Page 79 of The Cajun Doctor

“It’ll fit,” he assured her, having no idea if it would or not. More important, he liked the way she said “we.” And he liked the way she seemed to be jealous of the flirty sales clerk. And when he said, “It’ll fit,” he was thinking about something else entirely. That’s how pathetic he was becoming in his lust for her.

When they got to the checkout, she shoved him aside with a hip and handed the clerk a card with the Starr logo on it. Apparently, she got her groceries for free, not just a discount.

“You didn’t have to do that,” he said.

“Consider it payback for all the favors you’ve been doing for me.”

“I prefer another method of payback,” he said before he could bite his fool tongue.

She stopped pushing her cart in the middle of the parking lot. He stopped his cart, too. “You keep making insinuations like that, Daniel. Why is that?”

“Not insinuations. Fact,” he told her. “I’ve just come to a decision . . . no, not a decision . . . a realization . . . of inevitability. You and I are going to have sex.”

To his surprise, instead of slapping his face, or making a snarky remark, she paused for a moment, thinking, then leaned up to kiss his cheek. “You’re on, Doctor Dreamy.”

Oh. My. God! Hoisted on my own doctorly petard.

Chapter Seventeen

Moving along, or was it, moves abound? . . .

Once they were back at the plantation, Daniel kept touching her. Oh, not in any overt, noticeable way. Subtle. In passing.

And that blasted dimple, which had been invisible to her this morning, was now like a blinking neon light. Was he smiling more? Or was it just her overactive libido that was seeing things of a lustful nature in everything he did.

Not that dimples were lustful, exactly.

Who was she kidding? His single dimple had amped her horniness meter more than a few points. Forget shorts and a halter top. I should have worn armor.

And it wasn’t just the touching that disconcerted Samantha. The looks were just as bad. Smoldering. She’d only ever associated that word with romance novel heroes. Now she knew what it meant. Whew! Where is air-conditioning when it’s needed?

And “horniness meter”? Where had that crude word come from? Real classy, Samantha! If I’m not careful, I’ll be kicked out of the Sweet Southern Belle society, if there is such a society.

Before she did anything else, she checked on her animals while Daniel carried in the groceries. Even before she opened the sliding pocket door, she heard an angry bird, which just kept chirping nonstop, “Holy shit! Holy shit! Holy shit!”

“I’ll second that,” she replied, blowing the bird an air kiss.

The animals had already been fed and watered this morning, but they needed fresh water in this heat. The puppies were still in their crate, and two of the cats, Garfield and Felix, lay on their personal mats, content to stay put. All the other animals must be downstairs on the first level, or out back. Luckily, there was a small, as-yet-unrenovated half bath on this floor which had running water and little else.

With everything else on her agenda, she had to remember to deliver three of the puppies later this afternoon. She’d already notified her office that she wouldn’t be in today and cancelled her noontime meeting, but she should call for a report.

When she got downstairs, she found Daniel helping Angus to hose off the extra lawn furniture, old wrought iron pieces, he’d found in storage and arranged outside, under the tupelo tree, just in case they wanted to meet outside. Lily Beth was already reclining on the chaise, and the chairs were arranged around her. Samantha, Daniel, Angus, and Lily Beth would all participate in the meeting with Luc and John, who should be arriving shortly.

Daniel was updating Angus and Lily Beth on the medical test results as he hosed. Every couple seconds, he gave Emily a misty shower, without pausing from his conversation. The pig gazed up at him with adoration.

That was another thing Samantha needed to put on her list: cancelling Em’s psych appointment.

Maddie was outside, too, reclining in the sun. She gave Daniel a look that pretty much said, Spray Me and You Are Dead Cat Meat. Axel was there, too. Knowing of the Shepherd’s bad hip, she figured Angus must have helped the dog down the steps. A plastic Tupperware bowl of water sat next to Axel’s muzzle. Bless the boy!

When Daniel passed Samantha in the kitchen on the way to grabbing some old towels to wipe off the furniture, he just happened to brush against her butt as she was bent over attempting to plug in the Crock-Pot to an ancient baseboard electrical outlet.

She shot up to glare at him.

He just grinned, a big ol’ dimpled grin, and murmured, “Excuse me.”

Samantha put away the groceries and started the gumbo in the Crock-Pot, while Daniel found a power strip and hooked up the small appliances, including the Crock-Pot.

When he reached forward, she thought he was grabbing for her breasts, but, instead, he tsk-tsked at her assumption, and adjusted the bow on her halter top. “You were a bit lopsided,” he explained.