Renegade Millionaire by Kristi Gold Page B

Joanna briefly wondered if maybe he was married. Such a shame if that were true, but she had a hard time believing Allison would fall into that trap. However, Joanna knew all too well how persuasive men could be, as well as deceptive. “Would you like me to tell Dr. Madrid about your decision?”
    Allison frowned. “In all fairness, I need to tell him myself, but if you could just sort of pave the way so he won’t be quite as shocked.”
    â€œNo problem,” she said, although she didn’t exactly relish the idea. “I’ll mention it to him tonight.”
    â€œTonight?”
    Oh, heavens, how was she going to get out of this one? “Uh, well, yes. If I see him tonight. For some reason. That’s possible, if there’s some reason for seeing him.” Wow, Joanna. That sounded really coherent.
    Allison sent her a knowing smile. “I think the midwife doth protest too much.” She leaned forward and lowered her voice. “Is he as good as he looks?”
    Right on cue, heat rushed from Joanna’s neck to her scalp. “I wouldn’t know.” Not that she didn’t want to know. Actually she did know on a limited basis.
    â€œAre you sure?”
    She was sure about one thing—she needed to end this conversation now. After a quick glance at the clock, Joanna said, “Oh, look. It’s time for my next patient.”
    Allison rose from the chair with a grace Joanna had always longed for and started toward the door. “Okay, Nurse Blake, I’m not going to bug you since we’re all entitled to our little secrets.” She circled her slender fingers around the doorknob and turned to Joanna with a wily grin. “But as soon as you find out how good the doctor really is, be sure to let me in on it.”
    With that she breezed out the door, and Joanna resisted the urge to throw water on her face to cool the sudden heat.
    Water. Soothing warm water, bubbles twirling over her body, gentle fingers dancing over tender flesh…
    Joanna slapped her palms to her cheeks as if she could jar the memories from her mind.
    Darn Rio Madrid. When she did see him again, she would make it a point to mention Allison Cartwright. And she’d make it quite clear that the game was up, she didn’t want to play, so he’d best keep his distance.
    Now if she only remembered to keep hers.

Six
    A fter two lengthy deliveries, Rio arrived home early Friday morning slightly before dawn. He built a fire in the den, stripped off his shirt and collapsed onto the sofa with Gabby.
    Since Joanna had moved in with him two weeks ago, he’d barely seen her due to their conflicting schedules, at least not as much as he’d wanted. They had shared dinner a few nights, and he did have to admit that he’d greatly enjoyed the meals she’d prepared, their casual conversations, and definitely the way she always made him smile with some amusing story about her son. He appreciated the fact that she really listened to him when he’d had a particularly tough day, appreciated their shared concern for their patients. Yet he’d sensed the discomfort those times when—unable to resist—he’d done nothing more than reach out and touch her face or her hand.
    She should consider herself lucky, Rio decided. He’d wanted to touch her elsewhere, kiss her everywhere. He’d fought to keep his hands to himself, battled to keep from coming up behind her while she’d stood at the stove cooking, wanting badly to turn up the heat by slipping his hand inside the baggy sweatpants she tended to wear after business hours, to make her react the way she had in the hot tub. But he’d decided to stick to his guns and wait for her to make the next move, even if it was killing him to do so.
    Thoughts of making love to her—really making love to her—made him brick hard, made him want to groan with frustration. He lowered his fly an inch to provide some