The Doctor's Calling

“Then you’re happy about this?” he asked.

She gave her head a mental shake, while hoping her cheeks weren’t as pink as they felt. “If you’re talking about the house and furniture, then yes, I’m very, very happy. If you’re talking about the job, well, I can’t answer that until we start working.”

A little scowl drew his brows together. “What if you don’t like it?”

She shrugged as she met his gaze. “What if you don’t like it?” she retorted.

One corner of his mouth crooked upward. “Touché.”

Swallowing at the ball of nerves in her throat, she moved around him and walked over to the cabinets. As she pretended to inspect the stainless-steel sink, she told herself that she had to get a grip. Nothing had really changed between them. Something about this place only made it feel that way.

She heard his footsteps approaching from behind and then suddenly she felt his hand rest on her shoulder. For a moment she practically stopped breathing and her eyes instinctively closed as she tried to brace herself.

“Laurel, I think I should apologize.”

His words stunned her completely and she forgot that he was standing so close until she whirled around to face him. And suddenly she realized her breasts were very nearly brushing his chest, and his face was only inches from hers.

“Apologize?” she asked quietly. “For what?”

He grimaced. “I don’t know—just seeing you here tonight—it’s made me realize that I was asking far more of you than I had a right to.”

“You let me make my own decision,” she said in a voice that sounded breathy, even to her ears. “No one twisted my arm to be here.”

“No. But you liked the clinic and you’ve always lived in town. I’m asking you to make some huge changes. And you said you didn’t like change.”

He remembered her saying that? Maybe she’d better keep a closer watch on what she was saying to this man.

“I did say that,” she agreed. “But sometimes a person’s life needs to be shaken a little, just to keep things interesting. Besides, you needn’t worry about me. You have far more things of your own to deal with.”

He let out a heavy breath, then lifted his cowboy hat and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “You’re really too good for me.”

In an effort to lighten the moment, she quietly laughed. “I know that.”

His brown eyes locked with hers as his body moved ever so much closer to hers. “You’re laughing,” he pointed out in a low voice. “And it’s not a blue moon.”

“No,” she said inanely, while wondering wildly what he was doing and why. He’d never looked at her this way. Never touched her this way. “Sometimes it just slips out of me.”

He let out another long breath, and Laurel could feel the warmth of it brushing her cheeks. Thankfully, she had a scarf wrapped around her neck; otherwise he’d be able to see the pulse pounding rapidly at the base of her throat.

“I’m glad you can laugh, Laurel. I’m glad you’re happy with the house. And I’m glad you chose to come here with me.”

His words were buzzing through her brain, even as she watched his lips growing closer and closer to hers.

Was he actually going to kiss her?

The incredulous thought had barely skipped through her head when his palm came up to rest against her cheek and his lips came down on hers.

For a brief second as their lips made contact, she was sure her heart stopped completely. And then suddenly every part of her body was flooded with sensations so intense she staggered back slightly against the cabinet counter.

He moved with her, and for what seemed like an eternity, but not nearly long enough, his lips moved over hers in a warm, thorough search that sucked every ounce of breath from her body.

When he finally lifted his head and broke the contact between them, Laurel was visibly shaken, and she stared at him as fear came rushing in behind a wall of desire.

“What—Why did you do that?” she finally managed to ask.

Regret, or something like it, twisted his features. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want to hear that from you.”

“All right. You won’t,” he retorted, his demeanor suddenly changing back to the boss she’d dealt with for the past five fears.

With a tiny groan, she twisted away from him and hurried out of the kitchen. He followed her into the living room, but stopped a few feet away from where she stood near the picture window.

Glancing over her shoulder, her gaze slid over him, his stance wide and his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his coat. Although there was nothing inviting about the expression on his face, Laurel still wanted to run and fling her arms around him.

She was crazy, she thought. Hopelessly crazy.

“If you’ve seen enough, I think we’d better be heading on to the other house,” he suggested gruffly.

Laurel looked out the window and wondered why now, after all this time, she felt tears burning her throat and stinging the backs of her eyes. Since Lainey had died, she rarely ever shed tears over anything. It wasn’t right that Russ could pull that much emotion from her.

She said stiffly, “If you don’t mind, I’d rather stay here and look at things a bit more.”

“All right. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he told her.

She nodded and he quickly left the house. From her spot at the window, she watched his headlights pull away, then head on up the mountain. But once they were completely out of sight, she sank weakly onto the arm of the couch and dropped her head in her hands.

This wasn’t going to work, she thought sickly. Not this lovely little house, or the job, or him. Because his kiss had shown her exactly how much she was missing and all the things she could never have. Wherever she went on this ranch he’d be nearby and his kiss would be haunting her, tempting her. How could she ever endure that much misery?

She’d have to bear it, she told herself. Or live her life without him. And that was a choice she wasn’t quite ready to make.

Chapter Four

By the time Russ returned a half hour later, Laurel had managed to compose herself somewhat and was determined to act as though nothing had happened between her and her boss.

But the moment she climbed into the truck and they pulled away from the house, Russ said, “That kiss—I honestly don’t know what came over me, Laurel. You were—well, it was nice to see you smile and hear you laugh. It’s been a big relief to me that you’ve agreed to continue working as my assistant, and I guess I got carried away for a moment.”

“That’s all?” she asked stiffly, wondering why his explanation left her feeling strangely deflated.

“That’s all. So I think we should both forget it. Don’t you?”

Forcing herself to glance his way, she saw that he was focused on the dirt road in front of them and his profile gave none of his feelings away. But that was hardly a surprise. The only times she’d ever seen Russ show much emotion were when they were treating animals that had been deliberately hurt or neglected. When it came to people, he appeared to not feel much at all.

So why had she felt so, so much in his kiss? she wondered.

Swallowing at the thickness in her throat, she turned her attention to the passenger window. Even the darkness couldn’t hide the heavy snowfall that was already collecting on the tree branches and ground vegetation near the edge of the road.

“Consider it forgotten,” she said, then cleared her throat to ease the huskiness in her voice. “What did you think of your house?”