against his chest. “Stop.”
He lifted his head, his lids half covering his desire-laden eyes. He wanted her. He had kissed her, wanted her, might have carried her to her sofa and made heart-pounding, thigh-slapping love to her if she hadn’t told him to stop.
Her head spun. Her eyes blurred. Her equilibrium shifted.
Regret that she’d stopped him filled her, making her wish she’d dragged him into her bedroom rather than push him away. But make-over or not, she wasn’t one of his playthings. She was his employee, a physician with plans to have a phenomenal career within his neuro clinic, and not by sleeping her way to the top.
Although with her lack of experience, sleeping with Vale might get her sacked instead of promoted.
“Why did you do that?” Wiping the back of her hand across her mouth, she stepped back, wishing she wasn’t shaking, wishing she didn’t want to beg him to kiss her again. She had to take control of the situation prior to him figuring out just how much she wanted to jump back into his arms.
“You needed to be kissed.”
If he thought his hot kisses had left her any less in need of being kissed, he was wrong.
All he’d managed to do was to show her what she’d been missing, what she now knew she desperately wanted. His kisses.
Determined to salvage her pride, she frowned, wishing he wasn’t still touching her. “Says who?”
He rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. “Says me.”
A shiver whipped through her body, prickling her flesh. “Even if I did need to be kissed, that’s not your place. I told you on the day I agreed to this trip with you—I won’t be lumped into the category of one of your girls.”
He seemed to consider her comment a moment. “You’re wrong, Faith. Kissing you is exactly my place. This weekend, you are my girl.”
CHAPTER THREE
OF ALL the arrogant comments Faith had ever heard!
She was not Vale’s girl. Just because she’d agreed to a working weekend to save him from his family’s matchmaking, that did not make her his property and certainly not one of the arm decorations he paraded around New York’s social scene.
She snuck a glance at his powerful profile. Staring straight ahead, watching traffic as he drove to Cape May, he looked exactly the same as he always had. Same sun-kissed light brown hair, same sparkling blue eyes that could pierce a person’s soul with their intensity, same handsome face. Same calm presence, completely untouched by the kiss they’d shared.
He was whistling, for goodness’ sake. An upbeat melody that was slowly driving her insane.
Urgh. He frustrated her. Infuriated her. He’d kissed her. Taken notice of the fact that she was of the opposite sex and kissed her. A toe-curling, thigh-melting, neuron synapse-searing, honest-to-goodness kiss.
Yes, she’d been the one to stop him, because she’d had to. But she’d wanted him to take her into his arms, tell her he’d been a fool not to see what was right beneath his nose, and could she ever forgive him?
Okay, so that was pure fantasy and not the kind of thing that happened in reality. But men like Vale kissing her didn’t happen in her reality either.
At least, nothing like that had ever happened before.
“You’re staring a hole through my head.”
How did he know that when he hadn’t glanced away from the traffic on the New Jersey Parkway?
“Impossible.”
As if she hadn’t just taken a shot at him, he grinned. “I meant figuratively, not literally.”
“I knew that,” she pointed out, determined not to let him get the upper hand. “I was referring to your hard-headedness making staring a hole through your head impossible in any shape, form, or fashion. Figuratively or literally.”
He laughed, a husky male sound that warmed her insides. “Point taken.”
Eyes narrowed, she twisted in her seat to more easily look at him. “Are you mocking me?”
She’d swear his lips twitched with amusement. What was so funny? He’d kissed her and turned her world upside down and now he was laughing at her? If he hadn’t been driving, she’d … she’d … well, she’d have come up with some horrendous punishment, if her life wasn’t literally in his hands.
“Relax, Faith.” He glanced away from the road long enough to meet her gaze. “Maybe we shouldn’t have brought the patient profiles with us.”
“Why not?”
“This isn’t going to be a working weekend after all.” She wouldn’t gulp. Not even if she really, really needed to gulp.
“Why?” She gulped.
“Because I’ve been working you too hard, and you need to relax, have a little fun.”
“I have fun.” She didn’t want him thinking she was a dull Jane. Even if she was a dull Jane who worked most of the time and spent too much of her precious little spare time working even more so as to impress him when next they met.
“With whomever you were kissing goodbye in apartment 907?”
Mrs. Beasley? She started to laugh, but then realized he was serious, had made note of her neighbor’s apartment number, and, most surprising, sounded a tad bit jealous.
Was it possible? Could a make-over and one kiss have him feeling possessive? Oh, what was she thinking? He was probably just worried that if she had a life she wouldn’t be at his beck and call for work. Just look at how he’d reacted to her making lunch plans that didn’t involve work.
“Apartment 907 is my neighbor.”
“And you tell this neighbor you love him?”
He’d heard that? And why was he using his annoyed voice on her? She glared at him in silence. Even with only being able to see his profile, she could see his expression harden.
“It’s a simple question, Faith. No harm in answering.” Oh, enough was enough.
“My neighbor is a seventy-year-old sweetheart who dog-sits for me while I’m at work. I was dropping off Yoda, not telling a man I loved him. Not that it’s any of your business if I was.”
His brow rose. “Yoda?”
“My dog.”
“You have a dog?”
“Yes, a miniature poodle.”
“A miniature poodle?” His nose curled with unpleasantness. “Not much in the way of protection.”
“You’d be surprised. Yoda might be small but he has the heart of a lion.”
