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“Well, now I know why your focus has been on that.”

He nodded. “I loved my grandfather. He led a simple, humble life I appreciated and one I wasn’t exposed to very often.”

He parked the truck and Vivian stepped outside and stared up at the night sky. She could see the stars without the light pollution from the city. It was beautiful. She could hear the gentle lapping of water against the shore. It reminded her of that Kentucky cabin and it made her heart skip a beat, remembering what had happened there.

Even though she hadn’t wanted anything more than a fling, that cabin in Kentucky was the place where she’d lost her heart. Where their six-month relationship had started. She’d never told him that, though; she’d kept that to herself. She couldn’t help but wonder when he’d bought this place, but she didn’t want to know the answer.

It would just remind her of the pain she’d caused him. Of the love she had never deserved to have.

“Feel like a marshmallow?” Reece asked, intruding in her thoughts.

Vivian chuckled, the silly question shaking away all those guilt-ridden thoughts. “How random. I can honestly say that I’ve never been asked that before. Are you offering me a marshmallow?”

Reece grinned. “I am. I was thinking about having a fire and roasting a couple.”

“Well, I’m going to pass on the marshmallow, but a fire sounds heavenly.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself, but you don’t know what you’re missing. The best thing in the word is a burnt marshmallow.”

Vivian laughed out loud. “I forgot about your affinity for well-done food.”

“Except steak. Can’t stand a dry steak.”

She took his hand as he led her out back to where his fire pit was. The lake was shimmering in the moonlight and there were fireflies dancing at the shoreline and through the low boughs of the pine needles.

Before her father had become obsessed with being a country music star there had been a few times when he took her fishing in the moonlight. It was one of those halcyon memories that she held dear and it hurt to think about it right now.

There was a crackling sound as Reece brought the fire to life. She turned and took a seat on one of the benches surrounding the fire pit. It was cushioned and had a high back, so she could lean against it.

Reece was crouched by the fire, feeding it kindling, his cowboy hat pushed back.

“It suits you, you know. Can’t remember if I told you that.”

“What does?” he asked.

“The hat. I never saw you wear one before. I like it. You look so mysterious.” Then she blushed, realizing what she’d said.

He smiled but didn’t look at her. “Not the scrub cap?”

“No, I didn’t say that. I like the scrub cap too. I always have.”

“Good, because the scrub cap is the preferred hat.”

“I know,” she whispered. “I haven’t been to the lake in ages.”

“You used to come to the lake?”

“Yes, with my father.” Then she cursed under her breath for mentioning her father. For letting him intrude on this moment. “He used to bring me here when I was very young. I haven’t been up here in a long time.”

“You don’t talk about your father.”

“Neither do you,” she whispered.

“True.” He stood up and took a seat beside her. “Your mother talks about him.”

“Does she?” Vivian’s spine stiffened and her stomach twisted in a knot. “What does she say?”

“She loved him and he left.”

“That’s pretty much it in a nutshell.” Vivian relaxed. “He broke her heart.”

“And what about your heart?” he asked, his voice soft and gentle.

“Yes. Mine too.” She choked back the emotion threatening to bubble up inside of her.

Why did he have to be so kind to her? She didn’t deserve his care and concern.

“How is your heart now?” he asked, prying a little too deeply for her comfort.

“My heart is fine.”

Liar.

He nodded, but she could tell that he wasn’t convinced. “How about those marshmallows now?”

Reece got up and walked into the house. Vivian sighed. What was she doing here? She should just call a cab and head back to the hospital. She shouldn’t be here, alone with Reece. He was dangerous to her.

He reminded her of all the things she couldn’t have.

Of the things she didn’t deserve. She wouldn’t hurt him again because she couldn’t promise him any kind of future.

She stood and made her mind up to leave when Reece came back outside, carrying a bag of marshmallows and a guitar bag.

“What’re you doing?” he asked, watching her inch away from the fire.

“I think I should go.”

“Why?”

“I think it would be for the best.”

“I think you need to sit down,” Reece said sternly. “Besides, a cab won’t come out this far this late at night so you’re trapped and totally at my mercy.”

“At your mercy?”

“Yes. I’m going to force you to eat a marshmallow.” He winked.

Vivian rolled her eyes but sat back down. The fire was warm and it felt good. “So what’s the guitar bag for?”

“Believe it or not, it has a guitar in it.” He was teasing her. Just like he used to do. It was nice.

“I know that.”

“I was going to sing,” Reece said. “Your mom said you sing too.”

“What?” She shook her head. “I don’t sing. So put it away.”

Reece shrugged. “It’s something I do out here.”

“I suddenly feel like I’m in a John Denver special,” Vivian muttered under her breath.

Reece tipped back his hat and laughed. It had been a long time since she’d really seen him laugh like that. It made her heart melt just a bit and all those good times came rushing back. Endless nights on night shift and laughing together down a darkened hallway over something completely ridiculous, but when one was sleep-deprived it was the funniest thing in creation. It was a shared joke like that which had ended with her in his arms for the first time.

She’d been laughing so hard and had been so tired that she’d tripped and he’d reached out for her, bringing her tightly against him. When she’d looked up into his eyes, suddenly it hadn’t been all that funny anymore and she’d been swept away in a passionate kiss.

The only man who’d even been able to make her feel that way. She’d kissed other men after Reece, but none compared to him. None.

And just recalling that moment made her cheeks heat, a shiver of anticipation racing down her spine.

“So what’re you going to sing for me?” she asked, trying to knock those dangerous thoughts from her mind because if she kept lingering on those delicious memories she was apt to forget herself and throw herself in his arms.

Her heart couldn’t take his rejection.

“I think we’ll sing my dad’s song, ‘Under My Spell.’ Do you know it?”

“Yes,” Vivian said. “I know it, but I’m not going to sing.”

“Why?”

“I don’t sing, but I’ll listen.” She would gladly listen to him sing again, even though letting him seduce her with his music was probably not a good idea.

Reece began to pick at his guitar, the familiar melody of that lonesome love song—one her father had been good at mimicking—floating out across the darkness. It had been her favorite song, but her father had ruined that.

Still, with Reece singing it, it made her forget her father.

It made her forget everything and before she knew what she was doing she was singing along with him to the words she thought she’d forgotten but were somehow still there. She couldn’t help herself. She’d forgotten how much she used to love to sing. Especially with her mother and father.

That was before her father had left. When her childhood had been somewhat happy.

Sort of normal.

That was why she hadn’t sung for so long. It was too painful, but singing with Reece felt right. It felt as if they’d been doing it for a long time.

Their gazes met across the fire and it was as if an invisible tether reached out and bound them together in a shared moment, their voices melding and meshing together perfectly in sync. It made goose bumps rise on her arms. It carried her away.

And when the song ended, the magic didn’t. His eyes were sparkling in the firelight, her heart was pounding in her ears, her pulse racing.

Run. If you know what’s good for you. Run.

Only she couldn’t run. She didn’t want to run.

Before she knew what was happening he was setting down his guitar and closing the gap between them. His hands were cupping her face, his fingers brushing the nape of her neck, and then his lips were on hers.

Kissing her, making her melt into his arms in a heady rush of pleasure. And she knew without a doubt that this kiss was not enough; she wanted more.

She wanted his hands on her body, touching her places that no one else had touched. She wanted him again. She wanted him pressed against her, making love to her, but she couldn’t have that.

She didn’t deserve that.

Vivian pushed him away, placing her hands on his chest. She could feel his heart was racing like hers.

“I think I should go home now,” she whispered, her voice hitching in her throat because her body was protesting.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Reece agreed huskily. He took a step back from her. “Just let me put out the fire and I’ll meet you at the truck.”

Vivian nodded and walked toward the front of the house, the spell broken. She glanced back to watch him throw sand on the fire, breaking up the logs so it wouldn’t keep smoldering, and she wished there was some way to stop the fire that was burning for him inside her.

But when it came to him, she knew it wasn’t a fire that could be easily extinguished.

* * *

Reece wasn’t sure what he’d been thinking last night. He hadn’t planned for that to happen; he hadn’t wanted it to happen. Last night was just supposed to be a friendly campfire. He’d had them many times before.

He’d thought maybe trying to get her to relax would help her work out what was causing Gary’s problems—maybe they could talk it out together—but instead his plan had completely backfired. When she’d started to sing beautifully with him, he’d lost his head. Watching her in the firelight, the lake behind her shimmering like diamonds, was more than he could take, because it was something he’d always wanted.

That was seven years ago, though.

And he had to keep reminding himself that times had changed—they were just friends—but when she was in his arms, her soft lips against his, his fingers in her silky, soft red hair, it all came rushing back to him.

He was a starving man. He wanted more. So much more and he’d thought for a moment that she wanted the same thing, but when she’d broken off the kiss and pushed him away he realized she didn’t and it hurt like hell.

It brought back that moment when he’d woken up to an empty bed and a note that she was leaving for Germany and wishing him the best.

How he’d called out for her, even after he’d read the note because he couldn’t quite believe that she’d left him. Even then he’d gotten dressed and driven to her mother’s place.

“She’s gone,” Sandra had said. “She took an early morning flight out to Munich.”

“Why didn’t she tell me sooner?” he’d asked.

“I told you to let her go before, Reece. She tried to tell you and she almost didn’t go. Don’t you see this was for the best?”

Only he hadn’t seen that because he’d been blinded by love. He’d been so in love with her and her abrupt departure had crushed him.

It was good she’d walked away. It was good it hadn’t gone beyond that kiss.

He wouldn’t risk his heart again.

As he rounded the corner he caught a glimpse of her, charting at the nurses’ station. That silky hair tied back in a braid and wound into a bun so he could see all her creamy white neck as she typed into a tablet.

She was beautiful.

She was like a drug for him and he had to put some distance between them so he didn’t forget himself. Last night had been a fluke. His emotions had been running high after singing his father’s songs and being found out by someone who knew his father.

Then she’d been there in the alley, waiting for him, and it had been a heady rush escaping off into the woods with her.

It was as if no time had passed between them.

As if she knew someone was watching her, she looked up and their gazes locked across the hall. A slight tinge of pink rose in her creamy-white skin and she smiled at him briefly before turning back to her notes.

And it was obvious in that awkward moment she was feeling the same things as he was. She was regretting the kiss. Just like he was.

Liar.

His pager vibrated and he glanced at it to see that Dr. Brigham was paging him. Reece sighed and turned to make his way to the Chief of Surgery’s office at the other side of the hospital.

When he got there he was ushered right in.

“Ah, Dr. Castle, I’m so glad you were able to come see me. Have a seat.” Dr. Brigham motioned to the empty chair and sat down behind his desk. Reece sat down. He’d been working with Dr. Brigham long enough to recognize that the man was agitated.

“How can I help you, Chief?”

Dr. Brigham leaned back in his chair and tented his fingers. “I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors that I’m retiring soon and that I’m looking for another neurosurgeon to take my place. Of course this has ticked off our human resources rep. She thinks that I should pick from a larger pool of surgeons.”

“I don’t disagree with her,” Reece said cautiously.

“I wanted the next chief to take my surgery load. A general surgeon can’t do craniotomies.”

“No, but you could always pass on your case load to another neurosurgeon and appoint another as chief.”

Dr. Brigham frowned. “I don’t like it, but I have to do what the Board wants and they agree with the HR representative.”

Reece nodded. “So how can I help you?”

“You know the other surgeons well. Could you name some good surgeons in other fields that would be good candidates?”

“Off the top of my head, Dr. Dean, Dr. Anderson and Dr. Morris would fill the position well. They’re excellent.”

“Thank you.”

“Is that all?” Reece asked.

“No, I want your opinion about Dr. Maguire. There have been some concerns raised.”