ERIC leaned back in the expensive leather chair meant to impress guests invited into Rivendell Medical Center’s administrator’s office. With its original wall prints, expensive furnishings and lush greenery, the office screamed success.
“I know Dr. Douglas has already shown you around the ambulatory clinic, but would you like a tour of the rest of the facility prior to officially starting?” the lanky man he’d spent the morning with offered. “I know you practically grew up at the center, but that was before we moved to the new location.”
That had been three years ago while Eric had been in Africa as part of the medical mission team he’d joined straight out of medical school. A lifetime ago. Eric didn’t even feel like the same person who’d once lived in Rivendell.
He wasn’t the same person.
“The entire building is state-of-the-art. The in-house referral system streamlines care with great efficiency. We have close to a hundred providers of various specialties on staff now.” Clive gave Eric a grin. “Your grandfather would be proud. I know your mother is.”
His maternal grandfather would be proud of how far the clinic had come. The facility comprised a three-story building with multiple specialty departments, a fully equipped laboratory, radiology department, pharmacy and a same-day surgery wing that bore Eric’s grandfather’s name.
His mother was proud of the clinic, too, but Eric refused to let thoughts of her into his mind. He’d barely been home a week and already she was trotting Kentucky debutantes in front of him at every opportunity.
Eric shook his head at his mother’s matchmaking and at the administrator. “Jonathan showed me around the center when I was here two months ago.”
Just as it had then, the center felt right.
Like this was where he was meant to be despite years of adamant and rebellious denial of his heritage. Despite his mother thinking his move home meant he was ready to settle down and produce heirs.
“If there’s anything Rivendell can do to make your move smoother, let me know,” Clive went on, no doubt in an effort to impress Lena Woolworth’s only child.
“Actually…” Eric rocked back in the chair, eyeing the administrator through narrowed eyes. “There is something.”
Clive’s temple jumped with a nervous spasm. “Oh?”
“I’m going to work in the ambulatory clinic.”
The man’s unease faded into confused relief.
“The ambulatory clinic? But…” Remembering who he was talking to, the administrator nodded. “Of course. I should have realized you’d want to work directly with Dr. Douglas.”
Perhaps he should feel guilty for using his influence to change where he’d be working at the last minute. Hadn’t he sworn not to let moving home corrupt him? That he’d remain true to the man he’d grown into while thousands of miles away? But working in the ambulatory clinic appealed enough for him to ignore any doubts about his motives.
He had no doubts.
He wanted to be near Dr. Kasey Carmichael.
Whether or not wanting to be near her was a good thing remained to be seen.
Early that evening, Kasey finished seeing her afternoon patients and slouched into the comfy ergonomic chair at her desk.
Her office wasn’t much larger than a broom closet, but she’d been allowed to decorate the room to her taste. She’d gone with crisp white walls and black furniture. A vase of colorful Shasta daisies, looking so real people often reached out to touch a petal just to see, sat on the top of her bookshelf along with a model of a human kidney and a two-foot-tall skeleton she’d nicknamed “Bones”.
She kept a vanilla-scented air freshener plugged in to drown out the antiseptic smell that permeated the rest of the clinic.
The room wasn’t fancy, but at least she had a small private place to call her own.
Right now, she desperately needed privacy.
Eric was here. At the clinic.
Maybe he’d work on a different floor and she’d never see him. What kind of doctor was he anyway?
Dropping her face into her palms, she massaged her temples.
This couldn’t be happening.
Just seeing Eric in the hallway had made her want to push him into a room and perform a thorough examination of all his many attributes, right down to taste-testing him from head to toe.
Which shocked her.
She’d never been adventurous sexually. She and Randall had shared a good enough sex life, but they hadn’t been the stuff to burn down buildings.
One night with Eric and smoke still clouded her mind.
Intoxicating smoke that made her want to inhale deeply and give in to sweet fantasy.
Sweet? There hadn’t been anything sweet about her fantasies. Hot, enthusiastic, sweaty, yes, but not sweet.
Kasey’s fingers dug deeper into her scalp.
No way would she risk her career because of a man a second time. Not at Rivendell, where she’d made her fresh start and the potential to achieve her lifelong dreams dangled in front of her like the proverbial carrot.
A knock sounded at her door and she looked up. Eric watched her.
Realizing she was massaging her temples in overtime, she dropped her hands to her desk and tapped the sleek black surface. Which was no less nervous appearing than her temple massaging. Taking a deep breath, she flattened her palms against the desk to stay their fidgety tapping.
“I thought you’d left.” Brilliant conversation. Yet what did it matter? His family owned stock in the center. Could the situation be any more Randall-like? She needed to put Eric firmly in the past and keep him there.
If she remained steadfast, perhaps he’d take a hint and leave her alone.
Which was what he’d eventually do regardless. She was definitely like her mother in that regard. Men never stayed long. She’d thought Randall had been different. Steady, dependable Randall. But she’d been wrong. Horribly wrong and just look what that mistake had cost her in the long run.
Not to mention that she’d gone to Eric’s hotel room on the night they’d met. She didn’t respect herself, how could she expect him to?
“I did leave,” Eric admitted. His gaze roved over her in melted chocolate temptation that made her libido growl in hungry response. “I came back.”
“Why?” Why did he have to look so wonderful in his black slacks, blue shirt and tie? Like something on the cover of a men’s magazine. He’d taken off his suit jacket at some point since she’d seen him earlier and his tie was loosened around his neck, making her want to walk over to him and straighten it.
Or perhaps she just wanted a reason
