Larry grunted. "You don't want to know."
Derek stared at his brother, fighting the urge to ask for more details. With Larry, if you asked for details, you always ended up knowing more than you wanted to about things you couldn't change anyway.
"Well," Larry said. "Do I get to come in?"
Derek stepped past his brother and opened the door, then went around the small living area, flipping on lights.
Larry headed for the sofa, where he flopped down and stretched out. "How 'bout a beer?"
Derek got a couple of cold ones from the fridge, passed one to his brother and sat in the chair opposite him.
Larry guzzled the beer, belched into a fist, then looked around. "Nice." He tipped his dark head and wrinkled his brow in an expression that reminded Derek of their father. "But you're not exactly livin' large, huh?"
Derek shrugged. "I'm doing okay."
"Well, in a few years you will be, right?"
"Yeah, in a few years."
"You get that big Suburban you were always sayin' you would buy for yourself, as soon as you got your first real job?"
Derek nodded. "Bet on it."
"So you're not strapped or anything, right?"
Derek knew what was coming. No reason to put it off. He asked, "Why? You need a loan?"
Larry chuckled. "Well, little brother, now that you mention it…"
When Derek woke the next morning, Larry was gone. But he'd expected that. Once Larry got what he came for, he always moved right along. "No flies on Larry," their father, Mack Taylor, used to say, back before he succumbed to a non-Hodgkin's lymphoma, which he'd refused to have looked at until it was way too late.
Derek straightened the small second bedroom where Larry had slept, stripping the sheets from the bed, tossing them into the washer and carrying the empty beer cans to the recycling bin under the kitchen sink. Then he ate his breakfast, showered, got dressed and headed for the clinic. He told himself that things could be worse. Larry had come and gone. And he was only out another five hundred bucks.
But then he thought of Lee. He scowled.
He did not look forward to dealing with her all day.
In her little house on Hawthorne Way
, Lee woke feeling groggy and apprehensive. She'd spent the night reliving the moment when Derek had told her he knew she was attracted to him.
As well as the moment when he'd said that he was attracted to her.
And then, there was the moment when he'd told her he wanted to go out with her.
Not to mention the moment when she had told him no.
So many moments to agonize over. No wonder she'd hardly slept at all. And now that it was morning, she had to face the prospect of working with him all day. She watered her philodendron and ate cornflakes for breakfast and told herself firmly that everything would be all right.
She and Dr. Taylor were professionals. It might seem awkward for a while, but they'd concentrate on work and treat each other in a strictly businesslike manner. Soon enough, they'd forget all about what had happened last night.
Lee had just taken a seat at one of the two computers in the small nurses' station around the corner from the front desk when Derek came in at nine. She caught sight of him as he went past on the way to his office at the end of the hall, where he would shrug off his sport jacket and pull on his lab coat as he did every morning.
She looked up and ordered a smile onto her face. "Good morning, Dr. Taylor."
He stopped. He turned. He looked straight at her. "Lee." He didn't sound friendly. And he certainly didn't smile. It was an acknowledgment, and nothing more. As soon as he'd given it, he stalked down the hall and disappeared into his office.
Lee stared after him, feeling snubbed—and worried. Had that been a sample of how her colleague and immediate supervisor would be treating her from now on? If so, it was not acceptable. And she should tell him as much.
Before she could talk herself out of it, Lee stood from her chair. She marched down the hall. When she reached the door to his small office, she knocked sharply.
After an endless ten or fifteen seconds, the door swung open. He scowled at the sight of her. If looks could kill, she'd be coding for certain. "What is it?"
She wanted to cringe and run. But she didn't. She spoke calmly. Firmly. "I'd like a word with you."
His lab coat dangled from one hand. He swung it over his shoulder and shoved his arms into it, then flipped the collar in place and settled his stethoscope more comfortably around his neck. "I have work to do. So do you."
Lee made herself stand taller. "This won't take more than a minute or two."
He glared at her some more. And then, at last, he stepped back. "Come in, then."
She did. But the space was very small. As he closed the door, his arm brushed her shoulder.
It was insane. Just that one quick, accidental touch sent ridiculous pops of sensation snapping along every synapse Lee possessed. And then there was the smell of that aftershave of his. And the warm, clean scent of his skin.
He'd already closed the door. He had no need to remain so close to her. But he didn't step back. He looked at her and she looked back at him. And somehow, through the sudden absurd sensual fog that seemed to have risen up out of the floor and surrounded them, she admitted her error. She shouldn't have come in here; the space was too small and he smelled too good.
"What is it, Lee?" His voice was low. There was anger in it. And something else, something soft. Something way too intimate.
She flattened herself against the wall, her head hitting the frame of one of the documents that hung there. She had no idea which one. There were so many. Maybe the one that proclaimed him a bona fide family care physician. Or perhaps the one that said he'd graduated with honors from U.C. Davis. Then again, maybe it was the one that declared him a member of the Honeygrove Physicians' Association.
"I'm waiting," he said, still in that low, caressing tone.
"Could you, er, step back a little? Please?"
For a heartbeat or two, he didn't budge. And then he was moving away, around the corner of the desk that took up most of the limited space, to the swivel armchair behind it. He dropped into the chair.
Lee drew in a breath she hadn't even realized she needed and edged into the nearest of the two consulting chairs. She sat. They faced each other across the spotless expanse of the desk.
"Well?" he asked.
She forced herself to begin. "Look. I want you to know that I'm really sorry, for the misunderstanding last night. You were right, about me."
"Oh, really?"
"Yes. I did behave strangely. I'm afraid that you took me completely by surprise. I honestly hadn't thought that you had any personal interest in me at all."
"You hadn't?" He seemed to sneer the words.
She refused to descend to his level. She kept her voice even and sincere. "No, I had not."
He made a low, disbelieving sort of sound.
She forged on. "Dr. Taylor, as I told you, I really don't believe in dating anyone I work with."
"I got that. Loud and clear."
"No, seriously."
"I'm perfectly serious."
"Just let me have my say."
He stared off at all those framed credentials on the wall behind her chair. "Fine. Go on."
"Well, I mean, if I had agreed to go out with you, we could tell each other that we wouldn't allow our relationship to affect our work, but these are feelings we'd be talking about. You can't make agreements about feelings."
"Maybe you can't."
"Oh, come on. Be honest."
"I am."
"Dr. Taylor. Think about what would happen when it's over."
He stopped staring at the wall over her head and actually focused those cold eyes on her. "Why should I think about that, Lee? This is all hypothetical anyway. Something that isn't going to happen, as you made perfectly clear last night. In fact, I really think it's inappropriate for the two of us to be closeted in my office discussing a non
existent relationship when there are patients out there requiring medical attention."
She raised both hands, palms out. "All right. Fine. I get the message." He started to stand. She gulped in a breath. "One last thing, though."
He settled back with an impatient sigh. "What?"
"I want you to know that, if I've stared at you in the past, I promise you, I will not be staring at you anymore." She waited, hoping he might say something remotely congenial. But he didn't. He went on looking at her, his eyes hard and his jaw tightly clenched.
She wrapped it up. "Look, I just want to do my job and let you do yours and … get along. And I hope we can find our way back to the pleasant working relationship we had before."
Another awful, endless silence descended. At last, he asked, "Is that all?"
"Well. Yes. I suppose it is."
He stood. "Fine, then. I'd like a pleasant working relationship, too. I'm sure we can manage that."
You don't look very pleasant, she wanted to say. But what good would that do, beyond inviting him to sneer at her some more? "Okay, then." She rose to her feet. "I'll just … get back to work."
"An excellent idea." The words were innocuous, but not the tone.
She opened her mouth to retort. And then shut it before anything angry could get out. The whole point here, she reminded herself, was to get past last night and get back to the way things had been before.
Smiling resolutely, she turned for the door.
Through the rest of the morning he behaved just as he had when he sat across from her in his office. Barely civil. And as cold as the North Pole. In the afternoon, when things got busy, he barked at her twice, once for the usual—taking too long with a patient—and once because of some supplies that weren't there when he wanted them. His usual gorgeous smiles were not in evidence at all.
When he finally left to do rounds at four-thirty, Lee heaved a sigh of relief and went to grab a cup of coffee in the copy room, which also served as a makeshift staff lounge. Beyond file storage and the copying equipment, the room also boasted a table with three chairs around it, a coffeemaker, a small microwave and a cabinet shelf stacked with coffee, filters and cups.
Lee got her cup from the shelf and filled it with the strong, dark brew from the coffeemaker. She knew she really ought to take the time to nuke a little water for some herb tea. It was so much better for her than coffee. But she didn't. Sometimes nothing hit the spot like a good jolt of caffeine. And for days like today, the stuff really ought to be available in IV form.
Just as she sank into a chair at the table, Terry Brandt popped her head in the door. "Is he gone?" The other nurse made her tone low and theatrical.
Lee nodded.
Terry slipped inside, shut the door and leaned on it. "What was the matter with him today? I've never seen him like that. Did he even smile once?"
Stalling in order that she might avoid making a comment, Lee sipped her coffee. It had been sitting on the burner too long, as usual. She grimaced as she swallowed.
Terry folded her arms over her chest. "I mean, he's never exactly Mr. Warmth, or anything. But he's … amiable. And fair. The man was neither today. Were you there when the Bailey woman's chart turned up missing?"
Lee sipped some more and made a vague uh-hmm kind of noise.
"He lit into Jack about it. And then, a few minutes later, we found the darn thing. On the doctor's own desk."
Irrational as it was, Lee couldn't help feeling just a tiny bit responsible for Dr. Taylor's bad mood. She found herself jumping to his defense. "Maybe he had a rough night last night."
"I'm sure. One of his blondes probably had a bad hair day—and took it out on him."
Lee set down her cup. "Come on. Everybody's entitled to be a grouch now and then."
Terry groaned. "You're awfully generous, considering it seemed to me he picked on you worst of all."
"I'm tough. I can take it."
"Well, I guess so." Now Terry sighed. "Still, he's a total dreamboat, even when he's a jerk, don't you think?"
"I suppose."
Terry sighed some more. "Dr. Devastating, that's how I think of him. He's right up there with young Dr. MacAllister and Dr. Heartache himself, Mike Brennan—who, by the way, have both been snapped up by your friends."
Lee made a face. "So now it's my fault that my friends got the good ones?"
"No, not at all. I'm only pointing out that the good ones are limited. And going fast, if you know what I mean." She raised a hand and fluffed her auburn hair. "So. How do you think I'd look as a blonde?"
Lee made noise in her throat. "Temporary."
"Ah, yes. They do come and go, don't they?"
"Exactly."
"Still, who can blame a woman for fantasizing a little?"
Luckily Lee had just swallowed a sip of coffee, so she avoided a choking fit when Terry said that word. All day, she'd stood absolute guard on herself. Not a single fantasy had dared to creep into her head.
"Lee. Don't tell me you've never daydreamed about him. Just a little. Come on, tell the truth…"
Lee made another of those noncommittal noises.
And then, blessedly, someone pushed on the door that Terry was still leaning against. Terry turned and moved back. "What?"
Jack, the med tech and clerk, peeked in. "Are we still open here or not? I've got a sweet old lady with a duodenal ulcer waiting patiently for someone to check her vital signs."
"All right, I'm with you," said Terry. She followed Jack out.
Truly grateful to have escaped the other nurse's grilling, Lee got up and rinsed out her cup. There were still a few patients in the waiting room. And after they closed the doors, there would be paperwork to do. She wouldn't get out of there until six at the earliest.
Lee rubbed the back of her neck in an effort to ease the tightness there. She was running on no sleep and way too much tension caused by you-know-who. Once she got home, she'd have that herb tea she should have had right now. She'd brew a nice big pot of it and she'd zone out in front of the idiot box, sipping and relaxing. She'd go to bed by nine.
And tomorrow, she told herself, after she'd had a good night's sleep, after a little more time had passed, things would be better. Within a week, she felt certain, everything would be back on an even keel with the good Dr. Taylor and the clinic staff.
* * *
Chapter Four
« ^ »
Lee was only partially right.
Dr. Taylor's attitude did seem to improve with the staff in general. The next day, he made it a point to spread those fabulous smiles around, to praise Jack's efficiency—and to criticize more gently if things weren't where he wanted them when he wanted them.
But with Lee, he remained cold and utterly distant. Lee told herself that she could deal with that. It wasn't exactly the pleasant atmosphere she'd hoped they could foster. However, other than the deep-freeze looks he gave her whenever they had to speak for some reason or another, he left her pretty much alone. She could bear that.
And, quite gratifyingly, she managed to keep her imagination under strictest control. She indulged in zero fantasies. Really, it wasn't that hard. Who wants to fantasize about a man who hates you? Very off-putting.
And Lee took no chances. She didn't let herself get cocky concerning her own self-control. The gym had always been her favorite place to daydream. So, just to be on the safe side, she skipped her Wednesday workout. After all, she could see no sense in tempting fate.
She decided she'd wait a week or so to show up at Optimum Fitness again. And since Derek usually worked out on Monday, Wednesday and Friday, she'd go on alternate days. She felt certain that, with patience, discipline and good planning, she'd thoroughly vanquish her longing to spin sexy scenarios around Derek Taylor, M.D.
On Friday, four days after what Lee had come to think of as the debacle at the Mexican restaurant, a stunning blonde appeared at the front desk.
"Excuse me. I have a lunch date with Dr. Taylor." The woman's voic
e seemed to be composed of two parts velvet and one part thick cream. "I wonder if you could tell him that Felicia is here?"
Tucking the phone under his chin, Jack glanced up over the rim of the high counter. At the sight of the exquisite creature standing there, his mouth dropped open.
The blonde laughed, a laugh as creamy-velvety as her speaking voice. "Dr. Taylor. Is he here?"
"Uh. Oh, yeah. Just … have a seat. I'll let him know that you're waiting."
"Thank you." The blonde turned. Jack gaped as the woman walked away from him, slender hips swaying gently with each step. Lee, who happened to be standing beside the clerk, found that she was gaping, too. She watched the woman take a seat, watched her cross one fabulous leg over the other. Her skirt fell back a fraction, revealing a few extra inches of truly spectacular thigh. Above her sexy black high heels, her trim ankles fairly twinkled.
As she stared, Lee told herself she wasn't the least bit jealous. Not at all. And besides, after a nice lunch with a woman like that, Derek Taylor would forget all about being cold to his nurse practitioner just because she'd turned him down for a date.
Right then, the man himself came striding down the central hall from the direction of his office, straightening the collar of his sport jacket and shooting his cuffs. Lab coat and stethoscope were nowhere in evidence. He must have just shed them, in preparation for lunch with she of the velvet-and-cream voice.
"Felicia is here," Jack told him—rather unnecessarily, Lee thought. The woman had chosen a seat that faced the central hall. She must have seen the doctor come out of his office. And Derek clearly had her in his sights, since he stalked right by Jack, headed straight for her.
Felicia stood, her angel's face lighting from within. "Derek. It's so good to see you."
He grinned down at her. "Felicia, you're looking well."
She tucked her hand into the crook of his arm. "Come on. Let's get out of here. I want you all to myself."
They turned then, as one, and strolled across the dark blue indoor-outdoor carpet of the waiting room, headed for the door. Lee thought that they looked like royalty, two golden beings, set apart from the mere mortals surrounding them by virtue of all that blondness, those blue eyes, that aggressive good health.
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