Coming Home To Wed. Renee Roszel

she wasn’t stupid enough to cut off her nose to spite her face. “I could eat,” she admitted.

      “Can you cook?” He slid off the stool to stand beside her chair.

      “Of course.” His towering nearness unsettled her, so she pushed up from the little kitchen table. What difference does it make if he validates you, Mimi? she counseled inwardly. You’re completely capable, and what he thinks isn’t important! “I can cook over hot volcanic ash if I have to.”

      He had shrugged out of his white coat and was hanging it on a hook beside the door when her comment made him glance at her over his shoulder. His brows knit slightly, and she had a feeling he didn’t believe her. “That won’t be necessary. I have a stove.”

      She decided this staid, provincial MD needed a little loosening up. “Too bad,” she kidded. “Where’s the adventure in cooking on a stove?”

      He lounged against the counter, resting the heels of his hands on the pine surface. His slouch was so utterly natural and sexy the sight was disconcerting. She decided there were movie-star hunks who stood in front of mirrors for hours, practicing but failing to look so cavalierly male. Belatedly, she realized his expression held a trace of disapproval. “So life to you is just one big adventure, is it?”

      The way he said it sent a ripple of irritation along her spine. “Life is an adventure, doc. You have to make the most of the time you have.” The muscle in his cheek flexed again. He was clenching. “Do you have a problem with that?”

      “Not at all,” he said. “As long as you don’t run out on me before your three weeks are up.”

      She lifted her chin. His assumption that she was some kind of two-faced weasel who wouldn’t keep her promise infuriated her. “If I say I’ll stay, I’ll stay.”

      “Then I have your word?” he asked, not missing a beat.

      She stared at him, doing a little teeth-grinding of her own. “Can I trust you to repair the cat and give me the airfare you agreed to?”

      His gaze narrowed, and Mimi could tell the good doctor wasn’t accustomed to having his word challenged. “Touché, Miss Baptiste,” he said, gravely.

      “So we’re agreed,” she retorted. “You do your part, and I’ll stay three weeks. But not a day longer.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      MIMI and the doctor shared a long, explicit glare.

      Mixed somewhere in her anger and frustration she felt a tingle of satisfaction. It didn’t take a psychic to see that Doctor Charm was as annoyed about this arrangement as she.

      A knocking sound brought an end to their staring contest. “Excuse me,” he muttered, striding out of the kitchen toward the cottage’s front door. Mimi was curious to see who might need a doctor at this hour, so she ambled through the kitchen and into the dining area. Leaning against the round table, she watched the doctor stalk toward the front entrance.

      The only hint that the living room before her doubled as a waiting area was a wooden desk that sat beside the front door. Behind it a couple of tall wood filing cabinets stood against the side wall. Otherwise, the place looked like any other seaside cottage’s living room.

      When Marc swung the door wide, a white ball of fluff bounded inside, barking and wagging its stubby tail so hard it looked like it might split into two little puffs. Right behind the tiny creature came an attractive woman with shoulder-length auburn hair and a riot of freckles dancing across her pretty face.

      “Hi,” she said, giving the doctor a hug. “I saw your lights and figured you’d want Foo Foo back.”

      Marc returned the hug and kissed the newcomer’s forehead. “The fog must be lifting.”

      “The wind’s picked up…” Her sentence trailed away when she noticed Mimi. “Oh—I didn’t realize you had a patient.”

      At the same moment, the white fluff-ball noticed Mimi and ran to her as though she was its long-lost mama. Leaping and barking and wagging, it greeted her with considerably more enthusiasm than Mimi felt.

      “Hush, Foof!” the woman called. “You’re not supposed to bother the patients.”

      “She’s not a patient, Susan.” Marc clasped the woman about the shoulders and guided her into the room. “She’s my temporary assistant. I found her tonight.” He indicated Mimi with a gesture. “Susan Merit, Miss…Baptiste.”

      Mimi felt a twinge at the obvious fact that he couldn’t recall her first name. It was odd, though, that the twinge had begun some time before he’d spoken her name. Surely the fact that he had a wife didn’t bother her. She didn’t even like the aggravating sourpuss.

      When she realized Marc and Susan had neared, she belatedly held out a hand. “It’s Mimi. Mimi Baptiste. Nice to meet you.”

      Susan took her hand and squeezed, then glanced askance at Marc. “I know it’s hard to find help, sweetie, but bashing women over the head is just a little illegal.”

      He grinned at Susan, and Mimi was struck by the sight. His smile transformed his features, making his good looks devastating. She swallowed hard. Maybe it was lucky the doctor was basically a grouch. Maybe he’d learned the hard way that he had to be a grouch, at least with female patients. Mimi decided his smiles were almost too stimulating to cope with, even fully clothed. What sort of chaos might one of those rakish grins cause if flashed during a physical exam?

      “Very funny, Susan.” He squeezed the woman’s shoulder affectionately before dropping his arm to his side.

      The dog jumped up on Mimi, yapping, clearly begging to be picked up. Tiny and pure white, the animal was probably a poodle but without the traditional cut.

      “Down, Foof,” Marc commanded. “Time for dinner.” The ball of fuzz dropped its forepaws to the floor, danced around in a circle, then dashed into the kitchen.

      Marc turned to the auburn-haired woman. “How’s Kyle?”

      Susan smiled, a bright blush spreading across her cheeks. “He’s the sweetest little boy on earth.” She reached up and touched Marc’s cheek. “Thank you for that darling baby.” She cleared her throat, as though fighting emotion. Her smile trembled, then brightened and became teasing. “Come on up and see us, sometime.”

      He winked. “It’s a date.”

      Susan turned to Mimi. “Don’t let this ogre work you too hard. And don’t let him forget to eat, okay?” She wrapped her arms about his waist and gave him a displeased look. “You’re too thin.”

      Marc’s laughter was rich, filling the room with an unexpected warmth. “Will the nagging never end?”

      She pecked his cheek. “Okay, okay, I’m going. Foo Foo was a delight as usual, but I’m afraid once Kyle is old enough to toddle around, he’s going to steal that dog away from you. She’s pretty fond of him already. Thinks he’s her baby.”

      “If Kyle takes Foof away, you have to grant me visitation rights,” he kidded.

      “Ha!” Susan countered. “Like you’d take time to visit.” She disengaged herself from Marc. When she met Mimi’s gaze again, her smile dimmed. “If Marc didn’t bash you, then how did you hurt your head?”

      Mimi felt peculiarly impish. “Oh, but he did!” She shot him a taunting look. “It was a clear case of piracy on the high seas. First he rammed me to disable my boat, then he kidnapped me. It was horrible.”

      Marc’s smile became a trifle jaundiced. “Two funny women in the same room. I’m blessed.”

      Susan gave him a look. “In all the time I’ve known you, Marc, I’ve never suspected you had this buccaneering streak.”

      “Well, I’ve witnessed his dark side,” Mimi