At the door O’Reilly looked back, a smug smile on his face. “’Twas a pleasure t’ meet ye, Dr. Hancock. Take care of the lassie, will ye?”
And then he was gone.
Doc took a deep breath, the biscuit forgotten in his hand.
Aggie was looking up at him, a question in her knowing green eyes. “Ah, I see. Doc, you’re not developing a case for me, are you?”
“What? No. I…” He gestured helplessly with the biscuit.
“Over supper the other night you told me about Ann Marie. She wasn’t the first girl to break your heart, was she?”
“No.”
Aggie’s smile rearranged her scars. “Companionship? Someone to talk to? Especially when you’re feeling guilt over Butler? A wounded woman, one for whom you feel both sympathy and responsibility? Those can lure a man into making a fool’s decision.”
“What fool’s decision?”
“You’re a smart man, Doc. Especially when it comes down to anything but yourself.” She reached out, taking his hand. “You think a woman like me don’t know the signs? Haven’t had men get that moon-eyed look you’ve started to give me?”
“What moon-eyed look?”
“The one you’re giving me right now, you fool. I could bat my eyes, tell you that with Sarah coming to town I was hanging on the edge of perdition. I could change my posture, just so.” She shifted slightly so that her muslin dress accented her breasts and narrow waist. “It would take me no more than five minutes, admitting how much I was going to miss you, and what a wonderful man you are. I could work you like putty around a windowsill. All I’d have to do is take this hand, lead you back to that examining room, bolt the door, and I’d have you wrapped up like a fly in a spiderweb.”
Doc blinked. “Aggie, I really don’t think you could…”
She stood, stepped around the desk to slip her arms around him. When she leaned her head on his chest he could smell her hair, feel her body pressed against his, conforming. Her breasts, hips, and thighs felt so firm. His heart began to pound, his penis rising.
Feeling it, she chuckled and stepped away. Retreating to the desk, she seated herself and arched a knowing but scarred eyebrow. “Eat your biscuits, Doc. I don’t want them getting cold. Ain’t that much baking powder left in Denver City with the trails closed.”
With a smug smile, she propped her elbows, laced her fingers together, and cradled her chin as she studied him with those thoughtful green eyes.
“How did you do that to me? I’m a physician, for Pete’s sake.”
“You’re a lonely and desperate man grasping at straws, Philip Hancock. A bloody fucking martyr ready to be led to the stake and set afire. Now, I been in that room back there hearing you talk about bodies, medicine, and relief. How long has it been since you bedded a woman? Be honest with me?”
“Maybe ten years.”
“A lamb to the slaughter.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
This time, there was radiance to her smile. “Because, Doc, these last weeks with you, they’ve been some of the finest in my entire life. I’ve never just lived with a man. I damn sure never expected to admire and trust one, let alone want to protect him. And as easy as it would be to trap you, all it would take would be the right words, the right look, and you could reel me in like a hooked fish.”
Doc felt his heart lurch, his muscles beginning to tremble. He whispered, “I’m sorry. I just wanted to make sure…”
“You can’t even finish a sentence, can you?”
“It would be easy to fall in love with you.”
“And what then? You want to keep me as a mistress? Maybe marry me?”
“I haven’t thought that far.”
“No. You haven’t. Right now you’re in the hot rush, Doc. Like you just took a swig of laudanum. So we fall into each other’s arms, ride the high. We laugh. We wear out the bed springs. What happens after the rush fades? When you finally come to your senses and realize you’re married to a cut-up whore? You going to buy me nice dull brown frock dresses and take me to the theater? Escort me to supper invitations at the Moffat house? Maybe even Governor Evans’s? Or up at Walter Cheesman’s fine mansion?”
“Don’t say it so bitterly.”
“I’m being frank. You always see the hope, the goodness in people. That’s one of the things I love about you. But high society? They’re a mean, backstabbing lot by nature. And they’ll torture you if you take a whore as a wife.”
“I’m lost here, Aggie. What do you want to do?”
She stood again, walking around the desk to place her hands on his chest. Looking up into his eyes, she said, “First off, for you, and only you, call me Bridget. Second, I won’t marry you. I won’t be your mistress, either. But I will…” She frowned. “Oh, hell.”
“What?”
“My God, Bridget, you fool,” she said to herself, “you’re smarter than this!”
“Smarter than what?” Doc cried.
She looked up at him, indecision in her normally self-possessed eyes. “I got where I am by being smart. Every instinct tells me this is a mistake, and it ain’t gonna end well.”
“Ag … Bridget, what are we talking about?”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Doc. And I sure as hell don’t want you to hurt me, either!” She took a breath. “Can we just … I mean, I don’t want to be your mistress, but maybe…”
“I don’t understand.”
“I don’t, either.” She vented a lusty laugh. “I could really love you, you fool. I like being with you, watching you. I like looking into your eyes, and talking about all the things we talk about. I don’t want to lose that.”
“Listen, Bridget”—Doc set the biscuit down—“why do we have to lose anything? We can just continue on as we are. You do the books, learn to be my medical assistant. You’ve shown a natural
