by Lucy Ryder
Then his eyes crinkled in a private, evocative smile meant to remind her of hot, wet mouths and frantic, greedy hands. Her heart lurched in her chest before taking off like a crazed meth head fleeing from the cops.
Shocked and a little spooked by her reaction, she turned and hurried towards the hallway leading to her office, her palm hitting the door as though she couldn’t escape fast enough. In reality she wanted to run for the exit and keep going until the feelings faded. But she had an awful feeling she couldn’t run too far or too fast. Everything that had happened with Sam was burned indelibly into her mind—heck, her soul—and running would accomplish nothing.
Besides, she wasn’t the kind of woman who got swept away by a couple of nights with a sexy Navy SEAL.
Was she?
Hyperventilating and angry with herself for making more of things than they were, Cassidy stormed into her office and yanked off her jacket. She flung it at the coat rack and tossed her purse into her bottom drawer with shaking hands, then gave the drawer a frustrated little kick.
What the hell was that?
“What the hell was that?”
Cassidy froze when the low, furious demand filled the room. A frisson of alarm skated up her spine as memories roared in of the last time she’d been cornered in an office by an angry man. Drawing in a steadying breath, she gathered her professionalism around her like an invisible cloak and turned to find him looking hot and annoyed and more than a little baffled.
Sam wasn’t Lance, she reminded herself. And he wasn’t a desperate, drug-crazed psycho.
“Excuse me?” she asked coolly, hoping he’d take the hint and back the hell off. With her emotions frayed and ragged, she wasn’t up to a confrontation without exposing emotions scraped raw from panic.
Sam folded his arms across his chest, his dark brows a slash of irritation across the bridge of his nose. “You heard me.”
Cassidy lifted her chin in challenge. “What was what?” She had the satisfaction of seeing a muscle twitch in his jaw. Good, she thought uncharitably, I’m not the only unhinged person here.
“That,” he snapped, pointing at her. “In here. Out there. It’s like you’re two different people. It’s confusing as hell. I never know where I am with you.”
All thoughts of poise and cool professionalism forgotten, Cassidy stared back at him frostily and ignored the way her stomach clenched. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Jeez, Cassidy,” he said roughly, his face harsh with some fierce emotion he seemed to be struggling with. “One minute you’re all warm and sweet and sexy and the next…hell, you looked at me like I’m the Greenside rapist.”
Wincing inwardly, Cassidy turned away, hunching her shoulders against the truth. She smoothed unsteady hands down her thighs. “You’re imagining things. I was just a little surprised to see you, that’s all. I’m—” She stopped abruptly when she turned to find him a couple inches away. Her eyes widened and she uttered an audible gasp. Yikes. The man moved like smoke.
She gulped and backed up a step. He was so close, so…familiar.
“That’s bull.”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You heard me,” he growled, his deep voice scraping against ragged nerve endings. “I’m not some muscle-bound redneck you can intimidate with the frosty debutante routine.”
Staring into eyes fierce with a confusing mix of emotions, Cassidy swallowed past the lump in her throat and sighed. “It’s…complicated.” She shrugged helplessly. “Just old, not-so-pleasant memories. Ancient history. Really.”
After a long moment he lifted a hand and brushed his knuckles across her jaw. Surprise at the gentle touch added to her ragged emotions. Emotions she didn’t want or need. Emotions that made her feel fragile and susceptible and long for something she couldn’t have.
“Wanna talk about it?”
A strangled laugh escaped and she finally found the strength to move away from the temptation to lean on him, draw in some of his strength and heat.
“God, no. It’s nothing, really.” She drew in a fortifying breath and turned, eager to change the subject. “So, what are you doing here?”
His gaze narrowed, probed. “I told you last night.”
“You did?” Now it was Cassidy’s turn to be confused.
“Yeah. I told you Monty had an accident and the mayor asked me to fill in until they can get someone else—or I’m recalled.” He gave a one-shouldered shrug. “Whichever comes first.”
Cassidy frowned as though trying to recall what he’d said last night. “You told me about the accident.” She remembered him talking about body bags and dying and then— “You never said anything about filling in as medic,” she added quickly, memories of what had followed flooding her with heat. Yeesh. So not the time to be thinking about that. “I would have remembered.”
Sam eyed her flushed face silently for a few beats then his mouth slowly curved into a smartass grin that she wanted to simultaneously smack and kiss. “You thought I was here to take up where we left off last night, didn’t you?”
She flushed. “Of course not,” she denied instantly, smoothing her already smooth French twist with shaking hands. “That’s…that’s insane,” she finished lamely, trying to hide her shock at discovering they would be working closely together. Oh, boy.
“You did.” His grin faded into a harsh frown and his mouth twisted. She could feel him withdrawing. “I think I get it now. Negative reaction, ancient history. I reminded you of some scumbag stalker, didn’t I?” Without waiting for a response, he swore and shoved his fingers through his hair. “What the hell kind of man do you take me for?”
“Th-that’s ridiculous,” she spluttered and turned to reach for the clean lab coat hanging on the back of her chair to give her hands something to do. “Why would I th-think that?” Large, warm hands dropped onto her shoulders and she tensed, abruptly sucking in a shaky breath.
“Hey.” His voice, deep and rough, slid inside her chest and aimed for her heart. “Is that what you think?” he demanded hoarsely. “That I would…hell…could hurt you?”
Cassidy looked up over her shoulder into his face and couldn’t deny the sincerity behind the baffled hurt and anger. Sighing, she made herself relax and ignored the temptation to lean back against him, let him wrap his arms around her. Like he had during the night. But she couldn’t. He might say he wouldn’t hurt her, but he would. Not intentionally or physically. She didn’t think he was capable of that. But he most definitely would hurt her. And soon.
“No, I don’t,” she denied, easing out from beneath his hands and moving a safe distance away. Not really. “A year ago I made the mistake of trusting…well, someone I shouldn’t have.”
She felt him come up behind her. “What happened?”
Cassidy sighed, admitting to herself that he deserved to know why she behaved like she had a multiple personality. “Lance is…was a vice cop. Charming, handsome…” Her mouth twisted wryly. “A hero. He…um…he was brought into ER after a drug bust went wrong.”
“I sense that’s not the only thing that went wrong.”
Cassidy flushed with embarrassment, hating that she’d been so naïve. “He came to thank me for saving his life. An exaggeration, but he was sweet and…well—”
“Charming?” Sam demanded darkly, and when she remained silent he cursed softly. “And you fell for it.”
Cassidy gritted her teeth. “I guess you could say that.”
“But?”
“He had a habit of seducing women in the medical profession.”
“Let me guess. He liked all the attention?” He sounded disgusted.
Cassidy shrugged. “That too.”
“There’s more?”
“He stole my security card and helped himself to the dispensary.”
“Holy cr—! He stole drugs?”
“For which I was blamed. The cops were called in. Fortunately for me he was already under investigation and my testimony…well, suffic
e it to say he’s no longer a cop.”
“Good for you. I hope the bastard rots in jail.” He was silent a moment. “You were exonerated?”
“Yes, but…”
“Again but?”
“Things got…well, difficult after that.”
“They fired you?” He sounded outraged.
She shook her head. “No. But sometimes I think it might have been better if they had. There was a lot of gossip and jokes. Cruel jokes.” She shrugged. “You know what it’s like in hospitals. So…I eventually resigned and moved here.” Cassidy abruptly became all business. “As I said, Major, ancient history.”
A dark brow hiked up his forehead at her cool tone and his eyes darkened. “Are we back to that, Doctor?”
Cassidy sighed. “Look, last night was a—”
“Don’t say it,” he interrupted her shortly, taking a couple of long strides in her direction. Her eyes widened and she quickly moved to put the desk between them. He halted, shoving his hands on his narrow hips as he studied her, brows lowered in visible frustration.
“It was a mistake,” she insisted, resisting the urge to roll her eyes since “mistake” was a major understatement. At least for her it was. It meant she could no longer blame her behavior on adrenaline. But he would still leave, and if she let her feelings develop, what then?
Sam was silent for so long she began to rearrange her desk to give her hands something to do. Just when she thought he’d finally taken the hint and left, a large hand covered hers.
She froze, staring down at the sight of her pale, slender hand engulfed in his. His hand was huge, tanned and broad with long skilled fingers that were capable of killing a man, bringing a baby back from the brink of death—and driving a woman out of her mind with pleasure.
The strength of it should have scared her but for some strange reason it just felt…right. He felt right. As though her hand had been fashioned to fit perfectly into his.
But that was a dangerous illusion and one she needed to get out of her head. He wasn’t perfect, she reminded herself firmly. He was fighting demons as hard as he fought for his country. The combination wasn’t healthy. For either of them.
“Why?” he demanded softly. “You didn’t have a good time?”
Making a sound in her throat that was a cross between a laugh and groan, Cassidy stopped trying to escape and looked up over her shoulder into his fallen-angel face. She would like to say no, but she couldn’t lie to him, not any more. So she said instead, “I refuse to answer that on the grounds that it may incriminate me.”
Sam used his grasp on her hand to whip her around and tug her against him. “Then what’s the problem?” His free arm snaked around her waist and his lips brushed her temple.
Cassidy pressed her palms against the hard heat of his chest and fought the urge to slide them up to cup his firm jaw, tunnel into his thick dark hair. “You. Me… Hell, I don’t know. I just know it can’t happen again.”
His arms tightened as though he would pull her into him. “Why not?” He sounded baffled and frustrated. “You had a good time and I sure as hell did.”
Cassidy sighed and pressed her face wearily into his throat, tempted to close her eyes and burrow deep. Until she absorbed his heat, his strength. Or he absorbed all of her.
“Lots of reasons,” she murmured, drinking in his clean masculine smell. “One of which is that we’re now working together. I don’t sleep with colleagues.”
“Glad to hear it,” he drawled, smoothing a hand down her back to her hip to press her closer. “I would have really hated punching Monty’s lights out.”
Cassidy grimaced and pushed away from him, feeling off balance like she’d entered an episode of some adventure game show dressed in a designer suit and four-inch heels. “That’s disgusting.”
“Besides, neither of us is married.” He paused as though a horrible thought just occurred to him. “Are you?”
Cassidy gaped at him. “No!”
He shrugged but looked ridiculously relieved. “Then what’s wrong with enjoying each other?”
“While you’re here, you mean?”
He frowned and leaned back so he could look into her face. “Is that a problem?”
Sighing, Cassidy told herself she wasn’t disappointed. She’d known from the beginning she was nothing more than a temporary distraction.
“I’m not built for temporary, Sam, and everything about you says your bags are packed and all you need is one phone call.”
His hands dropped and she could see the truth in his eyes. Her heart squeezed, though she didn’t know what she’d expected him to say. Deny it maybe?
Fortunately a voice from the doorway stopped her from humiliating herself further.
“Cassidy, Mrs. West is… Oh.” Janice paused as if she sensed the tension in the room. “I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes wide and curious. “I didn’t realize you were busy.”
“We’re not,” Cassidy said briskly, reaching out to snag the stethoscope she’d tossed onto the desk the previous night. “I was just on my way. Is Mrs. West in exam room one?”
“Yes, Doctor,” the nurse said, wide eyes bouncing between Cassidy and Sam. “Hank Dougherty is waiting in two.”
“Thank you, Janice,” Cassidy said, looping the stethoscope around her neck. “I’ll be right there. In the meantime, can you please hunt up a lab coat for Major Kellan and inform the staff that he’s filling in for Dr. Montgomery?”
Janice beamed at Sam, and Cassidy could practically hear the woman’s heart go pitter-pat. “I heard.” Janice grinned excitedly. “Welcome aboard,” she gushed.
And giggled when his “Thanks” was accompanied by a crooked grin.
Taking that as her cue, Cassidy headed for the door, desperate to escape before he remembered what they’d been discussing. His voice, dark as midnight and rough as crushed velvet, reached across the room and stopped her in her tracks. “I’m not him, Cassidy,” he called softly, and her fingers tightened on the doorframe. She chanced a look across her shoulder.
“Not who?” she asked past the lump of yearning in her throat. A yearning she didn’t want to analyze too closely.
“I’m not what’s-his-name? Lance Full-of-bull.”
“Today is senior citizen clinic day,” she said briskly instead of replying to what was largely rhetorical anyway. “Hank Dougherty needs hip replacement surgery but he needs to get his smoking under control first. Don’t let the old codger con you into thinking he’s quit.”
*
Removing the stethoscope from her ears, Cassidy smiled reassuringly at the anxious young mother hovering close. “Chest is all clear,” she announced, “but this little butterball has a bad fever and her ears are inflamed.”
She reached for a tongue depressor. “Open your mouth wide, sweetie,” she cajoled gently, “I want to check if the bad germs got into your throat.”
The child gazed back with huge, tragic eyes and held out the stuffed toy she was clutching. “Elmo first,” she rasped, looking on intently as Cassidy examined Elmo’s throat and made some doctor noises. “Do you think you and Elmo have the same bad germs?” Cassidy asked, holding out a new depressor. The little girl nodded and obediently opened her mouth.
“Uh-oh,” she said, with an exaggerated look of dismay. “Just as I thought. Have you two been sharing a toothbrush again?” Jenny giggled around the thumb she’d instantly shoved in her mouth and shook her head. “That’s good because Elmo needs his own toothbrush.” She tapped a little button nose and lifted the child into her arms. “And you need to suck on something other than that thumb. How about a magic lollipop?”
“Magic?” Jenny rasped shyly around her thumb.
“Uh-huh. One that’ll chase away all those bad germs,” Cassidy explained, reaching into a nearby cabinet. “And make your throat feel better.” She held out two antibacterial lollipops. “There,” she said, handing the little girl to her mother. “One for you and one for Elmo.” Returning to her desk, she slid
a handful of M&Ms into a small clear plastic bag and wrote “Elmo” in permanent marker on the front.
“This is for Elmo but your mommy’s going to have to get your medication from the pharmacy,” she explained to the wide-eyed child. “Elmo is pretty bad at taking his medicine. I want you to be a big girl and show him how it’s done. Can you do that for me?”
Jenny nodded solemnly as her mother smiled at Cassidy. “Thank you so much, Dr. Mahoney. You’re really good with children,” she said. “Are you a pediatrician?”
Cassidy shook her head. “I specialized in ER medicine. And it’s Cassidy.”
“Thank you, Cassidy. And welcome to Crescent Lake.”
Smiling, Cassidy sent the child a little wave over her mother’s shoulder as the two left her office, and had only a couple of minutes to gulp down rapidly cooling coffee before her next appointment arrived.
A clearly harassed Cathy Howard entered with a rowdy, tow-headed toddler and sank wearily into the nearest chair. Little Timmy Howard had been one of her first patients.
“Did I ever say I wanted him bouncing around again?” Cathy asked Cassidy with a grimace. “I would give anything for just one minute of peace.”
Cassidy rounded her desk and looked into Timmy’s big blue eyes, catching the wicked sparkle that would one day drive girls wild. Grinning, she swooped on him before he could escape, and plopped him down on the bed.
She laughed as he tried to wriggle free. “Come here, you little monkey. I want to listen to the engine inside your chest and see if all your spots have gone.”
Timmy gurgled and pulled up his shirt, exposing his little pot belly. “See,” he said, tucking his chin onto his chest and peering down at his tummy. “Gone.”
“Are you sure?” Cassidy sounded dubious. “I think I see one here.” She tickled him, making him squirm and chortle. “And here?” The noisy raspberry she blew on his tummy made him squeal and try to squirm away, but she held him firmly. “What about here?” He gave a great big belly laugh and caught her face in his hands before planting a big wet kiss on her nose.
Cassidy laughed and brushed white-blond curls off his face. “I bet you do that to all the girls,” she teased, lifting him onto his sturdy little legs. He wrapped his chubby arms around her neck and bounced happily while she listened to his chest. Satisfied that he had no after-effects of the virus, she lifted him into her arms.
