each drop to its fullest.
See, nothing like his old man. Nothing. Jonathan Fielding would never have walked away from Madison. Never.
But Levi didn’t plan to walk away for ever. No, he’d bide his time, ensconce himself in every aspect of her life so she couldn’t imagine him not being there.
He’d have his steady, stable relationship, prove he wasn’t a damned thing like his father, and he’d have Madison, too.
She might think she just wanted hot sex with him, but before he was through she’d need him over and over, always needing just one more time.
Always needing him just once more.
Madison crawled in between her sheets, taking little pleasure in the smooth Egyptian cotton caressing her bare skin.
Had her breath been bad?
Had she had pizza sauce on her face?
Had she had a big “L” tattooed on her forehead?
Nope, none of those things, but Levi had rejected her. And he wasn’t the kind of man who rejected a willing woman he was attracted to. So what did that mean? That he’d just been being friendly, had realized she’d taken things all wrong, and he’d scampered backwards as quickly as he possibly could?
Maybe. Maybe not.
She just didn’t know.
What she did know was that Levi’s rejection left her feeling way too much like Simon had on numerous occasions. Left her feeling raw and achy on the inside. Left her resolved to make sure that barrier always stayed up around her heart.
Especially where Dr. Levi Fielding was concerned.
CHAPTER FOUR
ON MONDAY morning, Levi spotted the petite blonde stepping out of room 217. The very beautiful petite blonde he’d looked for at the park Sunday morning and again this morning to no avail when he’d gone for his run. Despite how he’d lingered much longer than his usual run time, he hadn’t bumped into Madison either morning.
She wore bright pink scrubs with cartoon characters on them. Her short blonde hair was fluffed slightly and tapered in at her chin as if the strands wanted to cup her face.
When she glanced up and spotted him watching her, a shade of pink similar to her scrubs spread across her high cheekbones.
Did women who ate men for breakfast blush so readily?
She was too far away to touch, or even to speak to, really, but not so far away that he didn’t recognize the uncertainty in her eyes, that he couldn’t tell she was trying to figure out exactly where their dinner on Saturday had left them.
Pacing himself was one thing, but seeing the uncertainty in her eyes made him think he should have done something besides tell her to call him if she had problems with her ribs or throat. And here he thought he’d deserved a medal for the restraint he’d displayed as he’d scribbled his cell number on the back of a business card. She didn’t look like she wanted to give him a medal. Or even the time of day.
Well, hell. He made his way toward where she stood in the hospital hallway.
Gaze narrowing, her expression changed, became defiant. She lifted her chin and turned away from him as if to send that proverbial “take a hike” message.
“Madison?”
She ignored him, continuing with what she was doing as if she hadn’t heard him behind her.
“Nurse Swanson?” he tried again, his tone harsher than it should have been, but he didn’t like being ignored. What man did?
“Dr. Fielding?” She turned to face him. Her eyes sparkled like big green jewels glittering in sunlight. Her voice sounded breathy, a little like she’d run a sprint.
“Levi,” he corrected, despite the fact he’d just called her Nurse Swanson, reminding himself that they were at work and of his no-touching-Madison-yet policy. Maybe the combination of reminders would cause him to keep his hands off. Because he’d really like to pull her to him and kiss that pert mouth until she melted against him, until that look of annoyance fled her face and was replaced by wanton need.
“How are you feeling?” His gaze raked downward, taking in the fine lines of her body, lingering at her. ribs. “Ribs okay?”
“They’re fine.” Rose stained her cheeks, contradicting so vividly with the woman she’d claimed to be. Was that part of her allure? That contradiction between good girl and bad girl? She glanced away, pulled her look of annoyance back into place. “I was a little sore yesterday, but nothing too bad.”
“I started to call to check on you.” True. He’d picked up the phone a dozen times, but had decided not to push too much too soon.
She shifted her feet. “There wasn’t a need. Thanks, though.”
She took a step back, putting more distance between them.
Apparently he’d royally ticked her off when he’d hightailed it on Saturday night.
Which meant he needed to do some backpedaling of his own.
“How late are you working?”
“Shift change is at seven.” She gave him an odd look and added, “Same as always.”
Yeah, he’d known that, but obviously wasn’t thinking clearly. “You want to go to dinner?”
“With you?” Her eyes widened, big green gems beckoning to him with the power of an enchantress.
“I’m not asking for anyone else, if that’s what you’re wondering.” He chuckled wryly, ignoring that looking at Madison had him feeling a little crazy. Had him wondering if she was going to say no. Had him wondering what it would feel like to kiss her.
Her mouth bowed, her lips almost pouty. How could he ignore how full and lush they were? How downright kissable? How downright nibble-able? He wanted to sink his teeth in and.
“Okay,” she agreed, her irritation melting away and her smile illuminating her pretty face, making his ribs tighten around his lungs to the point he could barely catch his breath. “Thanks for asking. That would be nice.”
Nice. There was that word again. A word that had guilt dredging up deep in his soul.
Yes, he wanted a more settled relationship with Madison, a committed relationship, but what if that didn’t work out? Then what? He should be upfront and warn her just in case?
If what he’d overheard was true, would she even care if he was more like Jonathan Fielding than he would have ever thought possible? And if she were that woman, then why had he chosen her as the woman he wanted a more serious relationship with?
Because Madison felt different.
Everything about her felt different from any woman he’d ever known.
Maybe
