Doctor's Mile-High Fling. Tina Beckett

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СКАЧАТЬ realized there was no mall. No fashion boutiques. Just simple, hard-working folks. She’d quickly felt trapped—had run back home before six months had been up. He’d do well to keep that in mind before he went and did something stupid.

      Like offer to eat lunch with Molly and show her the sights? Who knew how long she’d even stick around?

      She was terrified of flying. Her mother was afraid of flying. If she had a dog, a cat, or a chipmunk, it would probably be petrified as well. It didn’t bode well for someone who’d be medevacing patients on a regular basis. Even as he told himself distance was his friend in a situation like this, he’d already committed himself as tour guide for a day.

      Damn. No backing out now. But after lunch and a quick trip around the island, he’d put his pro-distance plan into motion.

      Over a basket of crab cakes and fries, Molly grilled him about the islands. She already knew the obvious stuff, like the reality show dealing with the perils of deep-sea fishing that was filmed here, and that the island chain separated the Bering Sea from the Northern Pacific. But she seemed fascinated by some of the quirkier details. Dutch Harbor and Unalaska were essentially the same community separated by a short bridge, but the arguments about which name was correct continued unabated. Both names had stuck. Dutch Harbor was used for the port and business sections, while Unalaska was where everyone lived when the workday was through.

      “So, if Aleutians comes from a native word for island, doesn’t that make it redundant to call them the Aleutian Islands?”

      He took a sip of his soda, then leaned back in his seat. “I guess it does.”

      “How long have you been flying this route?”

      “Seven years, but I grew up here.”

      “And you said my father helped train you?”

      Setting his drink back on the table, he nodded. “Yes. I already had my pilot’s license, but decided I wanted something with a little more oomph.”

      “Like Evel Knievel. I remember.” Her brows went up. “My mom never understood why my dad wanted to leave a relatively safe job as a commercial pilot in order to be a bush pilot.”

      He tensed, hoping she wasn’t going to ask him if Wayne had talked about his family. Because, while Wayne had loved his wife and daughter, he’d given serious thought to ending his marriage and moving away. His mentor’s misgivings had echoed his own. It had taken Blake two years from the time of Wayne’s death to realize Sharon’s attitude wasn’t going to change. After forcing him to leave one job, she’d ended up hating its replacement just as much, more so once they’d moved to his old house on the islands.

      The home where he’d been born and raised—given to him when his parents had retired and moved to Florida—had gone from a place of happy memories to a battle zone where no one had ever won. The happiness his parents had found with each other seemed to elude him. When Sharon had finally filed for divorce, he’d been secretly relieved.

      “The weather’s not always as bad as it was today.” No. Not always. Sometimes it was much worse.

      He motioned at her empty plate, ready to be done with this particular conversation. “If you’re finished, I can show you where the clinics—the two that are currently functioning, anyway—and the hotel are. Are you staying at the Grand Aleutian?”

      “No, I’m at the UniSea.”

      He’d expected her to spring for the pricier accommodations, although he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because it was what Sharon would have done. “I have a house here, but I can drop you off at the hotel.”

      “If I take the job, I may end up renting something.”

      If I take the job.

      Blake motioned for their check. “That flight didn’t scare you off?”

      “Maybe. We’ll see. A lot of it depends on whether or not there are enough patients to make it a wise use of funds. Alaska Regional agreed to partner with the clinic for a year. After that…who knows? There’s plenty of need in Anchorage, if not.” Her lips tightened. “Or in one of the other big cities in the lower forty-eight.”

      Big cities. Was that a prerequisite?

      When the waitress came with the bill, he waved off Molly’s attempt to pay. “I’ll turn it in for reimbursement. No sense in each of us filling out an expense report.”

      “Thanks. My turn next time.”

      Next time.

      Right. Like that was ever going to happen. He needed to bow out of this gig as soon as possible.

      But as she moved from the booth and stretched her slender frame, his resolve seemed to dry up—along with his mouth.

      The heavy jacket she’d shrugged out of while they were eating had done a thorough job of hiding her figure, as did the white lab coat she normally wore in the ER. But the creamy white sweater had no such problem. Soft and clingy, it skimmed over each and every curve all the way to the middle of her thighs, where dark jeans bridged the gap between the sweater and her knee-high leather boots.

      Hell, she was gorgeous.

      Maybe he should rethink this.

      Crazy. Allowing a flicker of attraction to dictate his actions could never end well.

      They moved outside, and Blake clicked the lock on the car he’d left at the airport.

      Molly hesitated before getting in. “I should have rented a car. I don’t expect you to be my taxi service while I’m here.”

      “The island’s not that big, so it’s no trouble. Once I drop you off at the hotel, though, I’ll need to head home and get some rest before the flight tomorrow. So if you’re looking to take in some of the night life, you’re on your own.”

      At least his mouth had finally got with the program.

      The last thing he wanted was to see another woman’s lip curl at what the island had to offer in that regard.

      “I’m an early riser, actually, so I think I’ll turn in after dinner.” She tilted her head back to glance at him. “Besides, I want to make sure I don’t miss my flight. The pilot didn’t seem all that inclined to wait around.”

      Several strands of hair slid across her cheek as she looked at him, exposing a delicate earlobe. It took more effort than he expected not to reach out and sift his fingers through the shiny locks to see if they were as soft and silky as they looked.

      “I’ll be there.” The temptation to touch her washed through him again. But before he could, she opened the car door and got inside.

      He climbed in as well, irritated by the repeated tugs of attraction. Being trapped inside the closed vehicle just made the situation worse. He’d been too busy during their flight to notice the delicate mixture of vanilla and clean sea spray that clung to her skin. Now the scent drifted toward him, making its way inside his head.

      Damn. Erasing that fragrance from his memory was going to be impossible. The image of sliding his nose along the naked СКАЧАТЬ