by Jill Shalvis
Carmen used her good hand to hit him upside the head.
Luke grinned. “See? You’re feeling better already.”
Faith held the door open. “So…see you next Saturday.”
His gaze met hers over the top of Carmen’s head. The humor was gone now, and suddenly she braced herself. He was going to say he wasn’t coming back.
Which, really, would be fine. More than fine. They rubbed each other the wrong way, they…also rubbed each other the right way.
“Next week,” he agreed softly, and then he was gone, leaving her staring out into the night, wondering if she felt relieved…or terrified.
* * *
ON MONDAY MORNING LUKE was called into Leo’s office at the hospital. “Good news,” his friend boomed. “Faith McDowell gave you a glowing recommendation. You must have made quite an impression these last two weeks, with all those hot oil therapies and healing touches.”
Luke opened his mouth, saw the twinkle in Leo’s eyes and relaxed. “Sure. Make fun. You’re not the one having to give up two and a half months more of Saturdays.”
“You don’t either.”
“What?”
Leo lifted a brow. “She released you. Said that while she was impressed with your grasp of alternative healing techniques—”
Luke snorted.
Leo shot him a long look. “You don’t need to fulfill the rest of your time at the clinic.”
Faith had released him from his duty.
This was just about the last thing he expected. He waited for the elation. For the satisfaction. For the sheer overwhelming relief.
Leo laughed at his confusion. “I thought you’d be dancing in the hallways at the news.”
“Yeah.” Luke walked the length of the office and looked out the window. Dancing in the hallways? He would, but suddenly his stomach had fallen to a region somewhere near his toes. “Leo—”
Leo’s pager went off. “Sorry, gotta run.”
Yeah. So did Luke. The E.R. was full and they were short staffed. Over the rest of the day he removed two spleens, set a broken hip, stitched up a motorcyclist…and never stopped thinking about Healing Waters. Faith.
Why had she released him? She needed him, she’d said so. She needed his visible, public support. She needed the free additional medical staff. She needed…him.
He couldn’t shake it, which was the only reason he stopped by the clinic after his shift instead of going home. It had nothing, nothing at all, to do with wanting to see her again.
No one answered his knock downstairs, but that made sense as the clinic was always closed on Mondays. Going around the back, he took the stairs, which were lined with potted plants. On her porch sat a comfy looking wooden swing. Her back door had a large window in it, lined with lace, which allowed him a clear look into her lit kitchen.
And what his clear look afforded him stopped his heart.
Faith, slumped on the floor.
CHAPTER 5
LUKE FUMBLED FOR Faith’s door. Finding it locked, he stepped back, then charged it. With far less brute strength than he could have imagined, the door shuddered open.
She hadn’t budged. She had her back to the cabinets, her arms around her drawn-up knees and her head down, and was far too still.
He dropped to his knees beside her. “Faith.”
Slowly, as if it hurt to move, she lifted her head. Her face was ashen, and when he cupped her jaw in his shaking hands, she was damp with sweat. “Don’t touch me,” she said. “I’m getting sick.”
He slid his hand through a tangle of long red hair. “The flu?” He stroked her hair from her face, felt her forehead. She was cool, even cold.
“It always happens when I let myself get run down. It’s an old virus, and I felt it coming for two weeks. I’m all shaky and dizzy. Damn it.”
He might have smiled at her petulant tone, if his heart wasn’t still threatening to burst right out of his chest. “You don’t have a fever.”
“So?”
“So when did you eat last?”
Scowling at him, she pushed him away and made to get up, but he slid his hands to her hips and held her down.
She glared at him.
“Stay.” Surging to his feet, he went to her refrigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice. He brought it to her. “Drink.”
“From the carton?” she asked with such horror he laughed.
“Just a few sips.”
“I’d rather have some tea. You don’t by any chance know how to make purple coneflower tea?”
“Huh?”
“Echinacea. It’s used to boost the immune system, and also as an antibiotic.”
Luke just stared at her.
“Oh, never mind.” Leaning her head back against the counter, she tipped the carton up and took a swig.
He watched a drop escape her lips and glide down her chin, gaining momentum and hitting a breast. For some oddly inappropriate reason, his mouth watered. He swallowed hard. “Still dizzy?”
“Yeah.”
“Then keep your eyes open.” He kept his gaze on hers. With his hands already on her body, it was the safest route, though it was a little shocking to realize he needed a safe route. “It’ll help.”
When she shot him a daggered look, he lifted a shoulder. “Hey, once a doctor…” He watched her take another sip of juice, and some color came back into her cheeks. Satisfied, he leaned back on his heels and let out a breath. “Well. That was fun.”
“Sorry.” Leaning back against the counter, she studied the ceiling. “You can give me some room now.”
Yeah. Yeah, he probably could. Clearly she didn’t want him hovering any more than he wanted to hover, so he scooted back a bit.
Better. Definitely better.
Too bad he couldn’t forget the feel of her in his hands, and doubted he would anytime soon.
“Did you break my door?”
“Easily. Christ, Faith, anyone could break in here.”
“Well, lucky for me, no one but you wanted to.” Staggering to her feet, she shoved her hair out of her face and sighed. “I feel a little better.”
He opened his mouth to say something to that, something pithy he was certain, but she narrowed her eyes on him. “So why are you here?”
“I—” He blinked. Why had he come? He looked into her green, green eyes and tried to remember. “You told the hospital you don’t need me anymore.”
She stared at him, then let out a low laugh. “And that bothered you? I thought you’d be celebrating.”
“Why, Faith?”
“Why? My God, Luke.” She scrubbed her hands over her face and finally dropped them to her sides, looking tired, so very tired he had to fight the urge to move close again. To put his hands back on her and—
“Look, I’m not up for this.” Still looking a bit too shaky for his comfort, she moved to the open door, and waited expectantly for him to obey her silent command and scram.
“Gee,” he said. “I guess we’re done talking.”
“So done.”
“Are you always cranky when you don’t eat?”
“I told you, I have a vir—”
“Virus,” he said at the same time as her, and shaking his head, he moved to the door and shut it. “So.” He leaned into her, and yet again his pulse jumped, and so did hers. He could see it beating furiously at the base of her throat. “Is it really that you don’t feel good, or was it the shock of attraction when I touched you?”
Her mouth tightened, but she remained stubbornly mute.
“Yeah,” he said softly. “Thought so.”
“You are the most egotistical man I’ve ever met.”
“Egotistical?” He let out a rough laugh. “Faith, I put my hands on you in a purely nonsexual way and it jolted me to my toes. Is it ‘egotistical’ to admit that terrifies me?”
She bit her lower lip, a sexy little gesture that didn’t help matters any. “Okay, maybe I felt it, too. A little.”
“A little,�
�� he repeated. For a reason completely unknown to himself, he stroked her jaw. “What are we going to do about it?”
“Nothing, nothing at all. I’m too busy, and you…you’re back to your own life, Dr. Universe. Thanks for the help the last two weekends, but your services are no longer needed or required.”
Since he spent most of his life being needed in one form or another, this should have been a welcome break. She was right, he should be celebrating. “Fine.”
“Fine.”
Now he felt tense again. “You really feeling better?”
“Sure.”
Yeah, and he was Santa Claus. “What did you last eat?”
“I had a nice big pasta salad for lunch, a good healthy snack of carrots—”
“Dinner, Faith. Something with protein.”
“By dinner I was sick,” she admitted. “I didn’t want to eat.”
“You need a keeper, you know that?”
“I’ve been on my own for a long time. For forever. I’m my own keeper.”
“Well then, damn it, do a better job. Where’s your family?”
“Africa, if you must know. They’re missionaries. And before you ask, I have a sister, but she’s in Europe. She works as a traveling midwife there.”
So she was as alone as he was. “They’re as dedicated as you.”
“More. They give everything they have to their jobs, over everything else. At least I still manage to have a life.”
“Really? When?”
She looked away. “Sometimes.”
He didn’t like the hint of sadness in her eyes, or the knowledge that her parents had put their work ahead of their children, much the way his own had. “And so you’re completely alone.” The way he was. Damn it, why had he started this conversation?
“I have the clinic.”
Yeah, the clinic. Which brought them full circle. “Just tell me why you released me from my duties here.”
“You’re a smart man,” she whispered, stepping back, away from his touch. “You figure it out.”
“But—”
“Good night, Luke.” With a gentle shove, she put him back out into the night.
The door shut behind him, but when he turned, there was a definite gap between the wood and the jamb. He stared at it uneasily. “Put a chair beneath the knob,” he said to the wood. “And I’ll send someone to fix that lock tomorrow.”
“Good night, Luke.”
“A chair,” he repeated, and stood there until he heard her do it, then with a long, pent-up breath, drove home.
You’re a smart man, you figure it out.
But he didn’t, not until hours and hours had passed, during which time he’d tossed and turned in his bed, watching the shadow of the moon play across the ceiling.
Finally, with the rising sun, he got it. She’d released him from his duties for the exact same reason he’d been so afraid to go back.
It was that undeniable something between them, a spark neither of them could ignore, and neither wanted. More importantly, there was a need.
He needed her.
He, Luke Walker, who did his damn best not to need anyone else, needed her.
* * *
A FEW SLEEPLESS NIGHTS later, Luke sat in front of his television with no idea what was on. His head hurt, his mind was full of things; work mostly, and the incredible miracles they’d performed at the hospital all week, and also his brother’s upcoming wedding, which was now definitely set for summer.
He was Matt’s best man, which was okay, even if a part of him was still baffled over how his brother could possibly want to sleep with the same woman for the rest of his life.
Damn, he needed ibuprofen. Too bad he was out of them. A doctor who couldn’t heal his own headache. Sad.
Tomorrow was Saturday. A day he should have dedicated to one redheaded, temperamental, beautifully infuriating Faith McDowell because of his own big mouth.
But she’d politely set him free.
Which really, as Leo had said, should have sent him dancing down the hallways. And it would, if his head didn’t still feel as if it was going to fall right off his shoulders.
When he heard the knock at his door, he turned off the TV. Maybe if he was really quiet, whoever it was would go away. Far away.
Another knock didn’t improve the pounding in his head, so he got up. The last person in the world he expected, and the one person on his mind, stood there wearing a flowery sundress and strappy sandals.
Faith McDowell, so tough and in charge of her world, had pink toenails and a dainty little silver toe ring.
“Hi.” She let out a little smile. “Am I interrupting anything?”
“Nothing but a king-size headache.”
“Really?” She cocked her head and sent him a sympathetic look. “I could fix that for you.”
“You have ibuprofen? I’m completely out, and too lazy to go to the store.”
“I don’t need pills.”
“Hmm.” He eyed her. “You have fairy dust?”
“Maybe.” She reached for his hand. “Let me get rid of the headache for you, Luke.”
He felt the pull of her touch like a thousand watts as she led him into his own house. Did she feel it? he wondered as he followed her like an eager puppy, watching her slim, straight spine, her hips swaying in a way that made his aching head spin.
She craned her neck when he slowed his steps, and her hair wildly flowed around her bare shoulders. “Problem?”
Hell, yes. “No. No problem.”
She sent him a smile from beneath lowered lashes that revealed nothing of her true thoughts. “Then what’s the slowdown? You chicken?” she taunted.
Her voice was low, sexy, and he doubted that was intentional. Still, the teasing lightened his own troubled thoughts. “Hell, yeah, I’m chicken. There’s a reason I always wear the doctor’s coat.”
“It’ll only take a minute for me to make you feel better, I promise.” She pushed him down to his coach and stood over him, her hands on her hips.
His eyes hungrily traveled up the length of her curvy, lush body. “Is it gonna hurt?” he asked, only half kidding.
“Not if you believe.”
He nearly swallowed his tongue when she dropped to her knees on the floor beside him, head now level with the part of his body coming to hopeful attention. Complicating matters, she put her hand on his thigh.
From her shockingly innocent yet unbearably erotic position, with her hair brushing his knee, she smiled. “Put your hand on your thigh,” she instructed. “Palm up.”
“Uh…” He was getting more intelligent by the moment.
“Just try it,” she said in that voice that brought to mind hot, wild sex on silk sheets by moonlight.
Just try it. He set his hand as directed on his thigh.
“Close your eyes.”
“Faith—”
“Close ‘em, doc.”
At least she’d left off the Universe endearment. Slowly, feeling…strangely aware, he closed his eyes.
After a heartbeat, her finger ran over his, lightly, and he relaxed.
“Good,” she whispered. “Let go. Let it all go.”
Her voice was hypnotic, and he loosened up even more. Then, suddenly, he felt a pinch in the fleshy part of his hand between his thumb and pointer finger, and his eyes flew open. “Ouch!”
Faith shook her head and laughed. “Oh, please. I barely squeezed.” She held the pressure steadily, her eyes holding his. “Let out your breath,” she demanded softly, “Don’t stop breathing… What do you feel?”
He felt her hands on his. He felt her soft breath on his arm, he felt her breast pressing into his leg, and suddenly he couldn’t remember what she’d asked, though she was clearly waiting on an answer.
“Um…what?”
She lifted a brow. “Is the pain eased?”
The dull throbbing in his head was indeed eased and he blinked in confusion.
She laughed. Just tossed her head back and laughed,
the sound full and throaty, and so damned sexy he nearly tumbled himself down onto the floor to be right next to her.
“Oh, Luke. If you could see your face.” She was still grinning. “Such shock. What’s the matter, you’ve never eased an ache without a little pill?”
“All you did was use a pressure point.”
“Well, give the man an A plus. And welcome to acupressure, an alternative and effective way of healing.” She shifted, preparing to stand, but for just a flash, a very dizzy flash, she stayed on her knees practically between his, a hand braced on his thigh, and all the blood in his head drained. A sound escaped him, one that sounded rough and…needy.
Suddenly wide-eyed, she stared at him. Licked her lips in a nervous, artless gesture that made him groan.
Startled at the second sound ripped from his throat, she went to move away, but he grabbed her wrist, halting her exit.
Her hand came up between them for balance, pressing against his chest, and for a long moment they just looked at each other. Slowly, he took her hands and linked their fingers, then moved their joined hands to the small of her back. Nudging her forward, into the V of his spread legs, into his hips, he let out another groan.
She relaxed her stiff body against his, and sighed. With pleasure? God, he wished he knew, because he was dying of it. With a purely physical response, he rocked against her.
A little sound escaped her now, one that managed to perfectly convey her bewildered arousal. Her fingers curled into his.
Then suddenly she stood, and he was staring at her nicely rounded ass as she moved away, toward the door.
“Faith? Where are you going?”
“Home.”
“But…” Rising, he moved after her, and caught her at the door. “You never said why you came.”
She nibbled on her lower lip, that nervous little gesture he found fascinating. “I wanted to thank you for the other night. You were being so kind and I…”
“Was being grumpy?”
That coaxed out a smile. “Yeah.”
“You feel better?”
“I do.”
They stood staring at each other for a long, awkward beat. Slowly Luke shook his head. “What?” Faith whispered.
