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Authors: Teresa Southwick

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BOOK: The Millionaire and the M.D.
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In fact, she had nothing. But she didn't care. She was ridiculously happy to see him.

“I brought salad and wine.” He set everything on the kitchen table, then opened her vertical blinds to let in the view of the Las Vegas Strip. “If you have a corkscrew and some glasses, I'll do the honors.”

“Coming right up.”

Rebecca scrounged through the drawer closest to the table and found the tool, then reached in the cupboard up above and grabbed two wineglasses. “Here you go.”

Going, going, gone, she thought, really looking at him. He'd hung his brown leather jacket on the back of a chair and was just rolling up the long sleeves of his casual white shirt. Worn jeans fit his muscular legs like a second skin. The whole look worked for her in a really big way—starting with his thick, wavy, dark-blond hair. The effect continued with his straight white teeth and a smile that should be declared a lethal weapon or a miracle cure. His appeal extended, but was not limited to his broad shoulders and a wide chest that tapered to his flat abdomen and narrow hips. He was a beautiful man. And—best of all—he was
here.

Her heart was beating so fast she'd blow a pacemaker if she had one. And it was time to get a grip.

She turned away and gathered a couple of placemats, paper plates, napkins and utensils and set the table where he'd poured red wine and opened the salad and pizza boxes.

“Dinner is served,” he said, pulling back a chair for her.

“Thank you.” She sat and settled herself while he took the seat beside her.

He held up his glass. “What should we drink to?”

“Why do we have to drink to anything?”

“Do you question everything?”

“Inquiring minds want to know,” she said, then took a bite of pizza.

He shook his head, blue eyes twinkling. “With that big brain of yours, I bet you were a pain in the ass to your teachers.”

“You'd win that bet,” she said proudly. “But curiosity is a doctor's best friend. Some conditions are a mystery. Symptoms are clues and we have to figure out what's going on.”

“Speaking of that, how's Amy?” He bit into his pizza and chewed while he waited for an answer.

“She's fine. Still not emotionally engaged in what's going on. I tried to tell her that she needs to be ready to care for a baby, but she was unreceptive. Said you would help and can do anything.”

His mouth pulled tight for a moment before he said, “She's got that wrong.”

“You won't help?”

“No. I'm not superman.”

“You don't have to be.” He didn't look convinced and she decided to change the subject. “So where is Amy tonight?”

“Jack took her out to dinner.”

“I'm sure dinner with a good-looking guy will make Amy feel better.” It was working for Rebecca.

“You think Jack is good-looking?”

“Oh, please. Is George Clooney a troll?” she asked. “Of course Jack is handsome. Grace thinks so, too.”

“Hmm. What does Grace think about me?” He sent her a warning look. “If the word
troll
pops into your head, I'd appreciate it if you'd consider rephrasing.”

“What pops into my head is that you're
trolling
for compliments.”

“That was bad, Doc.”

“Really? I thought it was quite clever.”

“You're too smart for your own good.”

He was too sexy for
her
own good, and her nerve endings were buzzing. And the alert level never lowered as they laughed and bantered while finishing dinner. Afterward, Gabe helped her clean up, which amounted to throwing the paper stuff away and putting forks in the dishwasher. By silent agreement they moved over to the corner group in front of her fireplace and set their wineglasses down on the glass coffee table. Rebecca sat and Gabe picked the place right beside her, close enough to smell the scent of his aftershave and feel the heat of his skin.

The adrenaline haze was fading, letting in a healthy dose of reality. Her ridiculously happy phase had passed and she wondered if he'd missed Amy's appointment because he was avoiding her. But if that was the case, why was he here now? Inquiring minds wanted to know.

She angled her body sideways. “So, why did Jack bring Amy into the office today?”

“I was held up by an unscheduled meeting with the hospital's regional president,” he explained. “He wanted to discuss phases two and three of the Mercy Medical expansion project. Rule number one in business school says that when establishing yourself in a new market, never give your first client a reason to be less than completely satisfied. You don't often get a second chance to make a first impression.”

“So you're not avoiding me?”

The words bypassed her brain-to-mouth filter and were out before she could stop them. More than anything she wanted them back because they just screamed geek alert. It was a subtle reminder, or maybe not so much, that she'd pushed him away. So far he hadn't asked any questions and she would prefer not to answer any.

“I'm not avoiding you.” Gabe's eyes darkened even as the corners of his mouth curved up. “Definitely not avoiding you. In fact—”

She slid both legs up on the couch and tucked them beside her as she faced him fully. “What?”

“Well, I was just wondering what you think about kissing.”

If
he
was involved, she was all in favor of it. “Kissing is a unique form of communication and involves a large part of the brain.”

“Oh?” He looked amused. “That would explain why you're such a good kisser.”

“I am?” She was confused.

“On more than one occasion you've told me how smart you are. That must mean you have a very big brain.” His nostrils flared slightly, as if he were scenting her and she turned him on.

“I…I can certainly retain a lot of information,” she said, her voice slightly breathless. “For instance—did you know that kissing is good for your health?”

“Really?” He was still amused, but the rise and fall of his chest was faster.

“Oh, yes. Let me think.” She tapped her lip. “It slows the aging process. Kissing helps tone cheek and jaw muscles so they're less likely to sag.”

“That's vanity, not good health.”

“Okay. Then how about this? It speeds up metabolism and helps burn calories.”

“I'm all in favor of that.” He reached out a finger and traced her lips.

Her own respirations escalated by a lot. “It relieves tension. Breathing becomes deeper and eyes close, which is what you do to relax.”

“I'm not feeling especially relaxed at the moment.”

That made two of them. But he wasn't making a move and she desperately wanted him to. “I read somewhere that it helps prevent tooth decay.”

“Now you're pulling my leg.”

She held up her hand, palm out. “Word of honor. It stimulates saliva flow and brings plaque levels down to normal.”

His eyes burned into hers. “Right now, I'd have to say all of my levels are anything
but
normal.”

Her heart started racing. “It's also a cardiovascular workout. If it's exciting, you release adrenaline into the bloodstream and the heart pumps more blood around your body.”

“All around? Or certain parts?” he asked, his voice deep, seductive, his gaze challenging, intense.

Automatically her gaze dropped—
there
—and she swallowed hard. She decided to ignore the question. “And then there are the pheromones.”

“Tell me about those.”

“They're the chemical messengers that signal sexual attraction.”

“I see.” He slid closer, so close that his shoulder brushed hers. “Let me see if I understand. Kissing is essentially an exchange of information between two people.”

“Yes,” she said.

“It's the ultimate chemistry experiment just this side of sex.”

“That's one way to look at it,” she agreed.

“And science is your thing,” he added softly.

“I…I suppose.”

“So when are you going to get scientific with me?”

“What are you saying?”

She wasn't stupid. She had a pretty good idea that he was asking if she wanted to have sex. That was kind of a nobrainer. Her hormones hadn't been this happy—well—ever. And he hadn't even touched her yet. Which could be why she was swamped with need. She didn't have a lot of experience. The first time didn't count. It was violence, not sex. If she could thank her fiancé for anything, it would be for getting her through any postassault physical doubts and fears. But he'd also taught her that losing trust could be as bad as the physical betrayal—when faith was gone you felt just as bad. She didn't want to put herself in a position where she experienced either again.

This was just sex. A basic biological function. They were two people who were mutually attracted—and this was the most important part—consenting adults. To be here like this with Gabe felt so good, especially because she'd thought he was avoiding her.

And this was the biggest problem with her brain. She thought things to death. She was so tired of analyzing everything. For this moment in time she just wanted to
feel.

“Rebecca?” He trailed his finger beneath her chin and nudged it up. “Do you really not understand what I'm asking?”

“I understand.” She met his gaze. “And here's my answer.”

Rebecca leaned forward, and no part of her body touched his except where their lips met. Just as she remembered, his mouth was soft, yielding, and he smelled…umm…he smelled like sun and spice and good enough to make her pheromones moan. Before she could censor herself, a soft sound of satisfaction seemed to slide out of her throat, and the next thing she knew, he'd tugged her gently into his lap.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed herself against him. When he cupped her ribs with one big hand and brushed his thumb across the underside of her breast, a punch of pleasure rocked her. They looked at each other for a long moment, then their mouths came together again in a chaos of hunger and heat and heart-pumping passion. She couldn't taste him deeply enough and when he traced her lips with his tongue, she eagerly opened to let him inside. Taking full advantage, he plundered the inside of her mouth with his tongue.

He groaned as he cupped her face in his wide palm and brushed his thumb over her cheek, as gently erotic as when he'd touched her breast.

She let her fingers slide through the hair at his nape and traced the span of his shoulders and the muscles that bunched beneath his shirt. He was so strong and so gentle at the same time. A feeling of tenderness welled up inside her, so big and wide and deep that it was almost painful.

He kissed her cheek, the underside of her jaw, and nibbled her neck, his mouth leaving a trail of tingles wherever he touched.

“Gabe?” Did that husky, needy voice really belong to her?

“Hmm?”

“I…I don't think—” She sucked in a breath and shivered when he kissed an especially sensitive spot just beneath her ear.

“What don't you think?”

“You didn't see the upstairs last time you were here,” she pointed out, far too rationally, considering the fact that her body was in danger of going up in flames.

“Is your bedroom up there?” His voice was deep and raspy.

“Yes.”

He stood with her in his arms. “Lead the way.”

“You have to put me down first.”

“Do I have to?” he asked, his lips against hers.

“I'm afraid you'll hurt your back and that would make me sad. Very, very sad.”

He smiled as he removed his arm from beneath her legs and let them slide down his front. “I don't want that.”

“It's not my first choice, either.”

She took his hand and showed him the way up the stairs and through the double doors at the top that led into her bedroom. Light from the hall trickled in. Her queen-size bed was unmade and she'd never been more grateful that she'd been running late that morning. She stopped beside it and he stepped behind her, sliding his arms around her waist as he pulled her against him. She could feel the hard evidence of his desire, and exhilaration rolled through her. He really wanted
her.

“This is my room.”

“Nice room.” He nuzzled her throat. “Nice neck.”

“I'm glad you like it.”

“Rebecca, I—You need to know—”

“What?” she asked, covering his hands with her own.

His breath caressed her cheek. “I haven't done this in a very long time.”

BOOK: The Millionaire and the M.D.
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