One Hot Night with Dr. Cardoza

by Tina Beckett

  He dropped his hand, but continued to meet her eyes. “You want what’s best for your patients and those around you.”

  “I’m not as saintly as you make me sound.”

  “Aren’t you?” His gaze trailed down her neck. “You’re like a marble sculpture that stands in front of a church.”

  If he could read her thoughts right now, he might change his mind. Her pulse pounded in her head, mouth going dry as she stared back at him. “Sculptures aren’t real. I assure you, I am flesh and blood. Just like you.”

  “Are you?” One hand slid into her hair and cupped her nape, his thumb just behind the tender skin of her ear. But that wasn’t what made her take another step in his direction. That came from somewhere inside of her, from the part that wanted to know what it would be like to be kissed by him, to feel herself pressed against him. She could damn herself later, but for right now...

  He looked into her eyes, maybe seeing the jumble of emotions boiling just under the surface. Then his head started a slow descent, until it was just her and him. And his lips on hers.

  CHAPTER SIX

  ROQUE HAD NEVER felt anything so sweet. Or so undeniably sexy. The second his mouth touched those silky soft lips of hers, Amy’s arms wound around his neck.

  And it was heaven.

  She’d said she was no saint. But neither was he. He’d proven that time and time again when one date didn’t lead to another. But right here, right now, there was nowhere else he’d rather be.

  His tongue eased into her mouth and found a moist heat that set his body on fire. One arm circled her back, and he leaned his weight against his desk for stability. The last thing he wanted to do right now was fall. Or lose contact with her. And damn if she somehow didn’t wind up between his splayed legs and pressed against the part of him that had dreamed of this happening ever since he stepped on her dress a month ago.

  And now here he was.

  Right where he shouldn’t be, for so many reasons.

  She was a visitor at his hospital. And she was only here for three months.

  Maybe it was the latter point that kept him in place.

  Amy made a sound in her throat, her hips inching forward and back in a way she probably wasn’t even aware of. But he was. He felt every little movement. A vision of his desk and her on it came to mind. That image lingered, toying with different angles and positions.

  But before he could even think about turning them so that she was against the desk instead of him, the phone on his hip buzzed, the noise breaking into the silent struggle that was going on between them.

  Amy froze for a second. Then she jerked back, her arms releasing their hold on him.

  She kept moving until she was against the chair, and no doubt if that hadn’t been there she would have kept going until she was out the door. One of her hands grabbed the armrest and the other pressed against her mouth.

  Hell, what had he been thinking? He hadn’t been.

  When she finally spoke, she said, “I am so sorry. I don’t know what... I have no idea why...”

  He knew why. All too well. And it wasn’t her fault, it was his. “Don’t. I let things get out of hand. There’s no excuse I can give.”

  “I was a willing participant. You would have known quickly enough if I hadn’t been.”

  That made him laugh, despite the regret that was coursing through him at his behavior. “Really? What would you have done?”

  “Put you on the ground.”

  “Ah, that’s right. You know tae kwon do.”

  “I do. I have a first-degree black belt in it.”

  His eyes widened. “That shouldn’t surprise me.”

  “But it does? Well, you can thank my mom. She’s the one who insisted that I go for lessons. She wanted me to be able to defend myself.”

  “It sounds like you can.”

  Roque glanced at his watch, surprised to see it was almost five. “About dinner...”

  “Let me guess. You don’t want me to go now.”

  Something passed through her eyes. Like she was expecting him to cancel on her.

  “No, I was going to ask if you needed to go home to change first, because we’ll be cutting it close, if so.”

  What looked like relief passed through her eyes. “So you still want me to come?”

  “Is there a reason I shouldn’t?”

  She smiled. “Evidently not. You’re very good at compartmentalizing, you know that?”

  “At what?”

  “Putting everything into separate boxes in your mind.”

  He was actually. Partly the result of his accident and what had happened with Halee, and partly because of his job. “This is one thing I will not hide away in a box. That way I can make sure it won’t happen again.”

  “I can help with that. Remember that whole ‘on the ground’ thing?” She let go of the arm of the chair as if having regained her composure.

  His smile widened, relieved that she wasn’t going to blow this all out of proportion.

  “You would use some of your moves on me?” And just like that, Roque was back in a different frame of mind, going over that kiss blow by blow.

  “You don’t want to find out.”

  The problem was... He did. But if he was going to get through this dinner intact, he was going to have to keep his head. Because his mother was very, very shrewd. And the last thing he needed was for her to guess what he and Amy had been doing in this office.

  Otherwise she’d be on the phone with her priest and reserving the church.

  That wasn’t going to happen.

  If he could just remember that Amy was here for just a few months and that she had her heart set on earning her doctorate in the States, he would be fine.

  He didn’t want another relationship. And the last thing he wanted was to keep anyone from their dreams.

  * * *

  Claudia and Andre Cardoza welcomed her into the cookout area of their little getaway house with the same warmth his mom had displayed at the hospital.

  “Thank you so much for inviting me.”

  They’d opted to host the meal outside of the crush of São Paulo, instead of at the family home. Roque said it was because his dad—a police officer—liked to get away from town on the weekends, whenever he could.

  “We are glad Roque brought you.” Andre was the spitting image of his son, although his dark hair was peppered with gray. With a skewer loaded with some type of meat in one hand and a brick grill behind him, he looked totally in his element.

  Unlike Roque, who seemed ill at ease. Well, that made two of them. She’d actually been surprised that he wanted her to come, and maybe it would have been easier if they’d canceled their plans, but Amy had truly liked Claudia and would have hated for her to go to the trouble of fixing her a meal only to have her not show up.

  His mom brought her a bottle of water. “Please help yourself to anything. Dinner won’t be long. Roque, why don’t you show her around.”

  “Okay.”

  He grabbed a water for himself and motioned her to follow him. The walled-in compound was alive with flowers and greenery, and there were several hammocks scattered throughout the space. A clay-tiled building was to the left, and must be where they slept when they weren’t outside. It was kind of like a cabin they might have back home in Florida. Without the sand.

  “What’s the Portuguese word for this kind of place again?”

  “It’s a chácara. Kind of like a country home. Only not.”

  He could say that again. When she thought of a country home, she thought of a white stucco home with a wraparound porch. This was more like a campground. One they had all to themselves. It was charming, and under other circumstances she might have found it heavenly.

  Except she was hyperaware of every move Roque made. Of his broad shoulders and narrow wais
t and the way he had felt against her.

  He’d been attracted to her, that much was obvious. She’d felt the very real evidence of that.

  And despite her talk about compartmentalizing, it was not going to be easy to lock that particular memory into a box and keep it there.

  But somehow she was going to have to do just that.

  A fling? With Roque?

  Just hours earlier, she’d entertained that exact thought. Until she realized just how deadly his kiss was to her senses.

  “How long have your parents owned this?”

  “Actually, this was passed down to them by my grandparents, who built it many years ago.”

  A pond nestled against one corner of the property, the greenery behind it camouflaging the protective wall that kept intruders out. “Does it have electricity?”

  “It does now. It didn’t originally.” He grinned. “They also added plumbing a few years ago.”

  “I bet that makes life a lot more comfortable.”

  He motioned to one of the chairs that flanked the body of water. “When I was a kid, I didn’t seem to think about what this place lacked. I just liked being with family.”

  Since the only family Amy had had around had been her mom and dad—her grandparents had passed away before she was born—it was a little hard to imagine family get-togethers that involved more than just the three of them. She sank into one of the wrought-iron chairs with a sigh. “It’s beautiful. Serene.”

  And suddenly she was glad she’d come. This place might be the perfect bridge to transport her from her heightened emotional state to a place that was more tranquil. At least she could hope. The pond boasted a small rock waterfall that had to be powered by a pump, although she couldn’t see it.

  “Yes. My father’s job is very difficult. This helps him put things into perspective. To realize that life is more than fighting drug lords in favelas.”

  Some of the slums of Brazil were known for being controlled by different gangs, going as far as limiting who entered and left the community. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be.”

  “I grew up knowing that my father could go to work one day and never make it home. I think that’s why the Chácara do Cardoza is so important to him. He’s had offers on the property, but he always turns them down.”

  “You’ll inherit this someday, then.”

  “I imagine.”

  There was something in his voice. “You don’t want it?”

  “At one time, I would have said no. But that was a long time ago.” He stretched his leg in front of him, propping his cane against his thigh.

  “Is it bothering you?”

  “No.”

  The answer was curt, like it was whenever she asked about his leg. He didn’t like talking about it. She could understand that. No one liked to admit to having a weakness.

  “Sorry.”

  He tipped his head back so that it leaned against the high back of the chair, then turned to look at her. “It is I who am sorry. My leg is tired from the day, but it will be fine tomorrow.”

  For their trip to the beach. They would have a lot of walking, from what he’d said. But it would be better for his muscles than standing in one spot doing surgeries like he probably did day in and day out. She’d been tempted to back out of their trip, but she also didn’t want Roque to know how much that kiss had affected her.

  “What should I bring?”

  “To the beach?” He paused. “Probably the same things you would take in Florida. Sunscreen, maybe a hat. Shoes that are easy to walk in and remove sand from.”

  “Okay. Do you want me to meet you somewhere?”

  “I think it would be better if I picked you up in front of the Fonte Cristalina. Say at nine o’clock in the morning?”

  It was already past eight, but Amy was in no hurry to get back to her apartment. Maybe because she knew that once that happened, she was going to dissect every single second of her time in his office and figure out how what had started out as a completely professional conversation had gone so totally off the rails.

  “That sounds like a plan.”

  A half hour later, Amy was sitting outside at a large farmhouse-style table laughing at stories that Andre shared about some of his most embarrassing moments as a police officer. She was pretty sure he’d also experienced some awful moments as well. A couple of times Claudia had reached across and squeezed her hand, smiling at her and asking if Amy wanted this or that and encouraging her to eat another bite of the delicious grilled meat that was so common in Brazil.

  “I’m very...satisfeita.” One of her mother’s favorite words surfaced without warning, and she swallowed hard, hoping no one realized she was choked with grief—a grief she thought she’d worked through.

  Roque peered at her through the growing shadows. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Just enjoying the evening.”

  And she was, much to her surprise. A little too much, maybe. That’s probably where that little burst of emotion had come from. Thinking about how her mom would have loved sharing this moment with her.

  But they’d had plenty of other happy times. And she treasured each of them.

  Roque glanced at his watch. “Well, I know you and Dad are spending the night here, but I need to get Amy back to her apartment. It’s been a long day.”

  Claudia stood up and came around and kissed her son on the cheek and then turned to Amy and hugged her tight. “Venha de novo, ta?”

  “I will. Thank you so much.” As much as she appreciated Claudia’s encouragement to return to visit, she very much doubted she would ever see Roque’s parents again.

  Hopefully her smile hid any sadness she might feel over that fact. But the reality was, these three months would soon be little more than a tiny moment in time. So she committed as much of this place and their faces as she could to memory.

  And maybe one day she would be able to draw those memories back up and remember them with a smile that was a little more genuine than the one currently plastered to her face.

  At least she hoped so.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  WHY ON EARTH had she told him to meet her in front of her apartment complex? Or agreed to come with him at all? Was she crazy? She was already affected by him in ways she didn’t want to think about, and now she was going to spend the day with him. Alone.

  She’d gotten outside ten minutes early so he wouldn’t have to wait, and in that short period of time several people had come out, commenting on her hat and the straw bag containing her sunscreen. She’d been able to repeat that she was going to the beach. One woman had asked if she wanted company! Which had gotten super awkward when she said she’d been invited by the doctor she was working with.

  But it might have been more awkward if there were suddenly five people cramming into Roque’s car.

  Finally he arrived, and she jumped in and slammed her door, giving him the biggest brightest smile she could manage, hoping that he wouldn’t guess how nervous she was. “Ready? Let’s go.”

  He glanced at her with a frown. “What’s the big rush?”

  “Well, the explanations have been a little difficult.”

  “Why?”

  The single word summed it up brilliantly. Why was it a problem? She was the one who was fumbling around and making it a bigger deal than it was. Somehow dinner with Roque’s parents had been easier than this beach outing was proving to be, and she wasn’t sure why. Maybe it was that whole thing of him wanting to speak Portuguese when they were alone. So far, she was not following that course, since the words pouring from her mouth were all in English.

  “I don’t know. I think it just feels...” She couldn’t come up with the right word to save her life.

  “After yesterday, do you mean?”

  “Yes.” As usual, he’d hit the nail on the head. If she could somehow
stop overanalyzing every aspect of what had happened in his office, maybe she could put it all behind her.

  “No one knows about that except us. So our outing will only appear strange to others, if we make it that way.”

  Which is exactly what she’d done. Maybe because she couldn’t just hide her feelings the way others might. Even Roque kept his emotions tucked well out of sight. Except for yesterday.

  But had that been due to an overflow of feelings? Or simply because they were a man and woman who were attracted to each other physically?

  “You’re right, of course. There’s no reason to feel guilty. I’m just one of those people who ends up getting caught red-handed if I do something wrong.”

  “Well, our hands are not red, because no one saw us.”

  Amy laughed. “That’s one way of putting it.” She loved the way he used expressions with confidence even if he didn’t quite understand the meaning.

  With that he started the car and pulled away from the curb. “Are you looking forward to seeing Guarujá? If you brought a towel, we can sit on the beach for a while.”

  “Sounds great. Have you ever been to Caraguatatuba? Apparently there’s a great surfing beach there? Do you know it?”

  “Massaguaçu. The surf is not always consistent, but it can get busy at peak times of the year. If you decide to go surfing there, take a buddy.”

  It’s not like she’d be in Brazil long enough to do that or had anyone to do it with. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

  His fingers tightened on the wheel, and he turned to look at her. “Seriously. The riptides can be deadly.”

  “I won’t go alone. I promise.”

  “Good.”

  An hour and a half later, they were in Guarujá, and Amy couldn’t hold back a gasp. It was almost intimidating, with row after row of pristine condominiums. Nothing like the Chácara do Cardoza from last night.