Color splashed across Joanna’s cheeks as she held open the door leading from the reception area. “Follow me, but I only have a few minutes.”
“That’s all I need,” he said. “For now.”
So much for not pushing. If he knew what was best, he’d stop with the innuendo. But for some reason, Joanna Blake unearthed his wicked side, trampled his control.
He followed her down the corridor, watching the gentle sway of her hips encased in black slacks, not jeans, but just as high impact.
“All the exam rooms are full, so this will have to do.” She stopped at a room set off in another alcove away from the main corridor, stepped to one side and allowed Rio to enter.
The place resembled something straight out of a bedand-breakfast inn, complete with a queen-size bed, rocking chair and redbrick fireplace. He found the decor to be surprisingly elegant, all flowers and lace, reminding him of his own home’s attic room, the one he’d offered to Joanna Blake, the reason why he was here. But first, he had a few other questions for her.
“What was Allison Cartwright doing here?”
“She’s considering using the center instead of the hospital.”
“Why?”
“Well, she’s still on probation at her new job, so she has no insurance, and she can’t really afford the hospital bill.”
“What about the baby’s father?”
“She told me he’s out of the picture.”
“The same thing she told me.” His thoughts about Allison began to falter when he homed in on Joanna’s mouth. Why the hell couldn’t he keep his eyes off her?
Glancing away, he said, “I’m sure the hospital would be willing to work something out financially. I’d be willing to do the same.”
Joanna frowned. “That’s for her to decide, don’t you agree?”
“We’ll see,” he said, thinking he sounded like a jerk. He wasn’t necessarily opposed to what Joanna Blake did for a living. He even understood the need in some cases. But he still couldn’t get past his concern for babies being born off hospital premises, although he had to admit the place wasn’t anything at all like what he’d expected.
He shot a glance at the open door to his right and noticed a whirlpool centered in a large bathroom.
He strolled around the room and stopped at the bed, testing its firmness with a push of his palm. “What are the rates for this honeymoon suite?”
“For your information, it’s the Rose Room, one of our birthing facilities,” she said, impatience evident in her voice, her rigid frame. “And our rates are about one-third the cost of standard hospital rooms.”
Her defensive tone made Rio all the more determined to play with her a little, in a figurative sense, at least at the moment. “Nice bed. Nice place. No stirrups?”
“No stirrups. We don’t need them. But we do have ultrasound equipment and fetal monitors, many of those other little medical marvels you find at a hospital.”
He inclined his head toward the bathroom. “What’s the whirlpool for?” As if he didn’t know.
“Water births.”
He rubbed his chin. “Oh. I thought maybe this doubled as a conception room, too.”
A smile began to form on her lips but soon faded. “That usually happens before the patient comes to us.”
“Usually? Ah, so someone has used this room for a little extracurricular activity.” He had no trouble picturing that happening—with him and Joanna Blake.
She rolled her eyes to the vaulted ceiling. “No one’s committed any hanky-panky in this room. Not that I’m aware of. At least not me.”
Rio was more than relieved over that admission. He moved to the bathroom’s open doorway and stared inside, one hip cocked against the frame. “I think this room would be better put to use with a bottle of champagne, some candles, and a man and a woman intent on making a baby, not having one.”
“Very amusing, Doctor.”
He faced her again and grinned. “Do you have something against romance, Ms. Blake?”
“I don’t have time for romance. I do have several patients to see, so what do you need?”
Rio sent another pointed look at the bed. When he brought his attention back to her, he noticed she was looking at the same spot, maybe even imagining them on that bed, or some bed, tangled together in sheets, sweat and great sex. Or maybe he was caught in the wishful-thinking trap.
Clearing his throat to gain her attention, he said, “I don’t have a lot of time, either, so I’ll get to the point.”
“Hallelujah.”
He ignored her sarcasm and continued. “I’m here to find out if you’ve come to a decision yet about moving in with me.”
Her eyes widened, looked panicked. She rushed to the door and closed it before facing him again. “Keep your voice down, please. I don’t want the staff to think that I’m moving in moving in with you.”
“Then you are going to move in with me?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Yeah, you did.”
“What I said was…” She threaded her bottom lip through her teeth. “I don’t remember what I said.”
He strolled to her, hands jammed in his pockets to keep from touching her even though he really, really wanted to. “Let me refresh your memory. Last night you said you’d think about it, a minute ago you said yes.”
“I did no such thing.”
He inched a little closer until they were almost touching and braced one hand on the door, above her head. “Maybe not in so many words, but the message I got was pretty clear. So when do you want to do it?”
Her breath hitched. “Do what?”
He could think of one particular response to that but decided to give her the proper one. “Move in with me. How about this weekend?”
Her gaze roamed to his mouth. “You don’t give up easily, do you?”
Not when he wanted something badly enough, and he had to admit he wanted her badly. But she wasn’t a catch-me-if-you-can kind of girl, so he damn sure better proceed with caution. “No, I don’t give up easily, especially when a woman’s life might be at stake. So is Saturday good for you?”
Indecision warred in her expression. She opened her mouth, shut it, then opened it again. “Okay, I guess. I’m not on call, so this weekend would be fine.”
“Great. I’m not on call, either.” His first instinct was to kiss her until both of them struggled for air. He went with his second—a simple smile. “What made you decide?”
“My son.”
He expected that, admired it even, but he’d like to think that living with him wouldn’t be such a sorry prospect for either one of them. Although, come to think of it, he’d never lived with a woman for more than a weekend. He wasn’t sure how he would adjust to having her there all the time, keeping him at arm’s length, at least for the time being. But he was more than willing to try it, see where it led.
He stepped back and grinned at her stern features. “Hey, don’t look so serious. We might have a good time.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and sighed. “I’m not looking for a good time, Dr. Madrid. I’m looking for a safe place to stay. A temporary place to stay.”