A Daddy For Her Daughter. Tina Beckett
He opened the door and stepped through it. She wasn’t with a patient. Instead she sat at a desk with two simple chairs in front of it. The work surface was surprisingly devoid of any clutter, as was the room itself, giving off an almost austere vibe. Her fingers rested on the keyboard of a laptop, and a framed picture, its back turned to him, sat on the right-hand corner.
If he were smart, he’d toss a quick question about her health and leave. But he didn’t. And the slight widening of her eyes as she looked up told him that he was the last person she’d expected to see that morning.
They were even, then. Because she’d been the last person he’d expected to see beneath that cat costume at the convention.
“Did your sister make it to your place okay the other night?”
Her eyes shifted from his before coming back again. “Oh...um, yes, thank you. I appreciated your help at the hotel.”
“Just doing my job.”
And had he just been doing his job when he’d driven her home and installed himself on her couch with her cat? Hell, no. He’d wanted to be there.
He’d wanted to stay, actually. Which was crazy.
“Of course you were. But I’m still glad you happened to be there.”
Damn. He’d sounded like an ass without meaning to. “I came by to make sure you’re okay. No lasting problems from the asthma attack?”
“None.” She smiled, and a slight warmth infused it. “I’m a pulmonologist. I’ve given myself the all clear to return to work.”
He smiled back. “Is that why you went into pulmonary medicine? Your asthma?”
“No.” She hesitated. “That was because of my younger sister. She had cystic fibrosis. She died two years ago.”
His insides tightened at the sadness in her eyes.
Kaleb wasn’t the only one who’d known loss—who’d had someone special succumb to disease. No one ever expected it to happen to them, though. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. We miss her terribly, but we were so lucky to have had her with us as long as we did. Patricia was sweet and funny, and we loved her very much.” Her hands clasped on her desk. “Roxy and I were both tested to see if we’re carriers of the disease. Thank God we’re not.”
Carriers. Pain wrenched through his gut.
At least she and Roxy had lucked out.
Maddy reached for the picture and angled it a little more toward her. A photo of her dead sister?
Trying to erase the whole subject of genetic testing from his head, he threw out the first question that came to mind. “Are your parents still living?”
She motioned to one of the chairs. “My mom is. My dad died in a tractor accident on their farm in Nebraska a few years ago.”
“I’m sorry again. Is your mom still working the farm?”
“She has people who do that for her.” She turned around and retrieved a carafe on the credenza behind her desk. “I can finally offer you that cup of coffee, if you still want one?”
If she was offering, she must not be in too much of a hurry to get rid of him. He rounded one of the chairs and settled into it, not quite sure why he was in such a hurry to stay. “Only if you’re having a cup as well.”
“I am.” Standing, she poured coffee into two plain white mugs and handed him one. “It should still be hot. As for the sweet...” She pushed a sugar bowl across the desk.
So she remembered his words. He hadn’t been himself that night. Then again, he hadn’t been in a beautiful woman’s home in quite a while either. His encounters tended to happen at hotels or at his place. The leaving was too awkward otherwise. His instinct was to make his exit as soon as the act was over. And that didn’t pose as much of a problem when it was at his apartment. Maybe because it was his territory and there was no need to try to choose a time frame. He left that up to the woman. As long as she left. So far, it hadn’t been an issue. The women he chose to spend time with were just as anxious to keep things simple and fluid. It was easier that way for both of them.
He spooned a teaspoon of sugar into his cup and stirred it, ignoring the familiar pang that occurred whenever he thought too much about the past. About his part in the failure of his marriage.
“What about you?” she asked. “Any siblings?”
“Nope. I’m an only child.” He smiled. “And my parents are both alive and live here in Seattle.” No need to tell her about Grace. Or Janice. Or the divorce. Theirs had been a fairy-tale wedding—without the fairy-tale ending.
Madeleine touched the picture frame again. Maybe it was just a nervous habit. Or a way to ease the discomfort of having him in her office.
But why would it make her uncomfortable?
She hadn’t completely gone back to the stiff demeanor she’d adopted every time he’d seen her in the past. She still seemed incredibly warm, including the deep red curls, which were now very much loose and free around her head and neck. He remembered twining one around his finger two nights ago in her kitchen, just as his eyes had dropped to her lips. Thank goodness she’d read her text or he would have kissed her right then and there. To hell with knowing who she was. She’d been affected as well. He’d seen it in the dilation of her pupils as he’d stepped closer. If not for her sister, the night might have ended very differently.
Thank goodness for small miracles. He took a bracing sip of his coffee, watching her. “Are you going to the staff meeting?”
She glanced at her watch and then blinked. “I didn’t realize it was almost that time. Yes, I’m going. They’re discussing budgets and I want to make sure my department is covered.” She took a drink of her own brew. He noticed she took it black. The coffee was dark and strong, just how he liked it.
“Mind if I go down with you? My budget doesn’t work quite the same way as the other departments, but I still like to make sure I know what’s going on.”
“That’s right. You do concierge medicine.”
Surely she already knew that. Because he sure as hell had already known what department she worked in the second that cat head had come off.
Why would he think she knew anything about him? Was it a hit to his ego that someone might not know who he was? Maybe he should find out.
“Did you know it was me in that hotel lobby, Madeleine?” He took another deep pull on his coffee.
“It’s Maddy.” Her glance flitted away, her cheeks turning pink. “And, yes, of course I recognized you.”
Maddy. It fit her. Then again, so did her full name. It was as if she had more than one personality wrapped up in that cute little body. He sat back and crossed his foot over his knee. He also liked that she wanted him to use the shortened version of her name, although he had no idea why.
And why had she blushed? Maybe she hadn’t liked being caught in a vulnerable moment, like during her asthma attack. Who could blame her? He wouldn’t have cared for being in that position either. “Does Roxy have asthma as well?”
“No. She’s as strong as an ox. Healthwise, anyway.” Madeleine said it with a twist to her mouth that made him wonder. Did she consider herself lacking in that area?
There were still things about her that intrigued him.
Just then there was some kind of commotion in the hallway. A patient emergency?
He set his coffee down and started to get up when something hit the door to Maddy’s office, causing it to shudder.
“Hey, wait! You can’t go in there.”
Kaleb was on his feet in an instant, heading to the