Книга - Challenging the Nurse’s Rules

Challenging the Nurse's Rules
Janice Lynn


Adrenalin junkie aristocrat George Somers is used to relationships as short and as sweet as the thrills he seeks. But, when an accident puts him in the care of physiotherapist and single mum Serena James, being bed-bound suddenly seems more than appealing!George may be a risk-taker…but letting Serena and her little boy into his heart will be his biggest challenge yet…












Challenging the

Nurse’s Rules

Janice Lynn







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To the crew at Dr. J Family Medicine. Thank you for making me a part of your family. I love you all.


Dear Reader

Life sometimes forces us in new directions whether we want to go there or not. When nurse Joni Thompson’s heart and career are left in tatters by the man she loves, she starts over in Bean’s Creek, North Carolina, making a new life for herself, determined never to give another man control over her life.

Only she can’t resist Dr Grant Bradley’s smile—nor his touch. But so long as she’s the one making the rules and they stick to them her heart and job will be safe … right? Too bad the dashing pulmonologist is playing by his own set of life rules—rules that leave her heart vulnerable. But what’s a girl to do when he steals her breath and demands she give him her all?

Hope you enjoy Joni and Grant’s story, and the Bean’s Creek crew.

I love to hear from readers. Please e-mail me at janice@janicelynn.net to let me know what you think of Joni and Grant’s story, or just to chat about romance. You can also visit me at www.janicelynn.net, or on Facebook, to find out my latest news.

Happy reading!

Janice


Recent titles by Janice Lynn:

FLIRTING WITH THE SOCIETY DOCTOR

DOCTOR’S DAMSEL IN DISTRESS

THE NURSE WHO SAVED CHRISTMAS

OFFICER, GENTLEMAN … SURGEON!

DR DI ANGELO’S BABY BOMBSHELL

PLAYBOY SURGEON, TOP-NOTCH DAD

These books are also available in eBook format from www.millsandboon.co.uk




CHAPTER ONE


“THERE is just something about that man that makes my uterus want to come out of retirement.”

Intensive Care nurse Joni Thompson’s gaze jerked away from the IV pump she was programming to gawk at the eighty-plus-year-old skeleton of a woman lying in the hospital bed. Mrs. Sain had severe chronic obstructive pulmonary disease and was unfortunately a frequent flyer in the ICU when she lapsed into hyper-capneic respiratory failure.

Joni didn’t have to ask who her patient referred to. Apparently, even little old ladies two tiptoed steps from death’s doorway weren’t immune to his charm.

Dr. Grant Bradley, pulmonologist extraordinare.

Okay, so the man had it all. Brains, beauty, body.

Not that she’d noticed. Much.

Oh, yes, much perfectly described how she’d not noticed Grant.

She’d not noticed much about his sky-blue eyes. Or much about his broad shoulders that couldn’t be hidden beneath his standard hospital-issue scrub tops that perfectly matched those thickly lashed intelligent eyes. Or much about his narrow hips, and she just knew if she could pull his scrub pants tight to his body, he’d have a butt not worth much ado as well.

But his smile was what she’d not noticed the most much.

His smile lit up his face, dug dimples into his handsome cheeks, and made his beautiful eyes dance with mischief. The man’s smile did funny things to her insides.

She closed her eyes and willed Grant out of her head yet again. Seemed like the longer he worked in Bean’s Creek, the more she had to forcibly exorcise the man from her thoughts.

“It’s his smile, you know.”

Had Mrs. Sain read her mind or what?

Joni gawked at the white-haired woman fanning her face as if she really was having a full-blown hot flush brought on by a sudden surge of Dr. Grant Bradley-is-Hot hormones.

“When that man smiles it’s as if he knows your every secret.” Mrs. Sain’s fanning increased, gaining good rhythm for a person in her frail condition. “As if he knows you’re thinking about him, and he likes being the center of your attention.” A soft sigh escaped thin, pale lips as her eyes closed. “Reminds me of my Hickerson.”

Joni smiled at the woman’s reminiscing of her late husband. Her patient often mentioned the devilishly handsome man she’d spent more than sixty-five years married to.

Was Mrs. Sain right? Was it Grant’s smile that made him so irresistible? Joni considered the cocky sideways grin he frequently flashed her way. The man smiled exactly as if he knew what she was thinking and his arrogant self liked it that she wanted to rip off his clothes and lick him from head to toe and all in between.

Definitely all in between.

He expected no less than that reaction from women.

Why would he?

The man was a god when it came to the opposite sex. Women of all ages fell over themselves vying for his attention, vying for one of those half-cocked grins to be just for them.

No, he wasn’t a god, more like a tempting devil crooking his finger to lure women to the dark side.

Biting back a frustrated sigh, Joni shook her head at her still fanning—although rapidly losing momentum—patient. The woman had been on a vent less than forty-eight hours before. If Joni didn’t know better she’d swear the IV fluid must have contained youth serum. Or one hundred-proof estrogen. Joni really liked the spunky older lady who somehow always managed to bounce back no matter how ill she was at time of admission.

“Not that he looks at me like that, mind you. But I’ve seen how he looks at you.” Mrs. Sain placed her weathered hand on Joni’s arm. “I think he may be a little sweet on you.”

“I think your oxygen must be dropping because you obviously aren’t thinking straight,” Joni snorted, winking to soften her words because she’d been a bit more brusque than she’d meant to. Honestly, she just couldn’t deal with Grant being “a little sweet” on her. She had her once messy life all straightened out. She didn’t need Dr. Steal Her Breath throwing a curve into her life plan.

Mrs. Sain didn’t appear in the slightest concerned about her oxygen levels, just laughed at Joni’s remark and patted her arm with thin, clubbed fingers.

Trying her best not to react so she didn’t encourage Mrs. Sain’s current train of thought, Joni listened to the woman’s heart and lungs. She noted the steady click of the woman’s pacemaker and the coarse rhonchi and expiratory wheezing heard bibasilarly in both lungs anteriorly and posteriorly. As horrible as the woman’s lungs sounded, they were still much improved from even the day before. Hopefully her breathing would continue to improve so Grant could discharge her back to the assisted living facility where she resided.

Grant sweet on her? Only in Joni’s secret late-night fantasies was a man like Grant sweet on her.

No, that wasn’t true. For some unknown reason Grant was interested in her. Although he’d seemed a bit standoffish with her at first, for the past few weeks he’d found reasons to seek her out, talk to her, touch her arm or hand, to make eye contact and smile that wicked smile at her.

He had asked her out.

For this weekend.

She’d immediately turned him down. Not that he’d accepted that. No, the great Dr. Bradley had told her to think about it because they both knew she wanted to go out with him as much as he wanted her to say yes.

Ha! Who was he to say that she wanted to go out with him?

How much did he want her to say yes? Why?

If she had said yes, go where?

He hadn’t even told where their supposed date would have been. Most likely the hospital’s Hearts for Health fundraiser.

The last thing she wanted was to go to a hospital event and be lumped into the category of Dr. Bradley’s latest bedroom babe.

No matter how long she thought about his question, no matter how tempted she might be, her answer wouldn’t change.

She knew all about men like Grant. They played the field then moved on, leaving havoc in their wake. Grant was no different. Hadn’t he already made his way through a good portion of the single population at the hospital?

Okay, so technically she only knew of a couple of hospital employees he’d been linked with during the few months he’d been in Bean’s Creek, but there were probably more, right? It wasn’t as if she was privy to his social calendar, but she imagined the man never lacked for female company.

She imagined lots of things in regard to Grant.

So okay, he was interested and, truth be told, she thought about him a lot. Too much really. But she wouldn’t be changing her mind about going out with him. She knew better. Had learned that lesson the hard way years ago.

Dr. Mark Braseel had taught her well.

“I think you might be a little sweet on him, too.”

Mrs. Sain’s words had the effect of hot lava dropping onto Joni’s face. Was her annoying fascination with the man that obvious? How long had she been in a thinking-of-Grant daze? No wonder he’d asked her out. He probably thought she was an easy score to add another notch to his proverbial macho-man belt.

No, thank you. Been there, done that. Not ever walking down that painful road again regardless of how much Grant might tempt her. Some scars ran too deep to risk reopening.

She met Mrs. Sain’s curious gaze, held it without blinking. “You couldn’t be further from the truth.”

Which was true. None of her thoughts about Grant were sweet. If she were on that hot-blooded man, well, let’s just say she wouldn’t be sweet. Uh-uh, no way. She’d be a wildcat.

Hello! Where had that come from? Her? A wildcat?

She laughed out loud at the mere thought of her being wild, period. Not her. She was the perpetual good girl. The one and only time she’d stepped outside her good-girl shoes she’d paid too high a price.

A stab of pain pierced her chest and she blinked away the moisture that stung her eyes at the memory of her life’s biggest mistake. She’d been so gullible, so stupid. No way would she ever let a man deceive her like that again.

“Now, Mrs. Sain, let’s get back to important things. Like your health.” She bit the inside of her lower lip, tasting the metallic tang of blood. Telling herself to get a grip, she refocused on the IV pump settings. “I’m so glad that your lungs are holding their own. Although they are still weak, you’re doing wonderful to be so soon off the ventilator. Your saturations are staying in the low nineties.”

“Only because of this.” Mrs. Sain gestured to the nasal cannula that provided a continuous flow of concentrated oxygen. “But I’m not going to complain because at least I’m breathing without that tube down my throat.”

“What are you not complaining about?” the subject of their earlier conversation asked as he invaded the room.

Invaded was the right word.

When Grant stepped into a room he encompassed and overwhelmed everyone and everything, all without putting forth any more effort than just existing. The man exuded charisma. Life could be so unfair.

“My oxygen.” Mrs. Sain beamed at her doctor, encompassed and overwhelmed and obviously once again considering bringing her female organs out of retirement.

Grateful that her patient hadn’t elaborated on what they’d been discussing, Joni tried to keep from looking directly at Grant. Keeping her gaze off his gorgeous face proved impossible. In mere seconds she was watching him grin at Mrs. Sain before he placed his stethoscope to her, carefully auscultating the crackling sounds the shallow rise and fall of her frail chest made.

Whatever his flaws might be—and she was sure he had a few even if she’d yet to really discover what they might be other than that he was a playboy—the man was an excellent doctor, one Joni would like on her side if her lungs ever failed.

Hello! Her lungs were failing right now, clearly not bringing in enough oxygen because when he looked up and their gazes met, she’d swear she felt … something. Something hot and intense and so powerful that she had to look away. Had to.

Because she felt encompassed and overwhelmed and as if her own uterus was doing cartwheels, wanting to come out of the self-imposed retirement Joni had forced her body into after Mark.

Because she felt as if she needed that ventilator her patient had not so long ago been weaned off.

She closed her eyes, sucked a deep breath into her starved lungs, touched the raised bed railing to ground herself to reality.

“Joni,” Grant acknowledged her presence. Or maybe he wanted her to look back up at him. Or maybe he thought she was about to pass out. She didn’t know. She didn’t look or faint. Thank goodness.

Okay, so there was a little something-something between them. A little something-something that was hot and intense and quite potent. She had felt it the first time she’d laid eyes on him. Yes, she had caught him looking at her several times as well, but she’d decided he must be trying to figure out why she was always looking at him.

When he was distracted, she did look.

Look? More like let her eyes feast on him, soaking up every morsel of his eye-candiness. Which meant she was quite pathetic and not nearly as immune to his charms as she liked to think. Then again, maybe she was just trying to figure out what it was about the man that messed with her head when she’d been getting along just fine all these years without once being tempted to get involved in another relationship.

“You sure got quiet.” Mrs. Sain practically cackled with her delight. Definitely, her eyes held a knowing sparkle and an uh-hum, I knew it gleam.

Suppressing a smile in spite of her inner turmoil, Joni shook her head at the older woman who’d come so far in such a short time. “You sure talk a lot for someone who was just taken off a vent a couple of days ago. Shouldn’t you be quiet? Save your voice?” she teased.

Her eyes not losing their twinkle, the older woman attempted to take a deep breath into her diseased lungs. She only managed to bring on a coughing spell that lasted a full minute and had both Grant and Joni leaning her forward to beat on her back before she calmed and nodded. “You should spend some time with me when I’m not hacking up a lung.”

Glad the coughing spell had ended, Joni thought she’d like spending time with this feisty woman very much. “I’d love to.”

Grant said something from behind Joni. She couldn’t make out his words, but then he spoke clearer, louder to his patient. “You keep improving the way you have over the past forty-eight hours and you’re going to blow this joint in a few days.”

Mrs. Sain’s scarce eyelashes batted coyly at Grant. “You make house calls, Doc?”

Joni suppressed an eye roll. Grant just grinned at the feisty woman.

“Only when I have a nurse to chaperone me. Gotta have someone around to make sure I behave.” He winked conspiratorially at his patient. “Maybe we can convince Joni to accompany me to check on you.”

Mrs. Sain seemed to think that a brilliant idea. Joni just gave a noncommittal answer, finished logging in the data she’d collected, then skedaddled out of the hospital room before the two had her committing to something she’d regret—like making house calls with Grant.

She paused outside the closed door, took a deep breath. Phew. What was it about the man that got her so flustered?

Why ask a question she knew the answer to?

Everything about Dr. Grant Bradley flustered her—and apparently every other female on the planet.

“You are going to the Hearts for Health benefit on Friday, right?” Samantha Swann asked as she clocked out via the hospital time-keeping system on the nurses’ station desktop computer.

“You know I am.” Joni replaced her best friend at the computer, typed in her information, clocked out, then logged off the program. “I’m volunteering with the cake walk for an hour.”

The North Carolina hospital was committed to being involved within the community, playing an active role in helping out when needed. Hearts for Health was cosponsored by the hospital, hospital employees, and local businesses to provide assistance to families with healthcare needs within the community, whether that need was for transportation back and forth to doctors’ appointments or for assistance with excessive medical expenses. Joni wholeheartedly believed in the organization and often volunteered a helping hand. Friday night was a fundraising event that involved a barbecue dinner, games, and a raffle for various items donated by local businesses.

“I’m selling tickets at the front door. Vann is stopping by about the time my shift ends. We’ll look for you so we can all grab a bite to eat together.”

Vann had been Samantha’s significant other since they had been fifteen. He’d asked Samantha to marry him at least a dozen times, but Samantha had turned him down each and every time, stating that they really shouldn’t ruin a perfectly good relationship that way. As Joni couldn’t name a single happily married couple, she tended to agree with her friend.

“Sounds great.” She gathered her purse and turned to go, colliding into Grant.

He reached out, steadied her, smiled down at her even as she pulled away from him. How long had he been standing behind her? Had he been listening to she and Samantha talk? Why was her heart clamoring its way out of her chest? Not because his body had felt strong and solid against her. Not because in that brief moment before she’d jerked back, a zillion electrodes had sparked to life within her. Not because he’d smelled so good she’d wanted to fill her lungs with the musky scent of him.

Samantha smiled at Grant. All the nursing staff liked him. Most couldn’t say enough ooey-gooey things about him.

“Is there something I can help you with before I go?” Samantha offered, despite the fact she had clocked out, doing a fairly good imitation of Mrs. Sain’s earlier eyelash batting.

“No. Thanks, though.” His gaze briefly touched on Samantha, then shot right back to Joni. “Can I speak with you?”

Her heart rate zoomed from banging against her ribcage to an all-out pinball machine ball ricocheting hard throughout her chest cavity. She was pretty sure her rhythm would send a cardiologist into panic, too. No way was the fluttery thump-thump in her chest anywhere near normal. Maybe she should make an appointment with Vann.

“I guess so,” she squeaked, sending a desperate don’t-leave-me glance toward Samantha, who proceeded to bat her lashes again, wave, and do just that. Great. Some best friend.

With a friendly nod he said goodbye to Samantha, then turned the full force of his attention onto Joni. Never had eyes been bluer or more intense. Never had a grin been more lethal. “If you’re ready to go, I’ll walk you to your car.”

Grabbing her bag, she nodded, keeping her gaze anywhere but on him. She didn’t point out that his car would be in the physicians’ parking area and nowhere near hers. Neither did she point out that she was perfectly capable of walking herself to her car and that she’d been doing so for the five years she’d worked at Bean’s Creek Memorial.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“Why did you say no when I asked you out?”

They asked at the same time.

Although her feet kept moving at a normal pace, the urge to run shimmied up her spine. Every fight-or-flight protective response flared strong within her body. “That’s what you wanted to talk about?”

“Not really.”

Surprised by his answer, her gaze cut to him. “Pardon?”

“No, I don’t really want to talk about a beautiful woman saying no when I ask her to go out with me. I’d really like to forget that ever happened.” He grinned sheepishly.

Joni tried to ignore the way her own eyelashes threatened to flutter at him calling her beautiful, at the impact of that smile.

“But,” he continued, “I do want to understand why you said no.”

Did he have all night? Because explaining her reasons could take that long if she told him the truth. If she told him about Mark, about her mother, about her fear of addiction, about how she was determined to keep her eyes focused on her career.

“Does my reason matter?” she asked instead.

“Obviously, or we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Good point. “You aren’t my type.”

“Male?” His eyebrows waggled in a Groucho Marx imitation.

She rolled her eyes heavenwards and kept walking.

“Good looking?”

She bit the already sore spot on her lip. The man was really too much.

“Smart?”

This time she snorted, fighting to keep from smiling. She did not want to smile. Lord knew, he didn’t need any encouragement.

“Really hot in bed?”

Stopping in mid-step, Joni turned to gawk. “Seriously?”

“Seriously.” The way he said the word left her in no doubt that he really was. No doubt her Egyptian cotton sheets would blaze if his naked skin ever brushed against them.

“Let me show you.”

There went the smile. The one Mrs. Sain had so accurately described. The one that was making her want to say, Okay, show me, O Lucifer.

“That’s not what I meant,” she said instead, shaking her head, mostly because she wanted to shake loose her crazy thoughts. She was not the kind of woman who had sex with a man just because he was self-professedly “really hot in bed". “I was referring to your question in the sense of did you really just say that? Not as in ‘Are you really hot in bed?'.”

“Yes to both.” His grin kicked up another notch, digging dimples deep into his cheeks and making laugh lines appear at the corner of his eyes. Oh, yeah, the man was Satan personified, tempting beyond belief.

“And so humble, too.” She was stronger than this, better than this. Turning away from his potent smile, she began walking toward the elevator again, knowing her peace of mind lay with getting far away from him as quickly as possible. “My answer is no to both.”

“Why?” he asked, easily matching her step for step.

Because you are too much like the man who broke my heart.

Because if I let you close you will break my heart, too, and I’m not ever going through that again.

Now, where had that come from? She didn’t usually wear Mark as a protective shield. She usually didn’t have to. No man tempted her to veer from the path she’d chosen for herself. She had responsibilities, to herself and to her mother.

“You have to ask that after what you just said to me?” she replied flippantly, not liking it that her thoughts had turned to her past. “I’m not interested, Dr. Bradley. Go be God’s gift to women with someone else.”

His smile slipped a little, and he sighed. “Am I coming on too strong? Is that the problem?”

Taking a deep breath, she tried a different tactic. “We both work at the hospital. You shouldn’t be coming on at all.”

“There aren’t any hospital rules against employees dating. I checked.”

Why didn’t that surprise her? “I’m sure you did, several dates ago,” she bit out with a little more snarkiness than she’d intended.

His brow arched. “Oh, really?”

Heat flooding her face, Joni shrugged. “I just meant that I know you’ve gone out with a few hospital employees.”

“You know that?” He looked intrigued by her response, which she found very irritating. Everything about the man irritated her.

“I know.”

His lips twisted with amusement, annoying her further. “Who is it I’m supposed to have gone out with?”

Hot faced, Joni named the women who had been linked with him. She wanted nothing more than to race the rest of the way to the elevator and escape him.

They took several steps in silence before he said, “You know I sponsored a team in the golf tournament, right?”

No, she hadn’t known that. “What golf tournament?”

“The one the Lions’ club is putting on next month.”

She vaguely recalled hearing something about the event, just hadn’t paid much attention as she knew next to nothing about golf. “Oh.” Then she frowned. “What does a golf tournament have to do with our conversation?”

“It’s a co-ed tournament.” His smile was lethal. “Do you know who my teammates are?” He punched the elevator down button.

She shook her head, waited for the elevator doors to slide open, and stepped inside the car, wishing by some miracle he wouldn’t follow her.

Along with the hospital’s medical director, he named the two women who she’d been told he was dating. The two women she’d just named.

Was he saying he hadn’t dated either? Or that he’d just dated them due to the contact they shared with being teammates for the golf tournament?

“You are the only woman I’ve asked out on a date since I’ve moved to Bean’s Creek.”

Her heart spit and sputtered in her chest.

“You don’t need to tell me any of this,” she began, not quite sure why they were having this conversation or why his response made her want to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him. “For that matter, why are you telling me? What you do outside the hospital is of no consequence to me.”

“See,” he mused, pressing the door closed button and holding it in. His gaze held hers, refused to let her do anything more than stare back into the twinkling blue. “That’s the problem. I want what I do outside the hospital to be of consequence to you.”




CHAPTER TWO


SINCE when had Grant become so desperate that he had to corner a woman in an elevator to try to convince her to go on a date with him? Since when had he had to try to convince a woman to go out with him, period?

Since Joni had said no to him and he’d realized the curvy, auburn-haired beauty wasn’t going to change her mind.

He’d wanted to ask her out the moment he’d arrived in Bean’s Creek and met the always-smiling ICU nurse. Unfortunately, he’d learned a hard lesson about jumping into a relationship too fast. He’d wanted to be sure before he asked anyone out in Bean’s Creek. To make sure he wasn’t dealing with anyone mentally unstable or with addiction problems. He couldn’t deal with another Ashley in his life. He’d had too much unfinished baggage to settle prior to starting a new relationship.

So he’d put his personal life on hold while he established his new practice, resolved the relationship issues he’d left behind the best he could under the circumstances, and now that he was ready to move forward, to embrace his new life, Joni had said no.

Which left him wondering why.

He’d have to be blind, deaf, and dumb not to know that she was interested in him. As interested in him as he was in her. A volatile chemistry sparked between them that threatened combustion on contact. He wasn’t wrong about that. Which left what reason for her to say no?

Not that he was all that, but women didn’t usually turn him down flat. Especially women who looked at him the way Joni looked at him. Had any woman ever looked at him that way? With such yearning in her eyes? He didn’t think so. Which still didn’t resolve the question of why she’d turned him down.

“Have I done something to offend you?” He couldn’t think of anything specific, but maybe he’d inadvertently stepped on a toe or something. Maybe he should offer to rub her feet to make amends. He’d use any excuse to touch her.

She arched a brow, but didn’t quite meet his eyes, more like stared at his ear or maybe a stray strand of hair. “Other than tell me you were hot in bed?”

“That offended you?” She wasn’t a prude. He’d heard her laughing and cutting up with the other nurses and patients. Joni had a great sense of humor, even if she rarely gave him a direct glimpse of it. As a matter of fact, he was the only person she didn’t smile at.

“Obviously, it didn’t bowl me over,” she pointed out, taking a step back and pressing firmly against the elevator handrail.

“Obviously.” Grant regarded her long and hard and made a quick decision. “So tell me what would.”

Her startled gaze shot to meet his head on. “What would what?”

“Bowl you over.”

Her gaze lowered, her long lashes shading the lovely dark green hue of her eyes. “I don’t want to be bowled over.”

“Perhaps not, but humor me. What would it take for a man to win your interest? No, not a man, for me to win your interest and for you to go on a date with me?”

Her cheeks flushed a bright shade of pink, splotching her creamy skin that was otherwise only marked by the spattering of faint freckles across her nose. “Let it go, Grant. I’m not going to date you.”

His brow mimicked her earlier movement. “Because I’m not your type?”

“I do recall mentioning that only minutes ago.” She shot visual daggers at him.

Fine. He wasn’t so egotistical that he thought every woman wanted him. Only he knew Joni did. So why was she being so adamant that she didn’t?

“What is your type?” he questioned, determined that if she wasn’t going to date him he at least wanted to know her reasoning. “No one seems to know.”

Her lips pursed. “Have you been checking up on me?”

He’d asked, put out feelers to make sure she wasn’t involved with someone, to make sure she was free for him to ask out, to make sure no one raised red flags about her as a person. “Yeah, I guess I have, because I did ask around at the hospital.”

She exhaled with an annoyed huff. “Great. Now everyone will know.”

“Will know what?”

“That you asked about me.” Her expression screamed, Duh!

His confidence was ebbing fast, as was his reassurance at her sanity. “Is that a bad thing?”

“It’s not a good thing.” Her gaze shifted to the elevator button, then up at him expectantly.

Was he wrong? Had he imagined how this woman looked at him? How he caught her watching him? He’d bet his Hummer that she wanted him, too. So, why was she playing hard to get? Was there more going on than met the eye?

Grant didn’t like games. Lord only knew, he’d played enough of those over the past few years with Ashley. But he liked Joni in a way that made him want to know more, that made him unwilling to let this go until he understood her rejection.

Which perhaps made him the world’s biggest fool.

Because the right thing to do, what he should do, was lift his finger off the door-closed button, see her to her car, and forget about the pretty little nurse he thought about more often than not.

But that wasn’t what he did.

Instead, he took advantage of how close they stood to each other in the elevator and, keeping one finger on the door closed button, with his free hand he lifted her chin.

“Fine. You don’t want to date me. I’m not your type. Asking our co-workers about you prior to asking you out was a bad thing. But what about this?” he challenged.

She stared up at him with huge eyes. Her generous chest rose and fell in rapid, heavy breaths.

“If I kissed you, Joni, would that be a bad thing, too? Because I really want to kiss you and have wanted to for weeks. If that’s not what you want, if you don’t want me to kiss you, tell me to stop now.”

Her pulse hammered at her throat. Her breath warmed his skin in fast little pants. She swallowed hard. Her lips parted as if she was going to speak, but not a word came out of her mouth. Instead, her eyelids closed, and a thousand emotions flashed across her lovely face all at once.

Ever so slightly her chin relaxed against his fingertips. Her lips parted another fraction. Her eyes remained tightly closed. Her breathing deepened.

She wasn’t saying no. Her body language screamed, Yes. Oh, yes. He hadn’t been wrong.

She wanted him to kiss her.

Which meant what? That she was playing hard to get? That she was stringing him along? Toying with him as Ashley had done?

He started to pull away, to cut his losses and put Joni out of his mind, or at least try since he hadn’t had much luck up to that point. But her eyes opened and there was such vulnerability in their sea of green that he tumbled in.

Tumbled in and covered her mouth with his, not one bit surprised at the immediate explosion of sensation weakening his knees.

The moment Grant’s lips touched hers, Joni was lost.

Lost in wonder and excitement and awe.

His mouth brushed over hers with a feathery touch that was soft yet masterful. Gentle yet demanding. Hungry yet restrained. All Grant.

She didn’t understand his interest in her, not really, but his kiss was so sweet, so tender, so hot that she couldn’t pull away. Couldn’t do anything except embrace the emotions flooding through her at the simple joy of his mouth conquering hers.

Of their own accord her fingers found their way into the golden brown waves of his hair, pulling his head closer to deepen the kiss. Her hand flattened against his cheek, loving the smoothness that was broken only by the hint of late evening stubble. Loving how his long, lean body pressed against her, so strong, so capable, so absolutely delicious.

And the way he smelled. Oh, my!

She inhaled deeply, dragging in his masculine scent the way she’d wanted to when she’d bumped into him earlier. Never had a man smelled better. Or tasted better. Never.

She wanted to fill her senses with him, to let his intoxicating presence drug her to all reality.

Which had her taking a dazed step back. Only there was no where to go because she already pushed into the hand railing. Panic clogged her throat, widened her eyes, stiffened her body.

What was she doing? She started to ask herself a thousand questions, but Grant’s fingertip covered her lips. The gentle touch sent just as many shockwaves throughout her body as the taste of his lips had, as the feel of his strong body pressed against hers had, as the masculine musk of his scent had.

She wanted him. Right here, right now, in this elevator, she wanted him. That terrified her, made her feel out of control, something she’d sworn she’d never be again.

“Shh, don’t.”

Don’t? her mind screamed. Wasn’t it a little late for don’t? They had.

Now she knew what she really needed not to know.

That he was everything that cocky smile promised.

That where Grant was concerned, she was going to have to up her guard or she was going to fall for him whether she wanted to or not.

That she might have thought he was like Mark, but she’d been wrong. Grant made Mark look like kid’s play and the doctor she’d considered her future had tattered her heart and her whole life, almost pushed her into a well of despair that drowned her.

“Don’t over-think what just happened. Just enjoy the moment.” He flashed that lethal smile. The one that said he knew exactly what she was thinking, feeling, wanting, all of which involved him touching and kissing her a whole lot more. Enjoy the moment? Who was he kidding?

She geared up to blast him for having kissed her but before she made a single sound, she stopped.

How could she blast him? He hadn’t forced her. No, he’d given her opportunity to stop him, and she hadn’t. Instead, she’d closed her eyes and waited for him to kiss her.

Why hadn’t she stopped him?

He ran his thumb along her jaw, leaving a tingly trail of awareness, reminding her exactly why she hadn’t stopped him. Not that she’d known he had magic fingers, exactly, but chemistry had gotten the better of her.

“If not before, I’ll see you Friday night.”

She blinked, confusion adding to the mix of swirling emotions. “I’m not going out with you.” At his fading smile, she rushed on, “I’m sorry if I misled you by not telling you not to kiss me. I should have, but I …” What could she say? That she’d been curious? Full of desire for him? That she had a mile-long masochistic streak and after five years of celibacy he made her want to throw caution to the wind with a single kiss? “But nothing’s changed.” Everything had changed. His kiss had turned her world upside down and inside out. She’d never look at him again without recalling how he’d curled her toes with his kiss. “I don’t want to have a relationship with you outside our professional one at the hospital.”

She really didn’t want to have that one either. Too dangerous. She needed to stay far away from him. But unless she transferred out of the ICU, she’d have to deal with him on a regular basis. She loved working in ICU. She’d lost one job she loved because of a man, she wouldn’t lose another.

“I know.” But his eyes said otherwise, that her rejection confused him as much as he confused her. Probably just that he wondered how someone who was such a plain Jane would have the audacity to turn someone like him down. “I meant that I would see you at Hearts for Health on a non-date outing where we will both just happen to be,” he pointed out, all apparent innocence.

“Oh.” She searched his face for sarcasm, but only saw the ever-present twinkle in his eyes. The one that said he read minds and liked what she was thinking. He probably knew exactly the effect his kiss had had on her. Great.

He grinned and tweaked her nose. “Look, I’m sorry if I pushed more than I should have with the kiss, but I couldn’t help myself. You have that effect on me.” Another flash of the sexiest smile she’d ever seen. “I’ll behave Friday night. Just give me a chance to get you past whatever makes you think you shouldn’t go out with me. I promise I can change your mind.”

He couldn’t help himself? She had that effect on him? Hello, it wasn’t as if she was the kind of woman to inspire men to lose all control. If she had been interested in dating, she’d be thrilled at the interest he was showing.

Who was she trying to kid? Deep down, she was thrilled at his interest. She was also terrified. A lot of years had passed since she’d been interested in a man, since she’d been touched, since she’d felt anything for the opposite sex.

Maybe too many years.

She had forgotten how good a man’s touch felt.

Maybe she’d never known.

Had it felt that good when Mark had kissed her? Perhaps. She’d blocked the memories of her only lover for so long that she really couldn’t recall how she’d felt the first time he’d touched her, kissed her. There was too much pain tied up in those memories to let them flood in now, so she shoved them back wherever they’d been hidden away.

As far as Grant changing her mind, well, that was what worried her. Based on her reaction to his kiss, he could change her mind all too easily, and then what? She’d be left with the fallout, left to pick up the pieces of her broken life. No, thank you. She was in charge of her destiny, not her libido.

“I probably won’t even see you,” she admitted slowly, not looking at him, not wanting him to see the fear coursing through her veins. Predators sensed fear and used it to their advantage, right? Yet thinking of him as a predator didn’t quite fit. He had told her to tell him to stop if she didn’t want his kiss. She had wanted him to kiss her. That was the problem. “I’m working the cake walk.”

He grinned that smile that said he knew all and liked the power that came with it. She really should censor her thoughts around him—just in case.

“The cake walk? Imagine that. So am I.” His eyes sparkling with mischief, he kissed the tip of her nose. “Who says you can’t have your cake and eat it too?”

“How did you—?”

The elevator door slid open, interrupting her question.

Joni hadn’t even realized he’d removed his finger from the button, hadn’t even realized she was moving downward.

Had his kiss dazed her that much? Apparently.

She let him walk her to her car, let him open the door after she’d punched the unlock button on the key fob, let him close the door and watch her leave. All without another word.

All without admitting to herself that she hadn’t “let” Grant do a darned thing. He was a man who took what he wanted one way or another. For some crazy reason he wanted her.

Holy water, garlic, and crucifixes warded off vampires, but what did one use when needing to ward off the devil himself? Especially when he kissed as sinfully deliciously as Grant?

Joni held her patient’s hand while Grant pulled the tube free from the sixteen-year-old’s chest. Casts on his left arm and leg, both in traction, the young man grunted with his pain. He gritted his teeth, wanting to look tough in front of his parents, doctor, and nurse.

The boy had been in a car accident that had resulted in multiple fractures, crush injuries, and a collapsed lung. A surgeon had repaired a few internal bleeds and removed his spleen. An orthopedic surgeon had pinned his broken bones back together. Grant had been following the young man’s pulmonary status from the point he’d been admitted to the ICU. If his lung didn’t collapse again, he’d be transferred to the medical floor and sent home within a couple of days.

“You did great, Dale,” Grant assured the boy, closing the wound as Joni handed Grant a pair of suture scissors. He ran through listening to the boy’s lungs and assured himself there were breath sounds in all lung fields.

“Yes,” the boy’s mother praised, worry and fatigue from the past week’s events obvious in her expression and body. “You’re so brave.”

“Right.” Dale rolled his eyes, obviously embarrassed by her compliment.

Laughing, Grant patted the boy on the shoulder. “You are the man, Dale. Have your nurse page me if you get short of breath or have any negative change with your breathing.”

He spoke with the boy for a few more minutes, then left the hospital room. The boy’s parents followed him out, no doubt to corner him with questions.

Joni ran through another set of vital checks and made sure all the telemetry was still connected correctly. She reminded him what symptoms to watch for regarding his breathing, fractures, and other injuries, then left the room.

She wasn’t surprised to find Grant in the hallway.

Distracted by the boy’s parents, he seemed oblivious that she’d stepped out of the room. His navy scrubs hung loosely on his frame and he’d obviously raked his fingers through his hair a few times. Although barely seven a.m., he’d already been at the hospital for several hours, having gotten called in to the emergency room when a patient had gone into respiratory distress just prior to daybreak. No doubt he had an office full of patients waiting on him, too. Yet he answered each of the boy’s parents’ questions with admirable patience and a genuine smile.

He was a good doctor, gorgeous, kind, self-assured.

He’d kissed her.

She’d been fighting the thought from the moment she’d arrived at the hospital and learned he was already there.

No, truth was, she’d thought of nothing else the whole night. Even attending AA with her mother hadn’t distracted her. When she’d finally drifted into sleep, she’d dreamed of him. Dreamed of his lips tasting hers, conquering, taking, mastering. When she’d wakened, she hadn’t felt rested at all. She’d only felt restless, on edge, as if she’d been waiting for him, as if his kiss had awakened her and shot her to the precipice of the rest of her life.

Which was crazy.

She was no Sleeping Beauty and Grant was no Prince Charming. He had nothing to do with the rest of her life.

Once upon a time she’d believed in happily-ever-after. She’d been a wide-eyed innocent who’d believed the lies of a powerful man almost twice her age. Lies that had stolen her belief in fairy-tales, her self-respect, and had almost destroyed her life and career.

“Joni?”

She met Grant’s gaze, saw the question in his eyes. She shook her head, sent a quick smile to the boys’ parents, and went to check on another patient. A twenty-two-year-old who’d been in an MVA two nights before and had yet to regain consciousness.

“You okay?”

Not having realized that he’d followed her into the patient’s room, she spun, startled.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” His fingers brushed over her arm, eliciting thousands of goose-bumps.

Why was he always touching her?

“You don’t scare me.”

His lips twisted. “Actually, I think I do.”

“Oh, get over yourself. Not every woman wants you.” Clamping her lips closed, she cast a quick glance at her unconscious patient. She wanted the boy to wake up, to give her a reason to move away from Grant. A reason that he couldn’t mistake as fear.

“True,” he admitted. “But we’re not talking about every woman, are we? We’re talking about you.”

She glared, not liking him.

“Whether you’re willing to admit it or not, you do want me, Joni.” He smiled that smile that was really starting to get on her nerves. “And for reasons I don’t understand yet, I definitely scare you.”




CHAPTER THREE


“SO WHAT’S up with you and Dr. Take My Breath Away?”

Joni pretended not to hear Samantha’s question, just set down the box of cakes she’d made for the cake walk on the long table in the community room.

“Hello.” Samantha snapped her fingers in front of Joni’s face. “The man asked me all kinds of questions about you right down to where I thought he was going to have me sign an affidavit stating I was telling the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help me God. I’ve seen how you two look at each other and thought there was something there, but you never said anything so I thought maybe you just didn’t realize yet. Then he walked you to your car the other night and you’ve been tighter than a clam ever since. Best friend here.” She thumped her chest. “I want details. Lotsa details.”

Taking a red velvet cake out of the box, Joni found an empty spot on the table, then turned to her friend. “What makes you think there are lotsa details?”

“The fact that you’re being so evasive and blushing like the entire football team just saw you in your undies.”

“Well, it is a little warm in here.” She made a pretense of fanning her face.

“Right.” Samantha shivered and glanced around the mostly vacant community room. “I expect to see a group of penguins and a few polar bears go strolling by any moment there’s such a heat wave in this place. Brrrr.”

Okay, so her friend had a point. Due to expecting such a crowd, the thermostat had been set low to cool the building off prior to hundreds of warm bodies heating up the place.

Joni finished emptying the box and stooped to slide the box beneath the table. “You going to help me set up the cake walk?”

“I thought that was my job.”

Grant!

Samantha gave her a “you are so going to tell me everything later” look. “Yeah, I’m pretty sure it is. Besides, I’m needed at the ticket table. A lot of work setting that up, you know.”

“You need us to help you?” Grant offered, carefully putting the box he held on an empty spot on the table.

“I’ve got it covered.” Samantha shook her head, made eye contact with Joni and did an “I’m watching you” finger motion before leaving the community room to head towards the front of the building where tickets would be sold.

“This doesn’t start for almost an hour, you know,” Joni pointed out as she watched her friend bail on her for the second time that week. Some best friend.

“I know. I came to help with set-up.” He pulled out several home-made cakes that had Joni’s mouth watering. Wow. How many little old ladies had he hit up for that stash?

She eyed him suspiciously. “Did you know I was helping with set-up?”

Not looking one bit ashamed, he grinned. “Would you believe a little birdie told me?”

“Ha. I’d believe a big birdie told you.” Her gaze went toward where Samantha had just disappeared through the double doors.

He laughed. “I can’t let Samantha take the blame for this one. Brooke in Admissions told me.”

“Brooke?” Joni shook her head. Just how many of her friends had he talked to? “Do I have no friends?”

“Oh, you have lots of friends. They all think you are a great nurse, a great person, although a bit of a control freak. You like your privacy and have no romantic life that any of them are aware of.”

Joni’s jaw dropped. “They told you all that?”

“What can I say? Apparently, they like me.”

Good thing she didn’t have enemies.

“They don’t know you like I do,” she quipped.

“True,” he admitted, taking the last of the cakes out of the box and arranging it just so on the table. “And you don’t know me anywhere near as well as you’re going to. Now, where do we start?”

Joni started to argue with him that she didn’t want to know him better, but what was the point? He would just flash that smile of his and keep right on going.

“Fine,” she acquiesced, just ready to get this enforced time with him done and over with. “Carry this box over to the middle of that section and we’ll lay out our cake-walk squares. I checked earlier and all twenty-four squares are there. We just have to get them laid out in an eye-pleasing way.”

“Eye-pleasing, eh?”

“Grant—”

“I know, I know, get to work. Such a control-freak slave-driver.” He picked up the box and began doing her bidding one cake-walk square at a time while she pretended not to notice how his jeans hugged his behind and thighs in a way that made her want to moan.

Great. Just shoot her now, because tonight was going to be a long, torturous night.

Punching the Play button on the old-fashioned boombox being used for the cake walk’s sound system, Grant grinned at his cute assistant who held the container full of numbered cards.

Apparently loving the festivities, Joni had been smiling all evening. Well, all except for when she looked directly at him.

Then she frowned. But only a few times since he’d first arrived and caught her off guard. Good, he liked catching her off guard because then she didn’t have time to slide that masked expression into place.

Not that she’d masked her expression much tonight.

Whether she wanted to admit it or not, she was having fun. A lot of fun. With him.

So was he. With her.

How long since he’d felt this attracted to a woman? This relaxed? Years, thanks to Ashley. Why had he let her take over his life so? Well, he knew why. Staying with her had been easier than dealing with the drama of breaking up.

But sometimes love wasn’t enough. In Ashley’s case that had held true. Or maybe he hadn’t been enough. Definitely not enough to keep her away from the demons that drove her.

Grant pulled his mind back to the present, determined not to let the past drag him down, not tonight. Not ever again. He’d moved to Bean’s Creek to make a new start. He’d needed to make a fresh start. He had, right down to meeting Joni and knowing he wanted more than just a co-worker relationship with her. Knowing he wanted more than just friendship with her but proceeding with caution because he didn’t want to end up right back in a similar relationship he’d been in with Ashley.

What he wanted was to peel off those snug jeans and kiss his way down the curve of Joni’s hips, the lushness of her thighs, the tonedness of her calves, right down to the arch of her foot. Was she ticklish? Would she squirm free from his embrace, giggling and retaliating with touches and kisses of her own? Or would she simply moan in pleasure?

He closed his eyes, swallowed. Hard. If he didn’t get his mind on the job at hand and off Joni, he was going to be hard. He was about halfway there already. More than halfway.

“Grant?”

His gaze went to Joni’s expectant one. She was so beautiful, so full of verve, so tempting. “Hmm?”

Brows drawn tight, she gave him a pointed look. “Don’t you think the music has gone long enough this round?”

Grant grimaced. He’d forgotten to stop the music. The cake walkers had been circling around the numbered squares for God only knew how long. He covered his slip with a grin. “I was building the suspense.”

“It’s built.” She sounded breathy, and his gaze dropped to where her sweater hugged her full chest. Never in his life had he been jealous of a shirt, but tonight he’d like to be wrapped around Joni. When he’d first arrived, the room had been cold and she’d been at high attention, had captured his notice and his imagination. Flashes of sliding his hands beneath her sweater, tweaking those taunt peaks, cupping those generous breasts, had been teasing him all evening.

“And,” she continued, oblivious to how he wanted to drag her beneath the table full of cakes and nibble his way around her body, “Mrs. Lehew is about to need to replace her portable oxygen tank if she has to make another lap.”

If he kept staring at Joni’s tight little sweater, he was going to need portable oxygen himself.

“You might be right.” He pressed the button to pause the music, pointed to the basket of numbered cards for Joni to draw out a winner. “Have at it.”

“Number eleven,” she called, casting him another odd look, before smiling sweetly at the seven—or eight-year-old snaggle-toothed boy who was jumping up and down on the number eleven block. Instantly, Grant had visions of Joni jumping up and down on the square, of her sweater outlining her breasts as they bounced and jiggled and beckoned to him. His jeans grew tighter. Too tight. Any moment he was going to lose all circulation in the lower half of his body.

Immediately after the young boy claimed his prize, Joni called for the crowd’s attention, again. “Since Dr. Bradley got a little carried away by the music …” she sent him a sugary smile “… stay on your squares, because we’re going to pick another winner.” She reached into the basket and pulled out another card. “Number fourteen.”

“Mrs. Lehew.” Despite his uncomfortable jeans, Grant laughed. “You sure you didn’t rig that win, Nurse Joni?”

At her impish grin, he realized she’d done exactly that.

“Call it preventative medicine because the poor woman really can’t manage any more trips around the cake walk. I didn’t know how she was going to manage to begin with, but then you made her go even longer despite the fact she was slowing down the entire procession.”

He really hadn’t picked a good time to zone out with thoughts about Joni and leave the cake walkers going round and round. But the smile on Mrs Lehew’s face said if she’d minded in the slightest, she no longer did.

“Maybe since she won a cake she’ll sit out the remaining walks because if not,” Joni mused, “we’re going to have to find a designated walker for her.”

“Or a wheelchair.”

The ecstatic obese woman with severe chronic obstructive pulmonary disease excitedly took Joni’s hand. “Oh, thank you. Thank you. I can’t believe this. I never win.”

“Well, you did tonight. Congratulations. Here’s your cake, Mrs. Lehew.” She handed the woman a chocolate-frosted cake from the long table still loaded with donated goodies.

“You know,” Grant mused, scratching his chin with a feigned thoughtful look, “it’s a good thing I’m her pulmonologist and not her endocrinologist or I’d have to protest that cake.”

“Good thing,” Joni agreed, responding to his teasing with a slight lifting of her mouth at the corners. “Then again, maybe she wanted to win the cake for her grandchildren or maybe she just wanted to do the cake walk to support a really good cause.”

“We can tell ourselves that.”

Joni’s lips twitched. “But you’re not buying it?”

“Not after her last hospital admission and seeing how well controlled her sugar was when she didn’t have easy access to snacks and junk food.”

Looking as if she might tackle the elderly woman and wrestle the cake from her, Joni glanced toward Mrs. Lehew.

Sorry he’d mentioned the woman’s uncontrolled diabetes, Grant touched Joni’s hand. “It’s okay. I learned a long time ago that you can’t control what others do to themselves. You can only encourage them to do the right thing and hope they are paying attention.” So maybe saying he’d learned that lesson a long time ago was stretching the truth, but he had learned. Eventually. “If she wants cake, she’s going to have cake regardless of whether or not she wins one here.” He squeezed Joni’s hand, wanting to see her face light up with a smile again, wanting the sense of camaraderie, albeit precarious, they’d shared while doling out cakes to continue. “Besides, that one is for her grandkids.”

Nodding resignedly, Joni gave him what appeared to be an appreciative smile. “Sure it is. If she ends up in the emergency room tonight with a five hundred blood sugar, I’m going to feel as if I put her there.”

“No need for that. Look.” Grant gestured in the direction the woman had headed and Joni’s gaze followed suit. Mrs. Lehew was sitting at a table with three small children clamoring to get a better look at her prize. They were calling her Granny and tugging on her sleeves.

“Oh, you’re good,” she praised with a hint of sarcasm.

“I know.” When Joni’s gaze met his, he winked. “Oh, you meant because of Mrs. Lehew? What? You mean you didn’t believe me?” He tsked. “Shame. Shame.”

But rather than correct him or slap him down, she just gave a resigned sigh and turned back to the cake walkers.

They collected the tickets from the next group in line, then Grant restarted the music and turned to her.

“You’ll find that I am many things, Joni, but you can take what I tell you to the bank.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning that when I tell you how I’ve thought of little else except kissing you again, that I want to kiss you again, you can believe it’s the truth.”

“I don’t doubt that you want to kiss me again.”

She didn’t sound happy about the prospect, though. Not exactly the reaction he’d hoped for. He wanted her to quit fighting the attraction between them and admit she wanted him too. He wanted whatever had her running scared to fade into the background and for her to embrace the chemistry between them. Still, she wasn’t saying no.

“That confident that you were that good?” he teased.

“No, you are the one who just commented about how good you are, remember?” She shook the basket of numbered cards. “I’m just that confident that you see me as a challenge, and that’s why you’re so determined to pursue me,” she countered. “But I’m not a challenge, Grant. I’m a real person with real feelings. I don’t want to be hurt.”

Grant started to speak, but she leaned over and punched the Pause button, killing the music and effectively drawing all eyes to them. Without another glance his way, she pulled out a card. “Number nineteen.”

Why did Grant keep looking at her as if he wanted to peel off her clothes and take a bite? Joni bit the inside of her lip, wondering if she was going to gnaw a hole right through if she didn’t stay away from a certain doctor. She’d accused him of seeing her as a challenge because that was what her brain had decided was the logical conclusion. Was that why he kept coming back for more of her pushing him away?

No, truth was, she was beginning to think he really liked her. The more she thought about it, the more likable he was, too. For all his cockiness, he was just as likely to say something self-deprecating to make her smile. Why, oh, why, did he have to be so likeable on top of how completely hunky he was? After all, she was only a mortal woman. How was she supposed to resist his allure when everything about him appealed?

She did her best to ignore him for the rest of their cake-walk stint. Not an easy thing when they were working to keep the cake walk going, but she did manage to avoid any more private talk.

A few minutes prior to the end, Vann and Samantha got into the cakewalk line.

“If I don’t win, you are in so-o-o much trouble,” Samantha teased, handing Joni her ticket and casting a questioning gaze toward Grant. She gave Joni two thumbs-ups. Puh-leeze. Even her best friend was matchmaking. Spare her.

Besides, she was irked at Samantha for bailing twice. And for telling Grant no telling what.

Ignoring Samantha’s go-for-it sign, Joni shrugged. “Sorry, sugarplum.” She never used endearments so this got a giggle out of her friend. “But your odds are the same as everyone else’s. One out of twenty-four.”

“I’ll take those odds. Especially since Vann bought our tickets.” Samantha patted his arm, keeping her hand on his biceps. Her friend usually insisted on paying her equal share, so the fact she’d let Vann pay was significant. Vann didn’t look impressed. Actually, he looked irked, too.

Joni shot a curious gaze back and forth between the two, but Samantha just borrowed one from Joni’s book and shrugged.

“Hey, Vann, you expecting special favors, too?” Joni asked, giving her friendliest smile and hoping to ease whatever strain was in the air.

Stepping out of Samantha’s hold, he nodded. “Samantha wants cake, so let her eat cake. Lord forbid, she doesn’t get everything she wants right when she wants it. To hell with the rest of the world.”

Joni forced a laugh at his quip, hoping to ease the tension jetting back and forth between her two dear friends. Unfortunately, Samantha was now glaring at her boyfriend. Surely he hadn’t proposed again tonight? Vann proposals were always followed by a fight, which was usually followed by making up and then another few months of the status quo before they repeated the process all over again. Eventually, Vann was going to tire of Samantha’s refusals. But, for now, apparently he was hopeful enough that he’d change her mind to keep sticking it out. Either that or he liked their make-up ritual.

As far as Joni was concerned, Dr. Vann Winton was the sole good guy left in the world. Then again, he was a cardiologist so maybe he naturally had more heart.

Having finished collecting the rest of the tickets, Grant joined them.

“Vann.” Samantha stepped forward. “This is Dr. Bradley, the pulmonologist I was telling you about. He’s a miracle worker in the ICU. I’ve seen him yank patients back from the other side on more than one occasion. I swear he must have made a pact with God somewhere along the way.” Then she waggled her brows and said a bit too brightly, “Or with the someone who hails from down below. Pun intended.”

Joni couldn’t argue Samantha’s point. Hadn’t she often wondered if Grant was really the devil himself?

Vann eyed Grant warily, making Joni question just what her friend had said about Grant in private. Still, polite as always, he stuck out his hand. “Dr. Vann Winton. I practice in Winston-Salem. Nice to meet you.”

Grant whistled. “I’ve heard of you. I enjoyed that article you wrote about the promising beneficial effects of Tracynta on the treatment of pulmonary hypertension.”

Vann’s expression changed and if they’d had time, the two men would have launched into a conversation about whatever the article had said. Interesting. Vann usually took a while to warm up to strangers, but with one comment Grant had won him over to the dark side. Joni almost sighed. Maybe the man’s appeal wasn’t limited to little old ladies and nurses.

Samantha and Vann took their places on the numbered squares. Using the microphone, Grant briefly explained the rules to this round’s walkers. When Joni called out the winning number, Samantha didn’t win.

Vann did.

His lips curved in a smile. With wry amusement, he handed the cake over to an ecstatic Samantha, then he looked at Joni. “What did I tell you? If she wants cake, I give the woman cake.”





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