Read Online Millionaire M.D. by Jennifer Greene - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jennifer Greene
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coffeeâbecause something had dropped her off in Oz for a few hours, for darn sure.
Angel let out a sleepy burp, making Winona smile. Still, she kept on pacing and patting, pacing and patting. Really, her brief sojourn into Oz was downright funny. Sheâd actually imagined Justin seriously asking her to marry him. Not joking this time. But low-down serious.
Boy, was that funny.
So funny that even after the baby fell asleep big timeâfor the night, she hopedâWinona still couldnât think, couldnât breathe, couldnât sleep. She was as tired as a worn-out hound, yet still pacing the floors in the dark.
Heâd asked if there was a man in her life. And simply couldnât seem to credit her avowal that there wasnât.
At midnight, she prowled to the refrigerator for somemilkâpoured out a half a cup, all she had in the houseâand carted it back to her bedroom. She climbed in between the cobalt-blue sheets and mounded the pillows behind her head, sipping, staring out the windows at a loverâs moon and a sky full of stars.
Thereâd been men. But not in a while. Once sheâd realized that sheâd been the one screwing up the relationships, sheâd backed off from trying. She wasnât any good at getting closeânot in the sack or out of it. Sex wasnât the only problem, but it was a nuisance of a big one. She had no objections to intimacy, getting naked, big inhibitions, nothing like that.
Sheâd just figured, a long time back, that her sweat with intimacy was about abandonment. Being abandoned once in a lifetime was enough. If you had your soul ripped out once, most sane people didnât volunteer for a repeat experience. But when that translated into a relationshipâ¦well. She could lie there beneath a guy. Smile. Make the right movements. Make the right groans.
In fact, she had.
Frankly, she thought she was pretty goodâif not downright outstandingâat faking it. But there didnât seem much point. She wasnât that unhappy alone. She liked her job, her life. She had friends, respect in the community. She liked feeling contained. Safe. So maybe she had a hard time trusting others at a gut level. So what?
But she hadnât liked that kiss from Justin. Her lips still felt bee-stung, her nerves sharp-stung even more. She didnât let go like that. Ever. She never went loopy, dizzy, spinning high with any manâand certainly not for a few ridiculous idiot kisses.
What the Sam Hill did Justin think he was doing? Kissing her? Offering to marry her?
Something was wrong with him, she concluded. Bad wrong. Seriously wrong. The idea soothed her. She set down the empty milk cup and curled up under the covers, immediately starting to relax. She simply should have thought thisthrough earlier. If Justin was acting bananas, there had to be a reason for it. Whatever it was, sheâd talk to him. Help him. Like the friends they were.
And sheâd reassure him, of course, that she realized heâd never meant that offer of marriage.
Â
Two mornings later, as Justin drove to the site of the Asterland plane crash landing, his mind was on Winona, not business. Weddings, not plane crashes. Love, not problems. But the closer he got to the scene of the accident, the faster his mood turned grave.
As of hours after the crash landing, the sheriff had set up a roadblock, both to protect the evidence and to discourage strangers and gawkers. The cop immediately recognized Justinâs black Porsche, though, and waved him on.
The road ran out within yards, and turned into a desertlike hard pan surface. After spring rains, possibly the land was more forgiving, even decent grazing ground, but right now it definitely wasnât the most hospitable spot in Texas. Most vehicles could undoubtedly traverse the hard surface, but with his baby, Justin had to slow to a crawl. Finally, the plane loomed in sight. And when Justin finally stopped the
Angel let out a sleepy burp, making Winona smile. Still, she kept on pacing and patting, pacing and patting. Really, her brief sojourn into Oz was downright funny. Sheâd actually imagined Justin seriously asking her to marry him. Not joking this time. But low-down serious.
Boy, was that funny.
So funny that even after the baby fell asleep big timeâfor the night, she hopedâWinona still couldnât think, couldnât breathe, couldnât sleep. She was as tired as a worn-out hound, yet still pacing the floors in the dark.
Heâd asked if there was a man in her life. And simply couldnât seem to credit her avowal that there wasnât.
At midnight, she prowled to the refrigerator for somemilkâpoured out a half a cup, all she had in the houseâand carted it back to her bedroom. She climbed in between the cobalt-blue sheets and mounded the pillows behind her head, sipping, staring out the windows at a loverâs moon and a sky full of stars.
Thereâd been men. But not in a while. Once sheâd realized that sheâd been the one screwing up the relationships, sheâd backed off from trying. She wasnât any good at getting closeânot in the sack or out of it. Sex wasnât the only problem, but it was a nuisance of a big one. She had no objections to intimacy, getting naked, big inhibitions, nothing like that.
Sheâd just figured, a long time back, that her sweat with intimacy was about abandonment. Being abandoned once in a lifetime was enough. If you had your soul ripped out once, most sane people didnât volunteer for a repeat experience. But when that translated into a relationshipâ¦well. She could lie there beneath a guy. Smile. Make the right movements. Make the right groans.
In fact, she had.
Frankly, she thought she was pretty goodâif not downright outstandingâat faking it. But there didnât seem much point. She wasnât that unhappy alone. She liked her job, her life. She had friends, respect in the community. She liked feeling contained. Safe. So maybe she had a hard time trusting others at a gut level. So what?
But she hadnât liked that kiss from Justin. Her lips still felt bee-stung, her nerves sharp-stung even more. She didnât let go like that. Ever. She never went loopy, dizzy, spinning high with any manâand certainly not for a few ridiculous idiot kisses.
What the Sam Hill did Justin think he was doing? Kissing her? Offering to marry her?
Something was wrong with him, she concluded. Bad wrong. Seriously wrong. The idea soothed her. She set down the empty milk cup and curled up under the covers, immediately starting to relax. She simply should have thought thisthrough earlier. If Justin was acting bananas, there had to be a reason for it. Whatever it was, sheâd talk to him. Help him. Like the friends they were.
And sheâd reassure him, of course, that she realized heâd never meant that offer of marriage.
Â
Two mornings later, as Justin drove to the site of the Asterland plane crash landing, his mind was on Winona, not business. Weddings, not plane crashes. Love, not problems. But the closer he got to the scene of the accident, the faster his mood turned grave.
As of hours after the crash landing, the sheriff had set up a roadblock, both to protect the evidence and to discourage strangers and gawkers. The cop immediately recognized Justinâs black Porsche, though, and waved him on.
The road ran out within yards, and turned into a desertlike hard pan surface. After spring rains, possibly the land was more forgiving, even decent grazing ground, but right now it definitely wasnât the most hospitable spot in Texas. Most vehicles could undoubtedly traverse the hard surface, but with his baby, Justin had to slow to a crawl. Finally, the plane loomed in sight. And when Justin finally stopped the
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