Sizzling Nights With Dr Off-Limits. Janice Lynn

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      He’d still hesitated.

      Because of the woman walking away from him.

      Just as she’d walked away five years ago.

      Not that he hadn’t deserved her leaving. He had. He just hadn’t thought she’d walk away from their marriage, no matter how bad things got.

      He’d been wrong.

      But Emily had been right to leave. She’d been so unhappy, crying more often than not. Marriage to him had rapidly done that to her. He’d thought she was depressed, needing counseling, but when he’d suggested as much, she’d burst into tears. That night had been the night she’d packed her things.

      His wife leaving him had hurt like hell, but he had gotten over it, had moved on and made a good life for himself.

      But seeing Emily again had been tough. More so than he’d been prepared for. He wasn’t sure quite what he’d expected of her, but the cold shoulder he got every time he walked onto the unit just had to go.

      No, he didn’t expect her to do cartwheels that he’d joined the hospital where she worked, but he was a good pediatric neurosurgeon and was now medical director of her unit. What had happened between them was a long time ago, water under the bridge, they’d both moved on. He was happy. She was happy. There was no need for awkwardness between them.

      That was why he’d bid on her date.

      Mostly.

      As Emily’s bid had proceeded, he’d grown more and more annoyed with the man she’d arrived with.

      The man she’d been comparing him unfavorably to.

      The man who’d acted as if bidding on Emily was an inconvenience.

      Emily was too good for the guy.

      He supposed it could be argued that she’d been too good for Lucas, too. She probably had been.

      Besides, the guy must make her happy, since she’d defended him to her friend. Something Lucas had failed miserably at.

      Regardless, the man’s reticence to bid had irked. As he’d watched her on stage, the insecurities that only someone who knew her as well as he had would recognize flittering across her lovely face had brought out something protective.

      So much so that he’d placed a bid. Then another, then, when her foolish date had hem-hawed on his last bid, Lucas had more than doubled the amount.

      Probably not his brightest move.

      But the guy needed to be hit over the head with the news that a date with Emily was worth every penny.

      The realization hit Lucas hard.

      He watched her retreating backside head out of the ballroom, appreciated the curvy lines of her body beneath the sleek lines of her formfitting emerald dress. Once upon a time, he’d slept with her backside snuggled into the curve of his body, spooned so close every breath he’d taken had been filled with her. Now he didn’t have the right to even stroke his finger over the silky smooth skin of her cheek.

      Lucas swallowed. Where had that thought come from?

      He hadn’t bid on Emily because he wanted a date with her. He didn’t. He only wanted a chance to clear the air between them.

      Maybe he’d been led to Children’s so he could set the past right, could mend his relationship with Emily to where they could be friends, or at least amicable coworkers.

      * * *

      When Emily joined Richard at their table, his expression was sour and she cringed on the inside.

      “Who was that man?”

      She supposed she should have been prepared for his question, but it still caught her off guard. She’d run back to Richard to escape Lucas, not talk about him.

      She bent, kissed her date’s cheek. “No one, dear.”

      She wasn’t lying. Lucas was no one. No one of any importance. Not anymore. Not ever again.

      “He’s interested in you.” Richard didn’t sound pleased. No wonder. Lucas had just upstaged him and their colleagues would be curious.

      She sat in her chair and scooted closer to him. “He’s new at the hospital and just drawing attention to himself.”

      Richard didn’t look convinced. What he looked was annoyed. “By paying that crazy amount for you? Why would he do that?”

      The money meant nothing to Lucas. He had paid too much. But did Richard really have to sound as if he found the idea that a date with her could possibly be worth so much as unfathomable? Shouldn’t he find time with her priceless?

      “It was for charity,” she reminded him, irritated by his insensitivity to how she might take his question. “You said so yourself.”

      His expression pinched, Richard straightened the napkin in his lap. “I saw him talking to you a few minutes ago. Should I be worried?”

      She laughed. “No. His type appalls me. Besides, all the bachelorettes took photos with the winning bidders. What did you want me to do? Refuse?”

      Not that she wouldn’t have liked to have done just that.

      Richard’s eyes narrowed beneath his wire-framed glasses. “You labeled his type in those few short minutes?”

      “I’ve encountered him before.” Ha. Wasn’t that the understatement of the century? “He’s a pediatric neurosurgeon in the department where I work. Actually, he’s the new head of the department. He started about a month ago.”

      Twenty-two days.

      Not that she was counting.

      Emily shot a nervous glance toward where Lucas still stood with Meghan. They were both looking her way. Seeing her looking at them, Lucas lifted his glass in salute.

      The jerk.

      Emily rolled her eyes, grabbed Richard’s hand and moved her chair to where her back was completely to Lucas. She didn’t want him anywhere near her line of vision. She just wanted to forget he was even there.

      Which later proved impossible even after Richard had quit talking about Lucas. He’d finally relaxed, quit suggesting she’d encouraged Lucas, and they were enjoying a slow dance. The emcee’s boisterous voice cut in.

      “Folks, it’s time for our bachelors and bachelorettes to share a dance with their lucky high bidders.” Applause went through the ballroom, but Emily didn’t clap. Instead, she clung to Richard.

      “Did you know they were going to do that?” He sounded aggravated, as if she’d somehow arranged the dance.

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