by Jill Shalvis
She dreamed. She would have thought she’d be haunted by the blood of her second surgery that day. A patient had burst an artery and by the time she’d gotten everything under control she’d been standing in a sea of red.
But blessedly she’d left that behind at the hospital. Instead, in dreamland, she was two years old again, and memorizing the book of presidents her parents had kept on the coffee table. For fun, she’d recite them backwards to her hotshot, know-it-all sisters Annie and Emma.
It had been their first inkling that Nicole was going to be different.
The dream shifted and she was six, helping Emma with her seventh-grade algebra.
At twelve, she’d helped Annie with her PSAT testing. A genius, were the whispers around her. Off-the-scale IQ, they said. A prodigy.
At twelve, Nicole should have been into lip gloss, pop bands and boys. Instead she’d been fascinated by science. She operated on frogs. She dissected bugs.
Yet kids her own age remained a mystery to her, a complete mystery.
And now that she was grown up, she was still different. She should have learned to deal with others by now. Learned to be a social creature, well rounded and defined.
But the reality was that she’d rarely dated and had no idea how to do anything but heal. It was what she was. Who she was. A doctor.
Nothing else.
So why did the next dream involve one tall, dark and sexy Irish architect with a killer smile and eyes that made her yearn for something completely out of her reach?
Turning over, she sank back into an exhausted and dreamless slumber.
“WAKE UP, Nicole, you’re scaring me.”
Nicole snuggled more deeply beneath her covers. “Go away, Mom, I don’t have school today.”
“I had better not look anything like a woman old enough to be your mother.”
Nicole jerked her eyes open, heart pounding. Okay, good, she was home. The sun was shining again, how annoying.
And Taylor sat on her bed, looking as stunningly beautiful and elegant as ever.
With a groan, Nicole shut her eyes again. “I didn’t help you with the engagement party plans, right?”
“No, but I forgive you because you’re going to reschedule. I brought you breakfast.”
Nicole smelled something delicious. She cracked open an eye and saw a tray filled with mouthwatering food.
“I should tell you—as if you couldn’t guess—I didn’t cook this. Suzanne’s catering a big brunch this morning and made this up for us. You frightened the hell out of me, not answering your door. You never even heard me calling for you like a banshee, and we all know I don’t like to sound like a banshee. Who sleeps like that?”
Nicole blinked. “Well…”
“You’ve overworked yourself again, haven’t you? Nicole, honey, that’s just plain bad for you.”
Nicole closed her eyes, rendered stupid by this display of concern. Maybe if she was really still, Taylor would vanish. A figment of her imagination.
“Not much of a morning person,” came an amused male voice from the other side of the room.
If Nicole had thought her heart had raced at the sight of Taylor in her bedroom, it went off the scale now. Even after their very brief encounter, she recognized that slightly Irish voice, she recognized it immediately. And if it brought a series of shivers down her spine that she couldn’t attribute to a morning chill, she could shove the reaction aside in favor of temper. “What the hell—”
“Now before you get all pissy at me…” Taylor put a hand over Nicole’s chest, pushing her back. “Let me explain.”
Nicole could take Taylor down any day of the week. Her workouts, when she could fit them in, guaranteed that.
The only exercise Taylor ever did was lifting and setting down her hairbrush. Oh, and her lipstick.
No, what held Nicole back from wrapping her fingers around Taylor’s neck was one tiny little detail.
She slept in the nude.
Which meant that in order to kick Taylor’s ass, she’d have to get out of bed.
Naked.
“Why is he in here?” she settled for asking between her teeth while clutching the sheet to her chest.
From his perch holding up her wall, Ty’s gaze zoomed in on her—a very blue gaze that was lit with amusement, curiosity and plenty more—and for just a flash in time, she lost her train of thought.
Taylor craned her neck and looked up at the tall, dark, ridiculously gorgeous man. “You’ve met?”
“You could say that,” Nicole said.
“Oh, good, because I’m thinking of hiring him to fix up the building, which apparently is about to fall off its axis. Not,” she added quickly, “that you need to worry about it, I’m getting it all fixed pronto.”
“Taylor.” Nicole rubbed her temples. “The point. Get to the point. Why is he here? Specifically, in my bedroom.”
“Well, I was standing there in the hallway yelling for you, and beginning to freak out when you didn’t answer, when he offered to break in since I didn’t have my keys on me. He’s not only an excellent architect, he’s quite the handyman.”
“Let me guess,” Nicole said dryly, watching Ty smile at her from behind Taylor’s back. “He got in with a credit card?”
“Why, yes. A handy little trick, don’t you think?”
“Hmm.” Nicole narrowed her eyes at the ease he displayed standing there in her bedroom. As if he belonged.
But no one, especially a man, belonged in her bedroom, no matter how good he looked in a light-blue chambray shirt shoved up past his forearms, and a pair of jeans that made her hormones stand up and quiver. “Is the credit card trick something you picked up in Ireland?” she asked.
“Why ever would you think that?” he asked innocently.
As if he’d ever been innocent. “Because I hear it in your voice.”
“That’s the English, luv,” he said, pushing lazily away from the wall, coming close enough to peruse the tray from Suzanne. Then, picking up a piece of toast, his gaze tracked over Nicole from head to toe, and back again, making every single atom in her body leap to attention. Sinking his teeth into the bread, he chewed a moment, then licked the butter off his finger with a sucking sound that caused an answering tug in Nicole’s nipples for some annoying reason. “Went there for a while,” he said.
“Thought it was Scotland.”
Leaning in, he put the toast to her lips, pressing until she had no choice but to open and take a bite. “There, too,” he said lightly, making her take yet another bite, his thumb stroking across her bottom lip at a dab of misplaced butter. “And also Australia, if you’re interested in keeping track.”
She felt the touch all the way to her toes and back up, and at all sorts of other interesting spots along the way. It didn’t help that her eyes were level with a most erotic spot on his body—the juncture between his thighs—and the intriguing bulge there.
“I had to make sure you were okay,” Taylor said, picking up a piece of peach from the tray. “I’m sorry for the invasion, but you’ve done nothing but work since you moved in here, and you sleep like the dead.”
Ty let out another innocent smile. “And you talk to yourself while doing it.”
Nicole opened her mouth, but Taylor stuffed the peach into it. At the explosion of sweet nectar in her mouth, she sputtered.
“That was a piece of fruit,” Taylor said. “I realize you might not recognize it, given that it’s actually one of the important food groups and not purchased from a drive-through.”
“Taylor—”
“You’re going to kill yourself this way,” Taylor said softly, her eyes showing their worry. “It’s not right. Promise me you’ll eat all of this mountain of food. The eggs, the sausage, the toast, the fruit, everything.”
Nicole sighed. “I never had a landlord care what I put inside my body before.”
Taylor went still, then brushed the crumbs off her hands. “Is that all I am?”
Nicole looked
into Taylor’s eyes, saw the hurt added to the worry, and flopped back to stare up at the ceiling. “This is why I don’t socialize.”
Taylor stood a little stiffly, when the elegant Taylor was never stiff. “I’m sorry. I’ll go. Just make sure Suzanne gets her tray back—”
Nicole reached out and grabbed her wrist. “Look…I’m the sorry one.”
“No need.”
Nicole sighed at the cool hurt lingering in Taylor’s face and tugged on her wrist until she sat back at her side. “I’m an idiot, all right? An idiot who doesn’t know how to…have friends.”
“So we are friends?”
“You know we are. Unless you shove any more fruit down my throat.”
“In that case…” Taylor spread her silk skirt carefully and made herself comfortable on the bed before reaching for a piece of toast. “There’s enough here to feed an army. Ty, some sausage? Don’t be shy, hon, Suzanne is so nervous about her upcoming nuptials that she’s overcooking to compensate.”
“Taylor,” Nicole said in a warning voice that turned into a squeak when Ty suddenly joined them.
On the bed.
His long denim-covered legs brushed hers. There were the covers between them, but given the electric zap she felt at the brush of his warm, hard body, and given the way the current continued to run through her, there weren’t enough covers in all of South Village to keep between them.
And then there was how her heart gave a little leap when he turned his head and pierced her with those amazing eyes of his.
Instant lust. She’d heard about it but had never experienced the phenomenon firsthand.
She didn’t like it.
Gripping the sheet to her chest for all it was worth, Nicole watched as her two uninvited houseguests helped themselves to the tray of food balancing on her knees.
It was an unreal feeling having Ty’s long fingers hover over the plate only inches from her very naked body as he decided on a slice of apple.
It crunched between his white teeth as he looked at her.
Unreal, she decided, and definitely…arousing, if the way her body tingled was any indication. “I…need to get up.”
Taylor used the fork to bite into the homemade hash browns, then moaned. “Oh, these. These are to die for. Ty?”
Leaning in, he opened his mouth to the forkful Taylor was offering him.
“Fabulous, right?” Taylor said as he chewed.
He licked his lips, and for an instant, as he looked at Nicole, something hot and dangerous flashed in his eyes. “Oh yeah.”
“More?” Taylor asked. “A man your size, who works as hard as you do, needs to keep up his strength.”
Still gripping the sheet, Nicole grated her teeth. “I really need to— Hey!” she said around the bite of warm hash browns Ty shoved into her mouth. And not too gently either. She had to open quickly and use her tongue to keep from spilling them down her front.
His electric-blue eyes never left hers. She would have opened her mouth and blistered him if she hadn’t had it so full of the food. And oh man, the food. Heaven.
Not that she was going to admit it. “I don’t eat breakfast,” she said, trying not to moan in pleasure as the food started to hit her stomach. “Just—”
“Coffee,” Ty finished for her, bending so close his lips almost brushed hers. “We’ve heard. It’s here.” She could feel his body heat, the warm breath that caused goose bumps to skitter down her side. “You’re going to give yourself ulcers the way you eat.” He tsked. “And you claim to be a doctor.”
“Oh, I definitely like you,” Taylor said to Ty, who grinned at her. “We can tag-team her. I know you like to move around a lot, but I don’t suppose after this job you’d stay on and reprogram my friend here?”
“I really have to get up,” Nicole said, jaw clenched. “So if you could…” She gestured to the door.
“Go ahead.” Ty’s eyes were lit with the dare. “Get up.”
Nicole thought about how very naked she was under her sheet and gripped it tighter to her chest. She’d never been shy, had never felt anything but comfortable in her own skin. This came from years of no privacy in a tiny house with too many family members, then college dorms, and more recently, the locker area at work, which wasn’t much bigger or more private than her bedroom happened to be at the moment. But in front of this man, she suddenly felt…inadequate. He was red-blooded, through and through. She figured she knew his type; big boobs and breeding hips, with lots of hair to drape over his chest, that’s what he’d want.
Her virtual opposite.
Not that she cared. She just didn’t plan to flaunt her small boobs and small hips anywhere near him.
Then, from across the small bedroom, under a mountain of clothes and more medical journals on a chair, came the unmistakable sound of her beeper going off.
Taylor held out her hand to keep Nicole in bed. “It’s your day off.”
“I can’t just ignore it.” But it was a shame she hadn’t piled more clothes on top of the beeper before last night. A few more days’ worth and no one could have possibly heard the thing go off. “Okay, fun’s over. You guys did good, you fed me. Now get lost.”
“Nicole,” Taylor said sternly, still sitting on the bed. “Do not get that pager.”
Nicole turned to Ty, whose daring, smiling gaze had never left hers. “I have to.”
“Sure you do, darlin’.” He lifted an inviting hand. “Go right ahead, if it’s meaning that much to you.”
“You have to move first.”
Generous to a fault, he scooted down on the bed a tad, giving her enough room to leave the bed if she so desired. “Go on now.”
With as much dignity as she could muster, which wasn’t much, she grabbed the sheet and held on to it for dear life as she slid from the bed. Standing was a bit tricky, but she wrapped the sheet around her so fast her head nearly spun. Surely no one had gotten a glimpse of anything. Still, she didn’t quite dare to look back and catch a peek at Ty’s face as she headed, chin thrust high, toward the chair.
She had to shove the medical journals and clothes to the floor to verify, but yep, it was work.
“Don’t tell me.” Taylor stood up. “You’re going in. You’re hopeless, you know that?” With a dramatic sigh, she headed toward the door. “But we’ll be there, Nicole, if you fall.”
“We?”
“Suzanne and I, of course. Ornery as you are, you’ll need us to stick by you. So go. Go work yourself to exhaustion again. Enjoy.”
“I will, thanks.” Half amused at the genuine compassion and worry that she’d seen on Taylor’s face, she turned back to face Ty. “Don’t let the door get you on the ass on your way out. I’m taking a shower.”
“Maybe you’d better take your caffeine with you.” He held out a mug of coffee.
“Thanks.” Grateful but not about to admit it, Nicole held on to the sheet for dear life and hobbled into the bathroom. She shut the door harder than she should have, and clicked the lock into place with what sounded like a gunshot.
She might have had to wake up with an audience, then eat with one, but hell if she’d shower in front of one, no matter how pretty he was.
Still, the hot steam worked wonders, and she stayed there for a good long time, until the hot water turned warm, then tepid. Finally, she stepped out and sighed.
Damn, she’d been looking forward to a day off.
There was one dry towel left on the rack, which meant she needed to seriously consider the pile of things behind her bedroom door as well as the pile now on her floor, both of which she so lovingly referred to as Laundry Mountain Range. Tucking the towel beneath her armpits, she studied herself impassively in the mirror.
Not bad, she’d give herself that. And though she’d prefer to be taller than so damn short, her bones weren’t bad either. Thanks to her workouts, she was a lean, mean, fighting machine.
But breasts would have been nice.
Laughing at herself, she turned away. What w
ould she have done with cleavage? It wasn’t as if she had dates lining up.
Still smiling, she opened the door and marched into her bedroom, dropping her towel as she went.
Because she had excellent eyesight, she therefore had a front-and-center view of Ty sitting on her bed, holding a glass of orange juice.
He had a front-and-center view, too. Of her.
The glass slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor in tune with her shriek as she bent down for her towel. “What are you doing?”
“I…”
Straightening, she studiously avoided looking into his face as she refastened the towel. “I thought you left!”
“Yeah, I…”
“You said that already!”
Ty knew that, but he was still flummoxed by the sight of her tight, lean body all dewy and damp from her shower. Standing now, he wasn’t reassured by the fact his knees wobbled.
What was wrong with him? She wasn’t his usual type, meaning stacked and blond and soft. There was nothing soft about Nicole, not her tough, angular body, not her voice, and most definitely not her eyes.
So why couldn’t he stop thinking dirty little thoughts? Or take his eyes off her? “Sorry. I just wanted to be sure you at least drank some juice.”
“Can’t do that now, can I?” With jerky movements, she tightened the towel even further over her breasts.
Breasts that he now knew were a perfect handful, tipped with tight rose-colored nipples. Somehow he managed to walk to her, lift her chin and look into her furious and…damn it, very embarrassed, eyes. “I’m sorry,” he repeated softly.
“Yeah.”
He gazed at her grim mouth, and unbidden, his thoughts turned to kissing her until she was soft and pliant, until she sighed and gave herself over to him and the pleasure he could give her. He, Ty Patrick O’Grady, no-good bastard, black-heart. “You should know I’m attracted to you in a way I can’t quite seem to get over.”
“And yet you’ve seen me naked. Imagine that.”
She didn’t believe him. He sucked in a breath and inhaled the scent of her shampoo and ridiculously, his body reacted.