, and no one commented that they were leaving early—they were all too busy enjoying themselves. Jodie climbed into Sam’s car and he drove her home. She noted that he didn’t need to ask directions. Clearly he’d remembered the way to her house from Mario’s.

When they arrived at Jodie’s house, she looked at him. ‘Would you like to come in for a coffee?’

His face was unreadable. ‘Thanks, but I really ought to be going.’

‘Of course.’ Jodie hoped that her disappointment didn’t show on her face. He was right, anyway. If he came in for coffee and the fire between them started again, and he kissed her, and—She caught her thoughts. No. Not now. Not now, or she’d end up throwing herself at him and embarrassing them both. ‘Thanks for the lift,’ she said quietly.

‘Pleasure.’ He paused. ‘Jodie…’

Every nerve was suddenly aware of him. Was he going to kiss her? She looked at him, wide-eyed, and her tongue came out to moisten her dry lips.

He was going to kiss her. She could see it in his eyes. Even in the shadowy depths of the car, she could see the sultry silver gleam—he wanted her as much as she wanted him. Now he was going to reach up, cup her face and slowly lower his mouth to hers. He was going to nibble at her lower lip until she opened her mouth and kissed him properly, and then—

‘See you on Monday,’ he said.

‘Right.’ She banked down the intense surge of disappointment. How stupid could she get? Of course he hadn’t been about to kiss her. That almost-kiss, before, had been in the heat of the moment. They’d been in the middle of a party, with soft music playing and everyone around them full of Christmas cheer—they’d both been carried away by events around them, that was all. He wasn’t going to kiss her in the middle of the street in his car on a freezing cold night.

Or anywhere else, for that matter, or he’d have taken up her offer of coffee.

‘See you,’ she said, trying to sound as neutral as possible. She climbed out of the car and closed the door very carefully—although she felt more like slamming it, she didn’t want Sam to think her a sulky, childish brat.

Sam waited in the car, watching until she’d unlocked her door and was safely inside. Then he closed his eyes and rested his head on the steering-wheel. He’d been so close to losing his head. He’d wanted to drag Jodie into his arms and kiss her senseless. He could still remember the feel of her skin against his mouth and it had taken all his will-power to refuse her offer of coffee. If he’d accepted, he knew he’d have spent the rest of the night in her bed, their bodies tangled together even in sleep.