Kate Hardy - A Baby Of Her Own

Sam burst out laughing. ‘You’re starting to sound like me.’

‘You mean, old?’ she teased.

‘Listen, you, I’d hardly started at infant school when you were born.’

‘Uh-huh.’ Jodie tapped her nose meaningfully. ‘I believe you.’

To his surprise, Sam was thoroughly enjoying himself. How long had it been since he’d had some fun? Excluding Mario’s…too long, he thought. When his marriage had disintegrated, he’d buried himself in work and avoided the social side of hospital life completely.

Right now, he wanted to have fun. And if Jodie thought he was an old fogey, she was about to learn something! ‘Come on. Let’s dance,’ he said to her.

‘Dance?’

‘Move your feet, wiggle about a bit in time to music, that sort of thing.’

Was this really Sam Taylor, Mr Frosty, talking? Jodie thought. But the offer was too good to resist. ‘Let’s go,’ she said, putting her plate down on a convenient table.

Dance. She’d expected him maybe to do what everyone else at the party was doing—as he’d put it, ‘move your feet, wiggle about a bit’. But, no, Sam Taylor could really dance. When Stuart’s band switched to a rock ’n’ roll number, Sam was spinning Jodie round and getting her to do all sorts of complicated things that would have had Matt goggling at his clumsy kid sister’s performance.

When the music stopped, she was out of breath. And then she became aware that she and Sam were the only two on the floor—everyone else was standing watching them, applauding and cheering. Yet again that evening Jodie’s face clashed with her dress, and she retreated to the table where she’d left her plate.

‘Come on. Play’s good for you,’ Sam teased.

‘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.