Hot Docs On Call: His Christmas Wish. Susan Carlisle

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      “Internal medicine, not that you don’t already know that seeing as he works with me,” McKenzie pointed out, her gaze eating up Lance as he announced the first act, taking in the fluid movements of his body, the smile on his face, the dimples in his cheeks, the twinkle in his blue eyes. He looked like a movie star. He was a great doctor. What else could he do?

      McKenzie gulped back the knot forming in her throat as her imagination took flight on the possibilities.

      “Yeah, well, Christmas is all about getting a fabulous package, right? That man, right there, is a fabulous package,” Cecilia teased, nudging McKenzie’s arm.

      Snorting, she rolled her eyes and hoped her friend couldn’t see the heat flooding her cheeks. “You have a one-track mind.”

      “So do you and it’s not usually on men. You still competing in that marathon in the morning?”

      Running. It’s what McKenzie did. She ran. Every morning. It’s how she cleared her head. How she brought in each new day. How she stayed one step ahead of any guy who tried to wiggle his way into her heart or bedroom. She ran.

      Literally and figuratively.

      Not that she was a virgin. She wasn’t. Her innocence had run away a long time ago, too. It was just that she was choosy about who she let touch her body.

      Which brought her right back to the man onstage wooing the audience with his smile and charm.

      He wanted to touch her body. Not that he’d said those exact words out loud. It was in how he looked at her.

      He looked at her as if he couldn’t bear not to look at her.

      As if he’d like to tear her clothes off and show her why she should hang up her running shoes for however long the chemistry held out.

      She gulped again and forced more of those possibilities out of her mind.

      Loud applause sounded around the dinner theater as the show moved from one song to the next. Before long, Lance introduced a trio of females who sang a song about getting nothing for Christmas. At the end of the trio’s set, groups of carolers made their way around the room, singing near the tables rather than on the stage. Lance remained just off to the side of the stage and was directly in her line of vision. His gaze met hers and he grinned. Great, he’d caught her staring at him. Then again, wasn’t that why he’d invited her to attend?

      Because he wanted her to watch him.

      She winced. Doggone her because seeing him outside the clinic made her watch. She didn’t want to watch him…only she did want to watch. And to feel. And to…

      Cecilia elbowed her, and not with the gentle nudge as before.

      “Ouch.” She rubbed her arm and frowned. No way could her friend have read her mind and even if she had, she was pretty sure Cecilia would be high-fiving her and not dishing out reprimands.

      “Just wanted to make sure you were seeing what I’m seeing, because he can’t seem to keep his gaze off you.”

      “I’m not blind,” she countered, still massaging the sore spot on her arm.

      “After seeing the infamous Dr. Spencer I’ve heard you talk about so much and that I know you’ve said no to, I’m beginning to think perhaps you are. How long has it been since you last saw an optometrist?”

      “Ha-ha, you’re so funny. There’s more to life than good looks.” Okay, so Lance was hot and she’d admit her body responded to that hotness. Always had. But even if there wasn’t her whole-won’t-date-a-coworker rule, she enjoyed her working relationship with Lance. If they dated, she didn’t fool herself for one second that they wouldn’t end up in bed. Then what? They weren’t going to be having a happily ever after. Work would become awkward. Did she really want to deal with all that just for a few weeks of sexy Lance this Christmas season?

      Raking her gaze over him, she could almost convince herself it would be worth it…almost.

      “Yeah,” Cecilia agreed. “There’s that voice that I could listen to all night long. Sign me up for a hefty dose of some of that.”

      “Just because he has this crowd, and you, eating out of the palm of his hand, it doesn’t mean I should go out with him.”

      Cecilia’s face lit with amusement. “What about you? Are you included in those he has eating out of the palm of his hand? Because I’m thinking you should. Literally.”

      She didn’t. She wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

      “I was just being a smart aleck,” McKenzie countered.

      “Yeah, I know.” Cecilia ran her gaze over where Lance caroled, dressed up in old-fashioned garb and top hat. “But I’m serious. He could be the one.”

      Letting out a long breath, McKenzie shook her head. “You know better than that.”

      Cecilia had been her best friend since kindergarten. She’d been with McKenzie through all life’s ups and downs. Now McKenzie was a family doctor in a small group of physicians and Cecilia was a hairdresser at Bev’s Beauty Boutique. They’d both grown up to be what they’d always wanted to be. Except Cecilia was still waiting for her Prince Charming to come along and sweep her off her feet and across the threshold. Silly girl.

      McKenzie was a big girl and could walk across that threshold all by herself. No Prince Charming needed or wanted.

      Her gaze shifted from her friend and back to Lance. He was watching her. She’d swear he’d smiled at her. Maybe it was just the sparkle in his eyes that made her think that. Maybe.

      Or maybe it went back to what she’d been thinking moments before about how the man looked at her. He made her want to let him look. It made her feel uncomfortable. Very uncomfortable.

      Which was probably part of why she kept telling him no.

      Only she was here tonight.

      Why?

      “I think you should go for it.”

      She blinked at Cecilia. “It?”

      “Dr. Spencer, aka the guy who has you so distracted.”

      “I have to work with the man. Going for ‘it’ would only complicate our work relationship.”

      “His asking you out hasn’t already complicated things?”

      “Not really, because I haven’t let it.” She hadn’t. She’d made a point to keep their banter light, not act any differently around him.

      If she’d had to make a point, did that mean the dynamics between them had already changed?

      “Meaning?”

      “Meaning I don’t take him seriously.”

      “He’s looking at you as if he’s serious.”

      There was that look. That heavenly making-her-want-to-squirm-in-her-chair look.

      “Maybe.”

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