wear for media darling Sharon Wakefield’s glamorous wedding. As far as the reception, she’d make do with whatever she could find in her rather boring closet.
“Will he still be waiting?”
She blinked at Vale. “Who?”
His blue eyes darkened. “Whoever I’ve kept you from.”
He almost sounded as if he’d intentionally kept her at the office. Actually, when the others had left and she’d started to stand, he had asked her opinion on a patient report he’d just read, ensuring she’d stay on to read the profile.
Had he intentionally kept her there? What possible reason would he have for doing so?
She took a deep breath, telling herself she was tired, imagining things, but for once gave her boss a flippant answer. “Regardless of how late you keep me, he’s always glad to see me.”
She wasn’t lying. Not really. But, seriously, she expected Yoda not to know who she was if she didn’t start spending more time with him. Thank goodness for their nightly snuggles and early morning walks.
“Maybe you should go ahead,” he suggested, his dark eyes unreadable. “I’ll finish these.”
He was staying? Telling her to go on? Was he testing her? Seeing how dedicated she was to her career?
“When you said we should call it a night, I thought you meant both of us. I don’t like the thought of leaving you here alone.”
Leaning back in his chair, he laughed. “Do you think I can’t take care of myself?”
No matter how she tried she couldn’t keep her gaze from lowering, from tracing over the strong lines of his neck, over the tanned V of skin exposed where he’d removed his tie and unbuttoned the top couple of buttons, down his broad shoulders that his tailored shirt accented, down his forearms bared where he’d rolled up his sleeves. And his hands.
Lord, how she loved his talented hands.
Tanned, strong, long-fingered, ring-free. She particularly liked that last part, although eventually he’d marry one of the beauties he bedded. Then what? Would she be able to continue working with him, knowing how she dreamt about him, knowing he belonged to someone else?
That question was one that crept into her mind from time to time, filling her with panic, filling her with the dreaded knowledge that some day she might leave Wakefield and Fishe.
She lifted her gaze back to his, was startled to look into smoky blue eyes filled with awareness.
Awareness that she’d looked at him not as his employee, not as a fellow physician, but as a woman with real needs.
What was wrong with her?
She swallowed, trying to clear her throat, trying to buy herself time while she racked her brain for something to say that would defuse the situation.
Only, she didn’t know what to say.
Regardless of how much his awareness scared her professionally, as a woman, the flicker of interest in his eyes set light to a hope that threatened to consume her very soul.
CHAPTER TWO
VALE finished his cellphone conversation with his cousin Sharon and turned toward Faith. They’d just left the hospital following a globus pallidus DBS implantation, and were walking back to Wakefield Tower, where Wakefield and Fishe occupied the entire fifty-sixth floor.
Vale was enjoying the late spring air, enjoying the hustle and bustle of the busy New York sidewalk, people from all walks of life rushing past him and Faith. Numerous vendors lined the streets, selling everything from designer sunglasses to cheap “I Love New York” T-shirts. A hot-dog street vendor called out to someone and Vale’s stomach growled in response.
“Let’s grab an early lunch before heading back,” he suggested. Quite often they’d pop into a restaurant or grab take-out so they could review a case while dining. Working with Faith made lunch more enjoyable. “Subs or Chinese?”
“Neither.” Not a single hair out of place on her tightly pulled-back hairstyle, Faith shook her head. “I can’t do lunch today.”
Mentally, he ran through her schedule. They were leaving the office early to head to Cape May so she only had a few afternoon appointments. “You aren’t scheduled for anything until one, are you?”
She didn’t meet his eyes. “No, but I have other lunch plans. Sorry.”
Vale’s gut tightened. Had she made plans to meet the mysterious man in her life? The one who’d been glad to see her the night before even though Vale had managed to keep her out past eleven? Had she lain in his arms recounting the day’s events?
How had he not known she was seeing someone? Why did the fact that she was make his stomach knot?
Not because when she’d looked at him last night, he’d grown hard in response to her visual undressing. She’d liked what she’d seen and hell if he hadn’t wanted to preen under the intensity of her green gaze.
Which was all wrong. He never, ever got involved with a colleague, and particularly not one who worked for him.
Besides, she wasn’t his type.
Sex with Faith would be complicated, would come with all kinds of expectations on her part. He only had sex with uncomplicated women who knew better than to expect more from him. He’d learned long ago not to want or expect more either.
Sex?
He did not want to sleep with Faith—which was the truth. Sleep had nothing to do with what he’d found himself thinking of last night, this morning when he’d awakened.
He didn’t like being aware of her. Of waking with the scent of her perfume and sound of her laughter fresh in his mind.
“I’m allowed to take a non-working lunch break.” Shoving her glasses up the straight slant of her pert little nose, she looked as exasperated as she sounded.
“You should have told me. I’d planned to review the information we compiled last night prior to making a final decision on the initial patients to receive the procedure.” Why was she being so evasive? Who was she having lunch with? The mystery man? Perhaps they weren’t having lunch at all? “Cancel your plans.”
Annoyance flashed in her eyes, surprising him. Faith never argued with him, never went against his wishes, never made lunch plans. She ate lunch with him. The only time they didn’t share a working lunch was if he made other plans.
Glancing at her watch with a disgusted look, her shoulders fell a notch, slamming him with unaccustomed guilt rather than the satisfaction that should have come with knowing he was about to get his way. And what was with her and looking at her watch the past two days? Faith wasn’t a clock-watcher.
“Fine.” She exhaled deeply, “I was fooling myself that I had time to get my hair done and find a dress for the wedding in an hour anyway.”
Vale stopped walking, standing perfectly still on
