by Jill Shalvis
Faith walked down the hall, practicing her abstinence speech in her head, but it seemed old-fashioned, even if she wholeheartedly believed in it for all seventeen-year-olds. But these days she had to be more realistic, and she needed to be armed with more advice than look but don’t touch.
It turned out there wasn’t just seventeen-year-old Elizabeth Stone in room seven, but her boyfriend as well, if the fact that they were thigh-to-thigh and holding hands meant anything.
Oh, and one Dr. Luke Walker, sitting right in front of them, all comfy cozy in the third patient chair. Elizabeth and the boy were smiling, and so was Luke. He was leaning back, one long leg crossed over the other, looking utterly at ease as he discussed the advantages of condoms for sex, every single time.
All three of them looked up at her when she entered, and Luke handed her Liz’s chart.
“Thanks for the appointment,” Elizabeth said to Dr. Walker, and with a smile at Faith, she and her boyfriend left.
Faith looked at Luke. “What are you doing?”
“Your receptionist asked me to handle some of your patients. You’re backed up.”
You’re backed up. Not we. Of course not we, he wasn’t a part of them, he was simply fulfilling what he considered a punishment by his hospital. “What did Elizabeth say?”
“She refused to discuss abstinence so we talked about STDs until she turned green. Then we talked about condoms.”
Faith would’ve given them the same talk about sexually transmitted diseases so she had no idea why she felt the need to argue with him. Had she wanted him to disappoint her? Was she that shallow simply because he had been the one to step in?
He yawned, and in an absent gesture, scratched his chest. Then he looked at his watch.
“Long day?”
They stood so close she could see his eyes weren’t just that light see-through blue, they had specks of a darker blue dancing in them. Combined with the shadow on his jaw and his sleepy eyes, he seemed edgy, almost unbearably, effortlessly…sexy. Damn him.
And he still smelled like woodsy soap and one hundred percent perfect pure man. How annoying was that when she knew the only thing that she smelled like was disinfectant soap.
Pass the chocolate, please.
“Long couple of nights,” he admitted, and something about the weariness in his voice caught her because she suspected this was an actual moment of vulnerability, something he didn’t often show to a mere mortal like herself.
Then Shelby poked her head around the corner. “There you are. Amy Sinclair, in room three with another migraine. We’ve got aromatherapy and acupressure going but she asked for you, Faith.”
When she was gone, she felt Luke’s tension and braced herself.
“Aromatherapy.” He said this like it was a bad word. “As in…candles?”
“Essential oils.”
“For a migraine?”
“Or for any of a hundred other things. With essential oils you can treat sinus problems or use the oils as a sedative. Or even stimulate cell regeneration. They’re also useful as an antiseptic—”
“You realize there are conventional medicines for such things.”
“Conventional medicine hasn’t worked for this patient.”
“Have you tried—”
“Yes.”
“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”
“She’s tired of drugs, Luke.” And she was tired of this argument. “She’s done with the pain, and our methods are working for her. This is what she wants from us, Dr. Universe. Are you in or not?”
“Dr. Universe?” His eyes darkened. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that you, like most doctors, have a God complex.”
His mouth fell open a little before he snapped it shut. Then, without another word, he turned and stalked off.
Faith waited for the surge of triumph. She’d actually won a round.
But it never came.
* * *
WHEN THE LAST PATIENT was gone, Faith headed toward her office. She hadn’t seen Luke in a little while, not since they’d clashed again—in patient room five this time—over whether or not acupressure could ease the chronic pain of a man who’d broken his back the year before in a car accident. Luke had wanted to try muscle relaxants, but the patient, sick of drugs that didn’t work, wanted to heal in a more natural way.
Luke had been gracious about it, with his usual warm bedside manner, and hadn’t let one single iota of his frustration show. Not to anyone but Faith, of course, from whom he never seemed to try to hide a thing.
He was probably in the staff room now, waiting for her, brooding, pouting, and she sneaked past, heading for her office. All she wanted was five minutes on her couch with the lights off. She wanted that more than she wanted a candy bar, and that was saying something. Her head hurt, her body trembled, and she wanted to cry in frustration at the thought of getting sick now.
She opened her office door and made a beeline for her couch. She was so intent on this, it took her a moment to realize it was already taken.
Luke lay there, on his back, sprawled out, fast asleep. His feet hung off, as did one arm, making him look cramped and uncomfortable, but he lay there, head turned to the side, dead to the world.
At least he didn’t snore. She eyed his long, lean, muscular body, now dressed in those ridiculous flowered scrubs she’d given him, and had to let out a soft laugh. He made them look…fun. He’d made a lot of things look fun today, all from the viewpoint of her patients. She had to admit, the man had a way with people.
Patients, she corrected. The man had a way with patients. Not with people.
Certainly not with her.
He sighed in his sleep, and shifted, pulling his arm back up. His usually intense face was slightly softened, and…well, boyish. She could almost forget that he had a sharp tongue and even sharper wit. Almost.
His arm fell off the edge again. What a waste of incredible God-given masculinity, she thought with a roll of her eyes and nudged his foot with her own.
“What?” He sat straight up, eyes open and alert, like most medical professionals, quite used to being woken for any variety of emergencies.
“What’s the matter?” he asked. The only sign of lingering grogginess was a wide yawn that revealed teeth as perfect as the rest of him.
“You’re on my couch.”
“Sorry.” He stood, and once again stretched that long, magnificent body. “More patients?”
“No, I just need the couch.” His yawn was contagious and she fought her own.
“Is that it for today then?”
“Yes. Thank you,” she added. “I know we had a few differences of opinion—” He laughed, and she glared at him. “I was trying to be nice.”
“What we have is more than a difference in opinion, Faith. Try major differences in life philosophies.” His eyes met hers in a long, knowing look. “There’s no prettying that up.”
“But you stayed.”
“Not much of a choice,” he pointed out.
“Yeah, because you’re a marketing nightmare.”
His smile was grim. “Don’t you know it.”
“And because you like your position and prestige at the hospital.”
He eyed her for a heartbeat during which time she wondered why in the world she was baiting the tiger. “Yes,” he said eventually. “I like my position at the hospital. I like it a lot.”
“So…after a day of being here, after seeing what we do for our patients, can’t you maybe admit you were wrong about the clinic?”
Another long moment. “I can admit you help people,” he allowed.
Was that the most she was going to get? Apparently so. And yet really, what had she expected? That he’d thank her for proving him wrong today? Yeah, right.
Exhausted, frustrated, she sank to the couch and nearly moaned out load at the delicious body heat he’d left her. A good amount of her resentment faded, and snuggling in, she let out a serrat
ed sigh.
“Good?”
“Better than good.” She sighed again, softly, blissfully.
His eyes heated at the sound and her tummy fluttered.
He leaned over her, a long, warm arm on either side of her hips.
The tingle in her tummy spread. She considered how she’d feel if he kissed her, and had just decided she might actually let him when the blanket drifted over her. “What are you doing?”
“Tucking you in. Need a bedtime story?”
Oh boy. “Doctor of the universe and a comedian, too.”
He tilted his head in a mocking bow.
She closed her eyes so she wouldn’t stare at his mouth, which was wide, firm, and she suspected, quite talented. Damn distracting. Every part of him was damn distracting. “I just want a quick catnap.”
“Will it improve your disposition?”
She opened her eyes again. “Did it improve yours?”
Stunning her, he smiled, and quite frankly, it took her breath. “My disposition is perfect,” he claimed.
“Uh-huh.”
His smile faded and he traced a finger over her temple, exactly where it throbbed. “Maybe…” He shifted even closer, and her heart stopped because surely this time he was going to kiss her. “Maybe you should give yourself some sort of…” He waved his hand. “Stinky treatment or something.”
“Stinky?”
“You know…your smelly oils.”
With a groaning laugh, she lay back. “Aromatherapy.” No, she wouldn’t be disappointed he hadn’t leaned in and put his mouth on hers.
“Like I said, stinky stuff.”
“I’m going to hold that against you.”
“Yeah.” He stared right back at her, an unreadable expression on his face. “I feel the same way.” Then he moved toward the door, shutting it behind him.
She stared at the closed door, her heartbeat still a little unsteady. His disposition was perfect, was it? Before he’d turned on that amazing bedside manner just now she would have laughed out loud at the thought, but all she could do at the moment was feel his hands on her as he’d tucked the blanket in, the heat in his gaze as he’d run it over her, the touch of his fingers on her face… Oh, God.
She was lusting after Dr. Universe.
Maybe Shelby and Guy were right, maybe she just needed sex. This thought was both thrilling and terrifying.
Emphasis on the terrifying.
* * *
LUKE DROVE HOME THAT night, going over the day in his head. Naturopathic healing. Utilizing energy and scents and massage for healing.
And people paid for that stuff!
It baffled him that the patients at Healing Waters had seemed so clearly impressed with their treatments, so certain they were getting the best out there. Not a single person had voiced discontent or bitched at the staff. Not a single soul had left unsatisfied.
In comparison was South Village Medical Center, where on an hourly basis someone threatened to sue, yelled at the receptionist, or was positive the hospital was out to get them.
He walked into his dark house, kicked off his shoes and stripped out of his shirt. He was heading toward the shower when his phone rang. He glanced at the caller ID and picked up the phone to the only person he felt like talking to at the moment, his brother.
“So, now you’re a publicity nightmare,” Matt said in his ear, his voice thick with a smile. “Big surprise there, huh? What did you say this time?”
Luke sighed. “Carmen told you.”
“I called earlier. She might have mentioned it.”
“Then you know what I said.”
“I just wanted to hear you say it. Did you really call the hospital, the board that pays you, the idiocy of bureaucracy?”
“Maybe.” Luke rubbed the aching spot between his eyes. “Look, they let Carmen go along with a bunch of the other hospital workers, all low income, all in housekeeping. Fired them on the spot, claiming money shortages. And yet they’re helping to fund this clinic with its alternative ‘healing’ mumbo jumbo.”
“Ah. And your sense of injustice is screaming.”
“Everyone’s sense of injustice should be screaming, Matt. If they did this at your hospital, you’d be screaming, admit it.”
“Hey, here in Texas we don’t scream. We pontificate.”
“I had to do something.”
His brother sobered. “Yeah, I know. And it explains why Carmen is now running your life. You hired her to clean your house on a daily basis, even though you’re never home to mess it up, didn’t you?”
“Let’s talk about you,” Luke decided. “You marry your absentminded professor yet?”
“Hey, I only fell in love with Molly a week ago.”
“Ah. Cold feet. Can’t blame you about that one little bit. Love has never been our thing, has it?”
“I am not having cold feet. And love is my thing now.”
“The single women in the world are weeping.”
“Nah, they still have you.”
Luke sighed. “It’s a sad day when I have to say I’m too busy to be there for them.”
“That is a sad day,” Matt agreed.
“Call me after the honeymoon.”
“Oh, no. When we get married, which will be soon, you’ll be there.”
“Weddings give me the hives.”
“Too bad. You’re the only family I have, Luke. The only family who ever mattered anyway.”
“Yeah.” Luke felt the same way, and thinking it made his voice gruff. “I’ll come.”
“Good. So stay out of hot water, at least until this all passes, okay?”
“It’s not going to pass for three months.”
“I don’t suppose you can keep your mouth shut that entire time.”
“Faith would love that.”
“Faith? Who’s Faith?”
“My boss at the clinic.”
“Is she single?” Matt asked with the sudden interest of a bloodhound on the scent.
“I don’t know.”
“What does she look like?”
“I thought you had your woman.”
“I’m thinking of you. So…is she hot?”
“Matt—”
“Hey, I just want you to be as happy as I am. So is she? Hot?”
The image of her came to mind; Faith with her long flowing red hair that never seemed to obey its restraints, her huge, expressive, and usually annoyed, green eyes, and that curvy little bod which filled out her scrubs in a way that made his hands itch. Faith…hot? Oh, yeah. “She’s hot under the collar,” he said carefully.
“She’s hot,” Matt decided with a delighted laugh.
“Goodbye, Matt.”
“Are you going to ask her out?”
“Goodbye, Matt.”
“You are, aren’t you?”
“Good—”
“Yeah, yeah. Good luck, Luke.”
With a shake of his head and a surprising smile, Luke hung up the phone. Quiet surrounded him, and his smile went nostalgic. God, he really missed having his brother around. They’d had some amazing times growing up in Texas, roaming their grandfather’s fields with little to no supervision, finding trouble more often than not, but always finding it together, and suddenly, the thousand miles separating them seemed so huge. Maybe he’d take a vacation when this was over.
Right. A vacation.
He never took time off.
Well, he would, he decided. It’d be his own little reward for getting through the next two and three quarters months of Saturdays.
And one Faith McDowell.
Finishing stripping down, he showered, and was practically asleep by the time he padded naked from the bathroom straight to his bed.
Carmen had made it for him, complete with pillows neatly lined up against the headboard and the heavy comforter he never bothered with, all pulled up nice and smooth. He wasn’t used to sliding into a nicely organized bed, as his mornings were usually a race to get ready while trying to remember whe
re he’d left his keys and wallet. He couldn’t spare the time to make his bed. Besides, he was just going to mess it up again at night, so he never understood the need to waste those extra few moments in the mornings.
But he had to admit, it felt good. Closing his eyes, he prepared to let sleep claim him, but for some reason, his mind once again ran over the day’s events.
Despite being so busy, the clinic had run smoothly, he’d give Faith that. Her patients were carefully tended to and cared for with a personal touch he had to admit had surprised him.
Faith…
When he finally dozed off, she was still on his mind, and he dreamed about her healing him. Doing it with just her fingertips, healing him…when he hadn’t known he needed healing.
CHAPTER 4
FAITH HAD HER usual Sunday and Monday off, and since the clinic was closed, she considered a bike ride, a movie…even a shopping spree. Instead, she made the mistake of looking in her office. Seeing the stacks of paperwork waiting for her there, she ended up working both days.
On Tuesday, Healing Waters opened to slightly more patients than any time since Dr. Walker’s public disdain. Wednesday, the same.
The rest of the week went by without event, other than each day showing an extremely slight increase of business, with references from the hospital and local doctors starting to pile in.
Hope among the staff surged, and Faith felt so great she didn’t even crave chocolate.
By Saturday, their schedule was busting at the seams, with a shocking number of people asking to be put with Dr. Walker.
Seemed he really was a savior—theirs.
Suddenly Faith could see the light at the end of the tunnel, the day when they’d be fully operating in the black. When it got there, she’d take her first big sigh of relief since using her retirement funds to open the place. But for now, she had a lot of holding her breath left to do, and a lot of writing with red pencil on the books.
Still, the hope that had begun like a small seed in her chest earlier in the week blossomed, and she couldn’t contain her smile as she came downstairs from her little apartment into the staff room.
Shelby, Guy and Catherine—their herbalist—were sitting at a table sharing wheat muffins and arguing over which one of the wildflowers in the vase in the center of the table provided the most calming effect. The muffins were clearly from Shelby—their resident health nut—and the coffee was from Guy, who needed caffeine by the bucketful.
