as though they’d each grown a new pair and didn’t know quite how to work them, and then stared in opposite directions.
Finally, Thomas cleared his throat.
“So,” he said, “there’s a lab about a mile from here.”
Her lungs loosened up, allowing her to breathe again. Medical tests and procedures were second nature to her, unlike dizzying hugs from sexy men. “Right. Should I take Jalen there for the paternity test?”
“Yeah. I’ll arrange it.”
“Great.” Now that they were back in familiar territory, she risked a glance at his eyes, which was as jarring as a ten-foot drop in an elevator. Those brown eyes were way too intense and, for all she knew, saw too much.
And yet, she couldn’t look away.
“Knock-knock, dearie.” The receptionist tapped on the door and, without waiting for an answer, opened it and poked her head inside, providing just the snap back to reality that Lia needed. “Don’t forget your staff meeting. We don’t want this young lady with no manners to make you late, now, do we?”
Much to Lia’s surprise, Thomas demonstrated the beginnings of a sense of humor and quirked a brow. “This young lady does need work with her manners, but she has a name, and we should probably use it. Lia Taylor, meet my receptionist, Mrs. Brennan.”
The women exchanged reserved smiles and a grudging handshake, during which Mrs. Brennan’s keen gaze skimmed over Lia from head to foot, probably noting everything from her choice in eye shadow to her suspected weight and shoe size. This examination culminated in Mrs. Brennan shooting a wry glance at Thomas.
“Well, she’s a pretty little thing, isn’t she, Doctor? And don’t pretend you haven’t noticed.” A scowl crept across his face, flattening his brows and thinning his lips, but Mrs. Brennan seemed oblivious to this nonverbal warning and kept right on chirping. “I think I’ll just have to keep my eye on this one, won’t I?”
“Ah, Mrs. Brennan.” Thomas’s voice now had a steely edge. “You remember that discussion we had earlier, don’t you?”
Mrs. Brennan waved a hand. “Oh, I’m not digging into your personal life. I’m simply noting, in passing, mind you, that there’s something striking about wee Lia. You agree, don’t you?” And without waiting for any answer, she waggled those fingers again and swept back up the hall.
Lia gaped after her. What the hell was the poor man supposed to say to that?
Thomas cleared his throat and quickly busied himself by straightening some files on his desk. “Sorry about that,” he muttered. “Mrs. Brennan takes some, ah, getting used to, and I’m not sure—”
“It’s okay.” Lia shrugged and ducked her head as she started to leave, determined to get out of there before she either burst into tears again, or worse, her burning cheeks ignited. “I need to get back to work, anyway. I’ll get out of your hair. Bye.”
“Lia,” he said sharply.
“Yes?”
“You didn’t tell me …”
He hesitated, looking grim. He was allowed, she supposed; she’d dumped five tons of bricks on him in the last several minutes. Another of those endless beats passed between them, and she almost thought she saw color creep up his jaw from his neck. Was the arrogant surgeon feeling as flustered as she was right now? And why did it matter to her one way or the other?
“How can I stay in touch with you?” he asked.
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