by Lucy Ryder
“I don’t know. Are you going to leave me on the sidewalk if I say no?”
He chuckled and steered her through the automatic doors with a hand to the small of her back. “Not this time.” Her sideways look was loaded with suspicion despite the shiver he felt go through her at his casual touch. “Promise. Scout’s honor.”
“I don’t believe for a minute that you were a Scout.”
“Hey, I’m a helpful kind of guy,” he cut in, stepping off the curb and lifting his arm when he spotted a lighted cab half a block away. “Just ask my mom. And I’m always prepared.”
“For what?” Holly asked beside him.
He shrugged. “For anything. Everything.”
“Like what?”
He paused for a couple of beats like he was seriously considering her question then a wicked glance across his shoulder prompted a raised eyebrow. “Like paying close attention to expiration dates.”
She huffed out a startled laugh as the cab pulled up, her look filled with censure for bringing up the condom incident. “With all your surgically enhanced beach bunnies, I would hope so,” she said primly as he stepped forward to open the rear door. “They probably don’t last long enough to expire.”
“That’s not entirely true,” he drawled as she slid across the seat and gave the cabbie her address. He wondered what she would say to the news that his most recent stash had been dangerously close to expiration or that he hadn’t thought about replacing them. Which was about as pathetic as his need for her company. Besides, he’d been in a relationship when his mother had been diagnosed. A relationship that had tanked faster than the Titanic the second the woman had found out he was thinking of giving up his lucrative practice to move east.
He’d been somewhat preoccupied and had completely missed the signs that she’d already transferred her affections to one of the other partners. When she’d thrown it in his face in a fit of pique, it had just reinforced the notion that he wasn’t relationship material. And when all he’d felt had been relief, he’d known then it was time for him to move on. Besides, with his mother gone, there was nothing keeping him in California.
Holly’s eyebrows rose up her smooth forehead. “Planning to live dangerously?”
Recalling that they were talking about his stash, Gabe chuckled and slid in behind her. “Hell, no. I have no intention of being caught in that particular web of lies and deceit.”
Her eyebrows rose in surprise. “Lies and deceit?”
“Do you know the lengths some women are prepared to go to snag themselves a rich doctor husband?”
“As a matter of fact, I do. It’s a common enough problem in med school, even though most med students have huge study loans to pay off and won’t make any money for years.”
“Yeah.” He shuddered. “I had a brief moment of terror in my fourth year that turned out to be a false alarm but a couple of buddies weren’t so lucky. One is already divorced and the other heading that way fast.” He watched the purity of her profile in the lights off Broadway and wondered at her belief that she was imperfect. Everyone was imperfect. It was what made people interesting.
He recalled something she’d said about her family and wondered if it had anything to do with her scars. But that was probably just speculation from his dysfunctional perspective.
“What about you?”
She turned toward him and his eyes slid over the elegant lines of her face gilded in warm gold from the streetlights. He’d like to say his examination was purely professional but he’d be lying.
“What about me?”
At this angle her scars were in shadow and he caught his breath at the stark beauty of her bone structure. He knew a lot of women who would kill to look like Holly Buchanan, scars or no scars. In fact, they just made her more interesting and…alluring, especially with emotion simmering in her eyes or when they darkened to a deep smoky blue when she was aroused.
He tried to stretch out his legs and ended up pressing his thigh firmly against hers. Heat gathered where they touched and the slight tremor he felt zip through her sent arrows of hunger and need into his belly until his jaw ached and his skin felt tight.
“Did you have to fight off party animals eager to marry a beautiful rich doctor and live a life of leisure?”
Her mouth dropped open and he could see he’d shocked her. Whether by the beautiful and rich statement or fighting off men, Gabe couldn’t tell.
“You’re kidding right?”
“Actually, no. I’ve lost count of the number of guys I’ve seen checking you out.”
She laughed, her genuine amusement filling the interior with warmth.
The sound settled into his gut alongside the clawing lust and made him stare. Damn. She should laugh more. It transformed her from merely quietly beautiful to breathtaking, and filled her eyes with warmth and light. She seemed suddenly alive. As if she’d forgotten her plan, forgotten to be serious and was simply living in the moment.
He wondered if she’d always been so serious or if her “perfect” family had somehow squashed the life and joy out of her. And the sudden impulse to bring her joy made the hair rise on the back of his neck.
Whoa. A trickle of unease slid down his spine like a drop of icy water. Since when did he fall over himself to make women happy? Maybe he was just tired and hungry. Maybe he just needed a shower, food and about twelve hours of sleep.
She sent him a sideways look filled with mischief and he swallowed. Hard. Holy crap. The back of his neck tightened and his chest clenched. This is bad. Very bad.
“You’re a funny man,” she said, her eyes sparkling like deep sapphires.
His eyes dropped to her lips, curved in merriment, and he thought, Oh, yeah. I’m hungry, all right. But it wasn’t for food. “Maybe you should do stand-up comedy.” He opened his mouth, although he had no idea what he was going to say.
“Huh?” was about the sum total of his brainpower.
“People stare at scars, Dr. Alexander,” she pointed out gently. “You, of all people, should know that. It’s what keeps plastic surgeons in business.”
What he did know was that when she spoke, all he could concentrate on was her mouth…and her eyes. The rest just faded away, retreated to the edges of his mind. Okay, maybe not faded because he was always aware of her soft, curvy body, but he didn’t see scars. He was too busy fighting the urge to yank her into his lap and study the shape of her with his hands and mouth.
“And maybe you should be more observant.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m very observant.”
“Uh-huh.” The cab turned and headed into Brooklyn. Gabe shifted in the seat to relieve the growing tightness behind his button fly but he knew he was fighting a losing battle. With every breath he took, her subtle feminine fragrance filled the cab and flooded his senses. It made him feel a little drunk.
Maybe it was just exhaustion.
He hoped it was just exhaustion.
The cab finally pulled up in front of her brownstone and he let out a relieved breath that he could escape before he did something he’d regret.
Like pull her into his lap and suck on that lip. Or run his hands under her snug little jacket to her soft, silky skin and lush curves.
“I’ll get that,” he said when Holly reached into her purse for the fare. He pushed open the door and slid from the cab. “Consider it payment for leaving you stranded the other night.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
HOLLY SCRAMBLED FROM the cab, bumping the door closed with her hip. Gabriel straightened and stepped back from paying the cabbie and she had a flash of him as he’d looked earlier in Theatre. Tall, steady and hot—despite the laid-back charm he’d dispensed with equal measure to everyone on his team.
Although she’d deliberately avoided any opportunity to observe him in action, she could readily understand why the surgical nursing staff fought to be on his team. Other than the obvious hotness factor, he was patient and quick to break any tension with supportive prai
se or a few wisecracks. He controlled the proceedings and the people around him with such skillful ease that everyone practically fell over themselves to please him.
Even her, she admitted with a frown. She could scarcely believe how they’d worked together—perfectly in sync—like they’d been doing it together for years instead of just a few hours.
It had been a little unnerving to discover that the man she’d been ready to dislike simply on principle wasn’t the spoiled Hollywood celebrity she’d been expecting. And he was good, damn it. Good at kissing and making the breath catch in her throat. Good at making her forget the plan, and really good at saving a man’s shattered face. So good that she couldn’t help the little niggle of jealousy at the way he made things look so easy when she had to work so darned hard.
Sighing, she watched the cab disappear around the corner. A chilly wind had kicked up a few fall leaves and she shivered, hunching into her thin jacket as she looked up into a clear night sky. The moon was large and fat and seemed closer to the earth than usual and the halo around it promised a cold winter ahead.
She usually hated winter but for some reason it made her think of half-empty bottles of wine, a roaring fire and the flash of naked limbs and satisfied sighs. Her pulse leapt and heat rose from deep in her belly until it surrounded her in a shimmering glow—like a banked fire smoldering in her core, just waiting to burst into flame.
Puffing out her cheeks, she rolled her eyes because…because the tangle of limbs in her vision belonged to her and…and…
Another shiver moved through Holly.
She was in trouble.
Big trouble.
Spooked by her realization as much as the wildly erotic visions in her head, she turned and caught him watching silently from a few feet away. And in that instant her perception of him underwent yet another metamorphosis.
With only one side of his face starkly lit by moonlight and the rest in deep shadow, he looked big and bad and a little dangerous. Like a fierce golden angel banished from the heavens for inspiring illicit thoughts and needs in mortal women.
Gone was the laid-back flirt as well as the brilliant innovative surgeon with a knack for getting the best out of everyone. In his place was a man seemingly shrouded in mystery and…and aching loneliness.
The image made her heart squeeze in her chest and she had to resist the urge to go to him, press close to his big body and chase away the shadows she sometimes saw in his eyes.
But Gabriel Alexander was big and bad and beautiful and he certainly didn’t need her. He didn’t need anyone—especially someone scarred and focused on reaching her goals.
Shrugging off the uncomfortable realization that he was more than the hot, sexy Hollywood celebrity that made her tingle in hidden places, Holly became aware of the intensity of his gaze. His utter stillness unnerved her. She opened her mouth and said, “Did you know that Neil Armstrong was a Boy Scout?” before she could stop herself. “In fact, seventy one percent of astronauts,” she continued determinedly, “are believed to have been Scouts.”
His mouth curved, dispelling the image of a remote celestial being, and for once Holly didn’t care if she sounded like a crazy person. She’d hated seeing that remoteness surrounding him like a thick, impenetrable cloud.
She bit her lip at the memory of the way his mouth had felt closing over hers. Of the way it had created a light suction that had made her breath hitch and her bones melt. She shivered again and this time it had nothing to do with the chill wind blowing from the north, announcing that winter was on its way.
Exactly what her shiver was announcing, Holly couldn’t tell. Only that it made her heart pound, her skin tingle and her knees wobble like she’d tossed back one too many mojitos on an empty stomach.
“How did we get from being stranded in New York City to Neil Armstrong?”
“The moon, Boy Scouts…” she said a little breathlessly. “It seemed… I don’t know…logical.” She was helplessly caught in his eyes and the web of heat and tension that surrounded them. A tension that grew thicker by the minute, stealing her oxygen and her bones.
Her stomach chose that instant to growl loudly and she pressed a hand against the rumble, hoping he hadn’t heard. But then it dawned on her that her weird dizziness—and possibly the hallucinations of lonely celestial beings—was simply a matter of low blood sugar. Her breath rushed out in a noisy whoosh of relief. Oh, thank God, she thought dizzily. All she needed was a quick meal, about ten hours of sleep and she’d be back to normal.
Whew. She gave a husky laugh that sounded a little too hysterical for comfort and headed for the steps leading to her house. What a relief.
She opened her mouth to call out goodnight and gave a surprised yelp when Gabriel took her elbow and steered her away from her brownstone.
Toward his.
“What…what are you doing?”
“Hmm?”
“That’s your house, Dr. Alexander, not mine.”
“I know, and don’t you think we’re past the stage of calling each other doctor?”
She wasn’t going to talk about the kiss and calling him Dr. Alexander helped remind her that he was a colleague. She tugged on her elbow and growled when he ignored her attempts and continued to steer her calmly across the sidewalk, up the stairs past the late-blooming flowers in pots to the heavy wooden door. “Gabriel…why are you taking me to your house?”
The overhead light illuminated his features, revealing a wicked grin and gleaming eyes. She gave a mental eye roll. Yeesh, so much for the lonely celestial being image. He looked more like a fallen angel hell-bent on mischief and mayhem.
“Well,” he said, fishing his keys from his pocket one-handed and jiggling them till he found the one he wanted. “I’m going to cook.” He shoved the key in the lock.
She couldn’t have been more surprised. “But…it’s after one in the morning.”
He arched that mocking brow at her and pushed open the door, drawing her closer despite her obvious reluctance. “You have a meal waiting for you?”
Hovering uncertainly on the threshold, she tugged on her arm and sent him a look filled with feminine exasperation when he tugged her closer instead. “Well, no, but…”
He drew her all the way in and shut the door, instantly surrounding them in deep silence that only emphasized her unsteady breathing and fraying nerves. “You haven’t lived till you’ve sampled my…er…omelets.” His grin flashed in response to her squeak as though he knew her mind had descended into the gutter. “Relax. I’ll feed you and send you home. Scout’s honor.”
“I thought we’d established that you were never a Scout.”
“No.” He chuckled. “You established that.”
Holly chewed nervously on her bottom lip as she looked around at the boxes still littering the floor. Not knowing what to do with her hands, she smoothed them over her thighs to disguise their trembling. “Maybe I should—”
He lifted a long tanned finger and placed it gently on her lips. “Food first.” His touch made them tingle and she had to fight an overwhelming urge to open her mouth and lick him. Or maybe nibble on that long tanned digit.
She sucked in a sharp breath. Holy cow. She’d never had that kind of impulse before, which either meant low blood sugar was making her hallucinate or…or she was headed down a one-way street to disaster. She knew exactly which one she’d put her money on but hoped like hell she was just hallucinating.
His eyes gleamed as though he knew what he was doing to her, and in addition to her growing sense of looming disaster was an impulse to bite.
Huh.
Maybe she was just hungry after all.
“It’s the least I can do after hijacking you at the gym.”
At the mention of the gym, her face went hot and a little voice in the back of her head told her to run and keep running until the memory of those few minutes faded.
But he was taking her shoulder bag and briefcase hostage and to cover her tripping pulse she turned he
r attention to the furniture dotting the space not taken up by boxes.
It looked like one-tattoo-for-every-skirmish guy had simply dumped everything in Gabriel’s sitting room and left.
“Interesting décor,” she murmured, thinking there weren’t even drapes at the windows and he’d been living here, what…three weeks already? But she’d seen his schedule and he’d probably only had time to come home, shower and sleep before returning to the hospital.
A glance over her shoulder caught Gabriel’s grimace as he dropped her bags onto the nearest box. He pulled his black hoodie over his head, briefly exposing his flat, tanned belly before dropping the garment over her briefcase. The stark white T-shirt tested the seams of his shoulders and stretched across his chest, emphasizing the depth of his tan and the width of his biceps. She dropped her gaze to where she’d seen that flash of taut, tanned flesh and wondered why the brief sight of his belly button had seemed so…intimate. More intimate somehow than his earlier kiss. The one that had sucked the breath from her lungs along with her mind and any thoughts about her future.
“I haven’t had much time to unpack or find someone to do it for me,” he was saying, and Holly had to tear her gaze away from where her eyes had dropped to his button fly before he caught her ogling his package again.
Crap. Maybe she was losing her mind. Maybe this…this feeling of impending disaster was just the first sign of her unraveling mind.
Sucking in breath in an effort to calm her skittering nerves, she said, “My mother has a concierge service that could probably help.” There, she silently congratulated herself. That didn’t sound crazy, did it?
“Yeah? That’d be great.” He thrust a hand through his hair, tousling the overlong strands even further, and she had to curl her hands into fists to stop from reaching out and smoothing the thick sun-streaked locks. “I hate unpacking,” he admitted sheepishly, seemingly oblivious to her chaotic thoughts. “Even if I’d had the time, I wouldn’t know where to put all this stuff. I just want my couch and TV set up so I can watch the games.”
