“This way.” He led Taylor into his private office and gestured for her to take a seat.
“I won’t take but a minute of your time,” she started, looking less than thrilled to be there.
“Take all the time you want.” Jeremy took off his white lab coat, unbuttoned the first button on his dress shirt, and loosened his tie. Hoping to delay her at least long enough for them to call a truce, he sat, facing her. “I’m done for the day. The only thing I have ahead of me is a couple of hours’ work on my ranch house.”
She avoided his eyes, looking at everything in the office except him. “Paige asked me to be part of the celebrity auction the hospital is having to raise funds for the new wing. I know it won’t be held until next September, but she said you are in charge of gathering the items to be sold, and I should talk to you about what I might donate.”
Jeremy gripped the desk on either side of him and rocked forward slightly. He let his gaze drift over the elegant contours of her face. Aware all over again how much he had missed having her in his life, he said softly, “You could have talked to me about this back at the ranch.”
She directed her attention to him once again. Her defenses were up. Oddly enough, that gave them something in common. He didn’t know how he felt about her, either. Except that he wanted this tension between them to end…
“I was in town, doing errands,” Taylor explained, looking flustered.
“Is that the only reason you came by my office?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” She straightened. “I wanted to stare at your diplomas with envy.”
Annoying her this way was starting to be fun. “No need to be sarcastic.”
The lift of her brows said it all. “Sorry. The nosiness of others brings it out in me.”
Jeremy chuckled. “Is this the way it’s going to be?”
“What?” With an indignant sniff, she shot up out of her chair.
He caught her hand, tugged her toward him. “Us sparring back and forth continuously until you leave?”
She pushed him away, one hand flat against his chest. “I don’t mind.”
He let her go, reluctantly. “I do.”
“Jeremy—”
It was all he could do not to take her in his arms. Aware how well that would go over, he contented himself with speaking what was on his mind. “I’d like us to be friends again.”
Surveying him with exaggerated politeness, she crossed her arms in front of her. “Really?”
“Really.”
“I don’t see how that’s possible, given the fact that you still—even after all this time—think I should have ignored my writing aspirations and gone into medicine.”
Was that still true? Twelve hours ago, it had been. But now…
Jeremy thought about the chapter he had read the night before, Krista Sue Wright’s reaction to Taylor’s work, and the fact Taylor’s very first novel was being turned into a movie. He stood slowly. “I was wrong, okay?” he said, surprised to find how good it felt to let go of the opinion that had torn them apart and kept them estranged for years. He had missed her. So much.
Figuring since he was responsible—at least in part—for driving her away, he should be part of the effort to bring her back, he continued, “It doesn’t matter how good a doctor you would have been. You are obviously doing what you are meant to do.”
Chapter Three
Zoe’s Secret Anguish
Is the marriage of the music industry’s hottest couple over? All of Hollywood seems to think so. Zoe Townsend hit the roof when she found Zak’s lipstick and perfume-stained shirt on their hotel suite floor. Seems the color—and the fragrance—weren’t hers.…
June 3 edition,
International Inquisitor magazine
Before Taylor could respond to Jeremy’s incredulous admission, his secretary buzzed in on his intercom. She wanted to discuss the next day’s appointments prior to leaving for the evening.
Jeremy excused himself and left the office for a few minutes. When he returned, he gave Taylor a quizzical look. “What’s wrong?”
Taylor’s mouth dropped open. She looked like she didn’t know whether to slug him or hug him. “Are you kidding me? How do you expect me to react to that bombshell you just dropped?”
Jeremy shook his head and continued in the same serious tone, “I’m the first to admit it when I am wrong. I was wrong.”
She snorted indignantly. “After seven years of being a stubborn donkey’s rear end, you change your mind,” she snapped her fingers, “just like that.”
Now, it was easy to come to that conclusion. Back then… how was he to know she was such a talented writer? Seven years ago, the only thing he had ever seen her put her energy toward was medical school. From the time she had entered college until the day she dropped out, Taylor had been exclusively focused on becoming a doctor. Just like him. He’d figured her abrupt decision to quit had been a combined reaction to stress, physical exhaustion, and fear. The thing was, they’d all felt that way during their grueling introduction to professional school, all wondered at some point at the start of their careers if they really had what it took to succeed in that field. For nearly all of them those feelings of indecision and insecurity had passed. He had assumed—for Taylor—that would be the case, too. Because he was her friend, he had tried to keep her from making a mistake that would destroy her long-held dream and haunt her the rest of her life.
Instead, from the looks of her—and the track record she had created as a writer—her actions had freed her.
Aware she was still waiting for the explanation behind his abrupt change of heart, he shrugged. “In those days, I hadn’t read anything you’d written.”
She edged closer. Her smile remained in place but he thought he saw it tighten a notch or two. “And now you have?”
Jeremy bit down on a curse. What was it about Taylor that always had him revealing too much? “I might have browsed a chapter of your book,” he allowed.
She went very still. “And?”
“I’m as curious as Krista Sue Wright about the hero of your romance novel.”
She frowned. “It’s chick lit.”
The contempt behind her reproach rankled, but he kept his irritation in check. “I stand corrected.” He paused. “But you’re dodging the question.”
She flashed him a condescending smile. “Which is…?”
“In Chapter One your heroine is really drawn to the hero in a physical sense,” he said.
“So?”
So everything about Taylor, from the silky fall of hair over her shoulders, to the clothes she wore, indicated she was a very sensual woman. He let his gaze rove the green cotton V-neck top that cut in slightly around the arms, leaving her shapely arms and shoulders bare. Her summer print skirt gloved her waist and hips in the same smooth, loving manner before ending just above her knees. Her legs were tan and bare, her delicate feet encased in sandals that looked as comfortable for walking as they were sexy. “So the hero in the book had a lot in common with that guy you were living with, back in Virginia,” he said.
She glided past, in a drift of orange blossom perfume. “How would you know? You never met my ex.”
Nor would he have wanted to. “Paige framed those pictures of you and Baywatch Bart. She’s got them in the living room at her house. I couldn’t help but notice them.”
She turned slowly. “You sound…jealous.”