Crossing The Line. Lori Wilde

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СКАЧАТЬ the stranger continued. “I apologize for disturbing your drill.”

      Admitting a fault and apologizing for it? From an alpha guy like this? She didn’t buy it. He was trying too hard to make her like him.

      Why?

      “Who are you?” She cocked her head upward and crossed her arms over her chest again.

      “Dante,” a voice from behind Elle boomed. “You made it!”

      Elle didn’t have to turn to see who was speaking. She’d spent five years of her life listening to that voice. A voice that had made promises he never intended on keeping.

      The voice of her rat bastard ex-husband, Mark Lawson.

      Elle gritted her teeth and tried to tamp down her resentment. A year ago, just when she thought Mark was finally ready to start a family, after she had put him through medical school, worked double shifts while he completed his residency in psychiatrics, he had dumped her for one of his patients. A twenty-one-year-old actress named Cassandra Roberts.

      Cassandra, bless her little heart, couldn’t act her way out of a paper bag. But she was blond, beautiful and one shade above anorexic. Plus, her daddy was a big-wheel movie exec, and Mark had always been enamored of money, glitz and glamour.

      Mark moved around Elle as if she didn’t exist and clasped the stranger in a bear hug. “Dante, man, you look great.”

      So this was Dante Nash. Mark’s college roommate, and the newest surgeon to join the staff of Confidential Rejuvenations.

      Just her luck.

      Back when she and Mark were married and he would occasionally get drunk and chatty, he would reminisce about his college days at the University of Texas. During those times he’d tell of the antics he and Dante had gotten into, recounting tales of their prowess on the football field.

      And in the bedrooms of sorority houses.

      According to Mark, Dante was something of a player. This explained the suit and the haircut and the Rolex and the brooding charm. Elle lumped him into the same category with her ex-husband.

      Untrustworthy skeeve.

      In her book, anyone who was a friend of Mark’s was an enemy of hers.

      Now, Elle, chided her good-girl side. You only diminish yourself when you think like that. Not giving Mark power over your feelings is the best revenge. No need cluttering your mind with negativity.

      Maybe so, but it didn’t seem as satisfying as the fantasy of slashing the tires on Mark’s new Mercedes. She was still driving the compact Chevy she’d bought after she graduated from college ten long years ago.

      Thank heavens for her two best friends, Vanessa and Julie. They also worked with her at Confidential Rejuvenations. In an attempt to deal with the stress of their professions and the secrets that the job forced them to keep, they’d formed an after-hours club where they could get together and vent. Sharing their hopes, dreams and fantasies with one another.

      Her friends had been there for Elle during her divorce and they understood her even when her own family didn’t. The group was meeting on Wednesday night and she couldn’t wait to tell them what had happened in the E.D. with the new surgeon.

      Her family thought she was crazy for staying at Confidential Rejuvenations, considering she had to see Mark on a daily basis. She would admit it was particularly difficult when Cassandra Roberts showed up, dangling adoringly from his arm.

      But this was the best job Elle had ever had. For one thing, she was extremely well paid. She couldn’t go anywhere else and make the same kind of money. Plus, she was given lots of autonomy and she adored the staff. The VIP patients could be challenging at times, simply because they were VIPs, but Elle enjoyed taking care of people. Being a caregiver, however, had its drawbacks. For instance it prevented you from making a voodoo doll of your ex-husband and sticking sharp pointy things through it.

      “Come on, let me show you to your office,” Mark said. Without even bothering to introduce the new doctor to the staff, he slung an arm around Dante’s shoulder and propelled him toward the door.

      Typical Mark. No thought for anyone except himself.

      As her ex-husband dragged the new physician past her, Dante’s elbow accidentally grazed Elle’s breast.

      Sharply she inhaled as the shock of the unintentional contact spread out through her nerve endings.

      She saw Dante glance down at her from his imposing height. He had to be at least six-three, almost a foot taller than her own five feet four.

      For the briefest of moments, their gazes wed.

      His eyes glinted as if he knew exactly what she looked like stark naked and he approved. The intimate suggestion in his stare caused Elle’s knees to weaken.

      Nature had packaged him in a hard, muscular frame. He was meaty but not bulky. At once both supple and strong. His hands were big and square, his fingernails manicured. Nothing odd there; lots of surgeons babied their hands. Then she spied something that completely rattled her. There, at his wrist, from underneath his Rolex, curled the hint of dark-blue ink.

      A tattoo.

      Talk about out of place.

      Who was he really?

      The look that passed between them was succinct and yet weighted with a meaning she couldn’t begin to unravel.

      She felt heavy and light at the same time.

      Elle’s cheeks tingled. She was blushing!

      God, how embarrassing.

      What was happening to her? One minute she’d been minding her own business, doing her job as the nursing director of the E.D. and the next minute this sharp-dressed, broad-shouldered stranger had her locked in some emotional chokehold.

      She didn’t trust a man who could make her feel so breathless with just a look.

      Not one little bit.

       Chapter 2

      AS MARK ESCORTED HIM from the emergency department, Dante couldn’t help swiveling his head for one last look at the feisty red-haired nurse.

      She glowered, hands on her hips, watching him go.

      Her eyes narrowed. The woman didn’t like him. But could he blame her? He’d messed up her disaster drill, and in the process he could very easily have blown his cover. He’d already made her suspicious.

      Not good.

      Dante could tell from the way she’d scolded him that she thought he was a bulldozing hothead, and he’d given her plenty of reasons to draw that conclusion. He’d have to be more careful. He threw her the most disarming grin he could conjure before turning his attention back to Mark. Behind him, he heard her snort indignantly. He wasn’t winning her over that easily.

      “The medical staff is waiting СКАЧАТЬ