expression. “It was the only way I could think of to shut you up.”
He had kissed her to shut her up? Appalled by his reasoning, Becca could do no more than stare at him.
“You were getting too worked up over the newspaper article. It wasn’t good for you in your condition.”
And being kissed like there was no tomorrow was good for her? Becca wondered. Blinking in confusion, she refused to recognize or let the tears stinging her eyes fall.
“I’m tired.” It was all she could think of to say to him. “I’d like to rest now.” There was no way she would admit to him her utter devastation.
For an instant, he looked as if he wanted to say something, then he shrugged and turned away. When he reached the doorway, he glanced back at her. “I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow morning.”
Becca wanted to protest, call out to him not to stop by, but it was too late. He was gone. She could picture him, striding down the corridor, utterly unaware of the tentative smiles and longing glances sent his way.
Calmer now that Seth was out of the room, Becca replayed in her mind those few magical moments he had held her in his arms, and taken command of her mouth.
She sighed with the same kind of longing so many other women felt for him. And she had thought to call him back, tell him not to stop by the next morning? Ha! She couldn’t wait to see him again…fool that she was!
The next moment, Becca frowned. She couldn’t believe he had actually explained away his kissing her as the only way he could think of to shut her up. That had to be the most overused, clichéd line in romance fiction. Either the man secretly read too many romance novels, which she seriously doubted, or he had never read any, which she felt certain was the case.
Poor Seth. He didn’t even realize he was clichéd and outdated with his approach with women.
Becca couldn’t control a small smile at the thought. The sizzling way he kissed, Seth didn’t have to worry about his statements being outdated. Hell, he really didn’t need to speak at all.
Drowsily, Becca savored the lingering taste of Seth on her lips. His tongue had done a thorough job of teasing the inside of her mouth. The memory triggered a shivery sensation on every nerve ending in her overheated body.
What would making love with him be like?
She quivered at the very idea, before pulling herself together. Get a grip on your imagination, Rebecca, she chided herself in frustration.
Seth Andrews is not interested in you in any personal way. She grimaced. Matter of fact, he very likely did kiss you to shut you up!
Damn you. Standing in the corridor not far from Rebecca’s room, Seth berated himself for the third, or maybe the fourth time since walking out moments ago. He stared at her chart, as if studying her stats.
What in the world had he been thinking, kissing her the way he had? Admitting to himself he had kissed her because he had wanted to for so long, Seth refused to excuse himself for acting so precipitously. He had had no right to simply grab her and kiss her.
Oh, but she had tasted so good, even with the hint of coffee on her tongue. He had wanted to taste her ever since she had become a member of his surgical team.
And now he had…and almost wished he hadn’t. Becca had tasted like heaven, and Seth wanted another taste. No, he wanted to own her mouth, have it for himself alone, have her for himself, all to himself.
The mere thought of having Becca, making love to her, shot tongues of fire through Seth’s body, directly to the most vulnerable part of his being.
A shudder of hungry desire brought Seth to his senses, to what he was and where he was.
He was a doctor, a surgeon, standing in the hospital corridor fiercely aching for a woman…no, not just any woman, a certain woman.
Rebecca.
Merely thinking her name moved him. He made a half turn to go back into her room, when he caught himself short. What the hell was he doing?
Seth was tempted to laugh. He was driving himself crazy over one kiss, that’s what he was doing.
Not too smart, Andrews, he chided himself, as he strode down the corridor, immune to the speculative sidelong glances following his every step.
True to his word, as he always appeared to be, Seth entered her room as Becca was finishing her breakfast. Without asking, he examined the contents of the tray, taking note of what she had eaten.
“You didn’t drink your juice.”
“I don’t like grape juice,” she muttered in annoyance. Who did he think he was anyway?
Seth raised his eyebrows and observed wryly, “I see you drank all your coffee.”
“I do like coffee.” She gave him her sweetest smile. “Matter of fact, I’ve asked for a second cup.”
His gaze lingered on her lips for an extra moment. Becca was hard put not to shiver in response to the heated look she thought she saw in his eyes.
Ridiculous. She rejected the very idea. Seth Andrews giving her a heated look? Yeah, right.
“You have company.”
His remark scattered her thoughts, silly as they were. “I have company? Who?” She couldn’t imagine. Her parents had retired to a lovely retirement complex in the region around Williamsburg, Virginia. Her sister, Rachael, lived and worked in Atlanta. How would they have known she was back in the States from Africa…?
That damn newspaper article.
“Do you want to see them?”
His voice, now edged with impatience, once again broke into her thoughts.
“Yes, of course I want to see them,” she said, every bit as impatiently. “When did they arrive?”
“Yesterday.”
Yesterday? Becca frowned. “But, why didn’t I see them then?”
“You weren’t allowed company yesterday.”
“You—”
“No,” he said, cutting her off. “Not me. Pulmo nary. Dr. Inge decided you needed more time.”
Becca sighed. “The head honcho of Pulmonary.”
“I see you recall the staff here.” He smiled. As slight as it was, his smile went straight to her heart and lungs. She started coughing.
In the next instant, he was pressing the cold stethoscope against her chest. Without speaking, or asking, he lifted her up once again, this time to press the cold instrument to her back.
“Deep breaths.”
“I only swallowed the wrong way,” she lied, grabbing at the first excuse to enter her empty head.
“Uh-huh,
