Dr. Desirable. Kristi Gold

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СКАЧАТЬ ahead,” she said. “I’ll catch the next one.”

      Rainey’s smile wasn’t nearly as effective as the patent Kempner grin. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

      “I’m sure.” She brought her attention back to Nick and impatiently tapped her foot. “Yes?”

      “He just beats all now, don’t he?” Nick drawled.

      “Why, Dr. Kempner, with that accent, one might think your moniker should be Billy Bob.”

      “Guess my roots are showing.”

      “Roots?”

      “Born-and-bred Texan.”

      She sent a pointed look at his feet. Cross trainers, not cowhide. Big cross trainers. Big feet. She met his steady gaze. “Oh, those kind of roots.”

      “Yeah. Not to be mistaken for Rainey’s roots. The guy really needs to restock on hair dye.”

      Michelle tried not to smile but couldn’t quite get a grip on her grin. “You really don’t like him much, do you?”

      “Ah, now, does it show?”

      “Just a bit.” She leaned back against the wall separating the two elevators, the sudden awkward silence broken only by the operator paging someone on staff. “I really have to get back, so if you can just tell me what you need.” Boy, was that leaving herself wide open for all sorts of possibilities.

      He zeroed in on her eyes. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t. “I owe you an apology for questioning your expertise. And a belated one for my faux pas at Brooke and Jared’s wedding.”

      Apology? She certainly didn’t expect that. “Apology accepted, Dr. Kempner. Okay?”

      He cocked one shoulder against the wall and faced her. He smelled good, looked even better. “It’s Nick, and it’s not okay. I got a bit out of hand.”

      Her reaction to him was getting out of hand. Way out of hand. Her pulse jumped like a cat on a hot grill. She’d been annoyed by his failure to make the meeting on time, and now she was annoyed at herself for finding him attractive. Would she ever learn? “Let’s call a truce.”

      “Good idea. After all, we’re in this together.”

      Now why did that sound so darned intimate? “Yes, I guess you’re right.”

      He pointed at her chest. “Do you need any help with that?”

      “Beg pardon?”

      “Your computer.”

      She glanced down. Like a fool, she’d forgotten she had the thing in a choke hold. “I can manage.”

      Michelle pushed away from the wall, shoved the case’s strap over her shoulder and thumbed the elevator’s down button. She turned to find him standing not more than a foot away. Really, really close. So close she could run her hand along the ridge of his strong jaw, trace the outline of his lips, the cleft in his chin…

      Thankfully the elevator doors sighed open, providing her with a much-needed escape. She backed into the car while Nick Kempner just stood there with hands hidden in the pockets of his starched lab coat, an insolent lock of dark hair falling over his forehead, the V-neck of his blue scrubs revealing a pleasant glimpse of dark chest hair.

      He tipped an imaginary hat. “You have a good day now, Ms. Lewis.”

      Shifting the strap to the other shoulder, she punched the Open Door button. “Don’t you want to go down with me?”

      His grin made another appearance, slow as sunrise, and just as bright. “Oh, yeah, that sounds real tempting. But I’m needed up on the med-surg floor for a consult. Maybe later?”

      Michelle presumed her face resembled a hothouse tomato. And she’d mistakenly thought her foot was too big to fit in her mouth. Her hand dropped from the button, the doors slowly closed and her last image of Nick Kempner branded her brain—his hand raised in a wave, his smile full of mischief, his dark eyes drilling holes in her well-honed reserve.

      Of all the seductive, sexy surgeons, Dr. Nick Kempner was now at the top of Michelle’s list. And a small list it was.

      The hot August sun beat a large swath across the backyard barbecue, indicating the extreme Texas summer was far from over. A trickle of sweat streamed down Michelle’s chest, pooling where the bathing suit top ended below her breasts. She swiped a hand over her forehead, pushing away the damp, rebellious hairs that wouldn’t fit into her ponytail. Idiot fringe, her mother called them. Fitting, considering what an idiot she’d been to let Nick Kempner get to her. He was still getting to her, even after two days. Still invading her thoughts, and sometimes her dreams.

      She scanned the crowd of partygoers positioned in random groups spread across Jared and Brooke’s manicured lawn. Nick wasn’t here, as far as she could tell, although she’d been told he was invited. Maybe he was engaged in immoral combat in the pool house with a gullible nurse. That thought annoyingly irritated Michelle.

      She sank back in the padded lawn chair and considered returning to the pool. But the pool was now crowded with a stew of kids too thick to stir. Nope, she’d just sit here sipping her lemonade and think about work.

      She thought about Nick Kempner instead. Someone should bring her the discarded baseball bat so she could pound him out of her brain. Plenty of docs around to save her from a subdural hematoma.

      Her brother-in-law moved forward from one block of people, clutching her sister’s hand. Michelle tamped down the wistful feelings when she noted the way Jared looked at Brooke, as if she were goddess of the universe. Brooke used to look at Michelle that way, with sibling adoration, as though big sister Michelle had scattered the stars. Not anymore.

      But what could she expect? Brooke had her own life with Jared. Michelle’s job and seeing to her parents’ needs didn’t allow her much time to spend with Brooke. They were both adults now, living adult lives, not giggling kids practically attached at the hip. Brooke didn’t really need Michelle as much anymore. As it should be.

      Then why did Michelle suddenly feel like a fallen hero?

      Jared strolled to the redwood picnic table, hopped onto the bottom bench and let go a loud whistle. “Listen up, folks. We have an announcement to make.”

      Michelle rose from her seat, securing the beach towel around her waist as she moved forward with the rest of the crowd. Jared sent Brooke another adoring look before turning back to the curious audience.

      “As you all know,” he began, “I’ve been on leave since my accident. With the help of my beautiful and talented physical therapist wife, I’m finally ready to go back to surgery.”

      Applause rang out. Michelle sought Brooke’s gaze and gave her a thumbs-up. Brooke responded with a radiant grin before giving her smile back to Jared.

      Jared reached behind him and tapped his beer bottle on the table to garner the murmuring masses’ attention. “Although that’s good news, I’ve got even better news. During the course of my wife’s expert therapy, something else happened.”

      Holding СКАЧАТЬ