Luke

by Jill Shalvis

  She laughed. “It’s just that M.D.s don’t usually—” At his raised eyebrow, she stopped. “Okay, I have to admit, you’re not the typical doctor.”

  Now that caught his attention. “There’s a ‘typical’ doctor?”

  “Yeah, at least from a nurse’s perspective there is. They’re egotistical, arrogant, impolite…just to mention a few character flaws.”

  “I have all those traits,” he said quietly. “Just ask anyone I’ve ever worked with.”

  “Well, you’ve worked with me,” she said just as quietly, moving closer, her eyes on his face. “And I have to say, I don’t see it.”

  “Are you forgetting what landed me here in the first place?”

  “Maybe you’ve changed.”

  He stared at her, almost believing that. He hadn’t realized there was anything wrong with his life before. Living for work had been all that mattered. Living for his patients.

  But since he’d come here…

  “You’re the most compassionate man I’ve ever met,” she whispered, putting her hand on his arm. “You’re warm and giving, and—”

  The infant in his arms let out one sharp howl, his eyes narrowed right on them. Then he opened his mouth, looking for all the world like a baby bird.

  Faith laughed, and so did Luke, but his smile faded when he took a good long look at her. She was pale, and when she pushed a strand of hair from her face, her fingers shook slightly. With a frown, he reached out, stroked her jaw, and found her skin damp and clammy. “You okay?”

  “Sure.” But her smile wobbled and she didn’t meet his eyes this time. “Just a long day.”

  Gently he bounced the baby, who was now crying, trying to soothe him as he kept his concentration on Faith. “After a long day, you yawn. You don’t look like you’re going to pass out.” He stood up. “Sit down. Sit down,” he repeated firmly when she weaved, and nudged her into the chair. “Faith—”

  “It’s probably just that stupid viral thing again,” she said, leaning her head back, closing her eyes.

  “When was the last time you had a physical?”

  Her mouth tightened.

  “Quite a while, huh?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re run down and something is off. Let me take a blood test.”

  “No.”

  “Faith—”

  She curled up in the chair. “You want to be a good doctor? Then go take care of Ally while I catch five.”

  * * *

  THE NEXT NIGHT FAITH was actually taking it easy. She wore sweat bottoms, a tank top and her beloved bunny slippers, and sat in front of the television doing as she so rarely did—nothing.

  She’d done her accounting, and had shocked herself by being able to pay a few more bills than she’d expected. She’d placed her order for supplies and she’d gone over staff scheduling.

  She was, in short, unaccustomedly caught up. At first, she hadn’t known what to do with herself, but she’d figured it out soon enough between a bowl of homemade caramelized popcorn and the channel changer.

  When the knock came at her door, she nearly leaped out of her skin in surprise. An emergency? No, if it was a clinic emergency, they’d be knocking downstairs, not on her door up here.

  Now if she’d ordered that Chinese food she’d wanted…

  Padding to the door, wishing she hadn’t left her handy dandy baseball bat downstairs, she squinted through the window on the door.

  That unbearably familiar shadow spoke for itself. So did the way her insides tingled and her nipples hardened.

  Oh God, he’d finally come for that wild, unencumbered, animal sex she’d promised him! At just the thought, her thighs quivered. Damn, when would she learn? She needed to lounge around in silk and lace, not torn cotton.

  A single soft, decisive knock sounded. “You going to let me in?”

  Was she? A flash of them fulfilling her fantasies came to mind; both of them naked by moonlight, limbs tangled, rolling across her bed, breathless and hungry, devouring each other.

  Oh yeah, she was going to let him in. She was going to let him—

  “Open the door, Faith.”

  Yes, open the door, Faith. It took her a moment, mostly because her hands had gone a little slippery at the thought of him naked and willing, but she managed, probably with a far too needy expression on her face because he took one look at her and went utterly still.

  Oh yeah, way to go, sexy momma. She patted her hair, which she had clipped up even though most of it had fallen back out. She tugged up the low-slung sweats that kept slipping, tugged down the thin tank top she’d washed so many times the pink had faded to light gray. “I’m sorry, I—”

  “Stop.” He put a hand on her arm to stop her fussing, then looked into her eyes. “You’re so beautiful, Faith. I keep forgetting just how beautiful, then I see you and you take my breath.”

  By some miracle, she drew in some air. She might have laughed, but he wasn’t laughing. Nope, his eyes were hot, hot, hot, and all that air she’d just dragged in got caught in her throat. “I—I didn’t know you saw me that way.”

  “Then you’re not paying attention.”

  “Luke—”

  “Are you forgetting what it’s like when we kiss?”

  “Um…no.”

  “Good. Remember that, okay?”

  Now she realized he was holding something behind his hands, looking at her…as if she was one of his patients.

  “Let’s sit down,” he suggested. “What are you watching?”

  He’d never taken an interest in anything as mundane as television, never. He’d certainly never been so…sweet. Narrowing her eyes, she held her ground. “Why are you suddenly using your best bedside manner on me?”

  “What are you talking about? I’m always this charming.”

  When she just looked at him, he sighed. “Okay, truth…” He pulled his hands from behind his back. In them was a blood kit.

  “No—”

  “Yes.” He slipped one of his big, warm hands in hers. “There’s nothing to be afraid of, I’m actually really good at drawing blood—”

  “I’m not afraid of a needle.”

  “Well, good, because I suspect you’ve got a problem with your blood sugar.”

  “I do not!”

  “Look, Faith, humor me, okay? I know you think you’ve got that lingering flu virus—”

  “I do—”

  “But I think it’s something else, and you can’t just keep ignoring it, it’s not safe.”

  What wasn’t safe was how she’d actually thought he’d come here for another reason entirely, which was really humiliating when she dwelled on it, which of course she was. “I’ll worry about myself.”

  “But that’s silly. I’m right here and perfectly capable of getting those answers we need. We just get a little sample—”

  She made an involuntary noise of angst and put her arms behind her back.

  “It’s just a finger prick.”

  What she really wanted was for him to vanish, to leave her alone with her fattening caramel popcorn and television set and overactive hormones, leave her alone to her very busy life which didn’t have the room for a man. But before she could say so, he had her arm extended and resting on his thigh as he swabbed her finger with an alcohol pad.

  “Okay, I lied. I don’t like needles,” she said, feeling absurdly nervous.

  “Really,” he said dryly.

  Her heart was pounding, her palms sweaty. “Aren’t you supposed to be distracting me?”

  “If you’re good, I’ll give you a lollipop.”

  She tried not to tense. “You have a lollipop?”

  “Well, no…” He flashed a grin. “Okay, pick another prize. Anything.”

  You, she thought inanely. I pick you.

  “Can’t think of anything?” He stroked her arm. “I’ve gotta admit, I’m a little surprised, Faith. You always seem to know exactly what you want. Don’t hold your breath… Relax, just a small pok
e—”

  “Ouch!” she yelped, but she didn’t really mean it, it was more the anticipation that startled her than the actual pain. He was, as he’d promised, good at it.

  She had a feeling he was good at everything he set his mind to. He was intent on what he was doing now, squeezing a drop of blood from her finger—

  “Ouch!” she complained again.

  “Big baby.”

  “I am not, I—”

  “Shh.” Head bent to his task, he carefully bandaged her finger, then worked the kit to get her blood sugar count.

  If he turned out to be right, and she was hypo-or hyperglycemic, it was going to be more than a little embarrassing. Here she was, a health professional, ignoring her own health.

  But of course he was wrong. She just was overly susceptible to the flu, she—

  With a sweet gentleness that made her feel weaker than the needle had, he lifted her finger to his lips. “All better?” he murmured silkily, and she melted. Might have melted right into his lap if his kit hadn’t suddenly beeped into the air, startling her.

  He looked at the little machine and all sexy playfulness left his face as he let out a low, long whistle. “I suppose you’re going to tell me it’s the flu, not that caramel popcorn that sent your blood sugar rocketing to twice the normal count, right?”

  CHAPTER 8

  THE NEXT DAY Luke was still thinking about it. He’d come to care for Faith, more than he expected, and damn it, he worried. He worried the same as he worried about any patient.

  Well, maybe not exactly the same.

  She came to the lab at the hospital to get full blood work done. She was classified as borderline diabetic, which she could control by diet if she chose. She did.

  He knew how Faith felt about natural healing, knew she’d follow proper diet, get the proper exercise and that she would keep it all under control. Logically, he really did know this. She was smart, she was healthy, she knew what to do.

  Which made the intense fear he felt for her way over the top. The urge to beat his chest and act all Neanderthal, insisting she let him help her, was horrifyingly strong.

  Somehow he managed to rein it in, though when he went to her house the next night, she didn’t answer the door. Fine. A clear message. He could deal with that.

  On his next Saturday at the clinic, she played it cool.

  So did he. He’d been e-mailing her all sorts of info regarding diabetes, which she’d been politely thanking him for. She wrote that she and Shelby had figured out a dietary plan to properly control her blood sugar and that she was fine, thank you very much, and that she’d see him next Saturday.

  No mention of hot sex, damn it.

  Burying himself in his own hospital work helped. After one particularly brutal shift, he just happened to walk by the nurses’ station, as he did a thousand times a day. Since he worked regularly with several of the women standing there, he nodded and smiled.

  All talking abruptly stopped and they just stared at him.

  He looked down to make sure he hadn’t violated any social niceties, but his zipper was up and every button was in its place. “Uh…problem?”

  One of the nurses let out a startled laugh. “No, you’re…fine. I think.”

  “It’s just that we’ve never seen you smile at us,” said a dark-haired nurse whose name he was ashamed to admit he couldn’t remember.

  Had he truly never smiled at a nurse? Not once? “Are you sure?”

  “Quite,” said the third nurse, a tall, thin blond woman who didn’t look so eager to forgive as the first two.

  He shook his head. “I must have—”

  “Never,” she said, and when he still was unconvinced, she lifted a challenging brow. “Okay, then…what’s my name?”

  He hated that he didn’t know, hated even worse that smug see-told-ya smile she sent him. Damn, he really was a jerk.

  The first nurse seemed to feel a little sorry for him. “I’ve been wanting to tell you, I think that clinic is really working for you. You seem to be…softening.”

  Softening? Luke started to frown but she leaned over the counter and patted his arm. “No, that’s a good thing! Keep it up.”

  “And the smiling, too,” the dark-haired one added. “That’s a nice touch.”

  Then they waved at him, and duly dismissed, he started walking again.

  This time as he went, he kept his gaze up, instead of on the files in his hands. The oddest thing happened—people made eye contact back. Most even smiled.

  But it was the smile of one certain sexy redhead he couldn’t stop thinking about as he walked outside toward his car. He’d been giving a lot of thought to her offer, the one that involved both of them being naked and panting, and wondered how it was they’d never actually gotten there. Women in labor and blood sugar problems and life in general kept getting in their way.

  He wanted to rectify that. He was so intent on figuring out how to do just that, he figured he was dreaming when he saw her in the parking lot of the hospital, standing next to her car, kicking her back tire.

  Her flat tire.

  “Take that!” She kicked it again, then swore and hopped up and down in a circle, holding her toe.

  Moving in, he reached for her arm to help balance her. “Did you break it?”

  At the sight of him she let out a squeal, lost the rest of her balance, and fell against him.

  Which really worked out in his favor, because once again he ended up with a curvy, warm armful of woman. Taking full advantage of that, he ran his hands down her slim spine, buried his face in her wild hair and closed his eyes, pretending she meant to be against him like this.

  “Sorry,” she murmured.

  Because he couldn’t help himself—she smelled so good, felt so good—he danced his mouth along the column of her throat. “Why?”

  “Because—” This ended in a little whimper when he opened his mouth and took a little bite out of her. Her hands fisted in the front of his shirt and she arched a little closer, letting out a soft, muffled groan when he did it again. “Luke—”

  “You taste so good,” he murmured. “So damn good. I’ve been thinking about this for weeks.” And he let his mouth slide up, over her jaw to the very corner of her lips.

  “Oh my,” said a female voice behind them. “Excuse us…”

  Luke looked up at the women, the nurses he’d just spoken to inside. They stood there, jaws open. “Good evening,” he said.

  “Evening,” they said together, still staring. Then, as if they suddenly realized they were doing so, they jumped, looked at each other, and hurried off.

  “My God, he’s got a girlfriend,” came back in an amazed whisper on the night air. “Maybe he is a nice guy.”

  Luke laughed softly and shook his head. “I really did have a PR problem.”

  “Did?”

  He looked down into Faith’s eyes. “Before you.”

  She wore a lacy, cream-colored tank top and a long, flowing, colorful gauzy skirt that flew around her ankles when she moved. He wanted to gobble her up whole. “Never mind,” he said, hugging her. “How did you know what time I’d get off?”

  “I didn’t. I…came to see a patient.”

  Oh. Oh, yeah. Her universe didn’t revolve around him. He laughed at himself—what else could he do?—and backed up a step, letting his hands fall to his sides. “Of course.”

  She bit her lower lip, looking so pretty by moonlight he had to put his hands in his pockets so they’d behave. “But seeing you is a bonus,” she said.

  “Right.”

  Her mouth curved, her eyes lit with teasing, which normally he’d enjoy since there wasn’t a single person in his life who ever teased him—except for his brother Matt, but that was closer to torture than teasing.

  “It is,” she insisted. “The best bonus of the night, right after that sugar-free brownie I consumed for lunch.”

  “You’ve been avoiding me like the plague since I made you check your blood sugar, so don�
�t talk to me of bonuses. And you’d better have made sure it was really sugar-free—sometimes those labels—”

  “It was,” she insisted. “And maybe I’ve been avoiding you because of embarrassment.”

  “Embarrassment? Why?”

  With the teasing light out of her eyes now, she lifted her hands and let out a disparaging sound. “I’m supposedly a health professional. How does it look that I missed keeping track of my own health? I’m borderline diabetic for God’s sake, and brushed it off as the flu.”

  “You’ve been busy.”

  “And stupid. Stupid,” she repeated when he opened his mouth to deny it. “And at the very least I owe you a thank-you.”

  “That, I’ll take,” he decided, his body quivering to hopeful attention when she stepped close and slid her hands up his chest. When she leaned in for a kiss, he wrapped her in his arms and prepared to be transported to heaven.

  But after a short, sweet peck she pulled back.

  “That’s it?” he asked.

  She let out a laugh at his disappointment. “I thought that was a very nice thank-you.”

  “Truthfully? I was hoping for nicer.” He once again slipped his hands into his pockets. It was that or trace them over every inch of her. “So what happened to your tire?”

  “I have no idea. I’ll have to call AAA since I don’t have a spare.”

  He pulled his cell phone from his pocket and handed it to her, listening as she argued with the dispatcher over the wait time.

  “Have them tow it to your mechanic’s place,” he said. “I’ll take you home.”

  When she handed him the phone back, he linked their fingers. “Let’s have dinner first.” He nodded to the café across the street. “The food’s guaranteed to clog your arteries, but it’s delicious.”

  She looked at the café, then at him. “Dinner?”

  “Dinner.”

  “As in…a date?”

  Now he had to laugh. “Pretty tame given the sort of relationship you once proposed to me, don’t you think?”

  Now her green, green eyes darkened. “That other relationship that I proposed… I thought maybe we should just forget it.”