the color of his eyes, but she knew them to be an impossible shade of hazel green.
Several doctors moved to greet him. The older man at his side, his father and the chief of staff, introduced him with obvious pride. Trevor was more than model perfect— he was also an incredibly gifted and compassionate surgeon. His colleagues respected him, his patients worshiped him, women desired him. A true paragon, she thought grimly.
Dana was faintly annoyed by all the fawning. Wasn’t there supposed to be a meeting in progress? So a new doctor was on staff. It happened all the time. Why did they all persist in acting as if they were being visited by a religious icon?
The meeting room was about thirty feet square and she was nearly as far from the door as possible. A couple dozen other people milled around talking now that the initial hush had receded. Dana had felt confident that she would be neither noticed nor acknowledged. So when Trevor looked in her direction, she didn’t bother to turn away.
“He’s looking at me!” Sally exclaimed.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Melba told her.
Dana barely heard them. Despite the physical distance between them, despite the number of years since she’d last seen him, despite the stern lectures she’d given herself to avoid making a fool of herself over this man ever again, once he caught her attention—she couldn’t turn away.
Those hazel green eyes trapped her. Trevor seemed to single her out in the crowd. All his attention, all his considerable energy, flowed toward her, around her. She felt it as tangibly as a touch...or a kiss. Heat flared in her thighs and her chest, working up and down, making her want to fan herself...or run for cover.
She was, she realized with dismay, not breathing, so she forced herself to inhale and exhale slowly and deeply. Noises in the room faded to faint buzzing, while the corners blurred into nothing. A wanting as powerful as a force-three hurricane built inside her.
Trevor’s father said something and the object of everyone’s attention shifted toward the chief of staff. For Dana, it was like breaking free of a tremendously powerful tractor beam. Her breathing once again became involuntary. The heat waned, as did the desire. The room returned to focus and she could hear what everyone whispered.
If she’d been standing, she would have collapsed into the nearest seat. As it was, all she could do was lean weakly against the chair back and wait for her strength to return.
What had just happened? She shook her head. Scratch that—she didn’t want to know the answer. She absolutely, positively, refused to be attracted to Trevor. No way, no how, not again. She’d sung that song and danced that dance. If nothing else, she had the ability to learn from her mistakes. He might have the gifted hands of Michelangelo, but he had the morals of an alley cat.
Dana shook off the residual effects of her momentary weakness and forced herself to look at the hospital’s chief of staff. Walter approached the podium and nodded to a few friends. The room quieted. From the corner of her eye she watched as Trevor made his way to an empty chair in the front row. He never once glanced her way, so she could only assume what she’d experienced before had simply been the result of low blood sugar or the placement of the moon or something. Obviously Trevor hadn’t been looking at her.
She wasn’t sure how long the meeting lasted. In some ways it felt as if she’d been sitting in her chair for days; in other ways, it seemed only a few seconds. But as soon as Walter excused everyone, Dana sprang to her feet and hurried toward the door. She told herself the real reason she was fleeing was that she had piles of work waiting on her desk, that it had nothing to do with avoiding Trevor. Besides, she need not worry. Already a crowd was collecting around him. A crowd of mostly women, she noted with some disdain. Even if he only greeted them individually, he would be stuck there for an hour.
She continued to walk forward purposefully. The corridor—and freedom—were in sight, when someone touched her arm.
She didn’t have to turn around to identify the person. She knew the same way bats know how to fly in the dark or cats know how to land on their feet. She knew because, despite the years and the past, or maybe because of them, a part of her still recognized him.
She stopped and, without turning to face him, said, “Hello, Trevor.”
“Dana!”
The pleasure in his voice made the heat return. It washed through her, a liquid warmth that dissolved will and purpose along with bones.
Because there was no way around it, she shifted until she was facing him, then glanced up. It was like tumbling out of a tree. For a moment she had a wonderful sensation of free-falling for eternity. Then she hit earth with a thump and had all the wind knocked out of her.
She couldn’t move; she couldn’t breathe. She could only look at him and wait for him to blow her away. He did. He smiled. A perfect mouth curved over perfect teeth, exposing a perfect dimple. The man should come with a warning label. Maybe something from the surgeon general or the military—lethal, operate at your own risk.
“I was hoping I would run into you,” he said, and placed his hand on her arm, just above the elbow.
The polite gesture allowed him to guide her out of the room and into the corridor. She thought about protesting, but she hadn’t gotten her breathing going again, so words were impossible. She could only stare mutely and try to figure out why on earth he sounded so pleased to see her.
People passed them. She had a sense of movement and bodies. By the time she had herself nearly under control, they were in the elevator, heading down. She forced herself to remember what had happened all those years ago. How he’d humiliated her in front of the entire school. The anger had long faded, but the sense of shame lingered. Now she focused on that, willing the emotions from the past to push aside the heat and desire she refused to acknowledge. No matter what, she would not want this man again. Ever.
“What are you doing?” she asked when she realized they were alone in the elevator and Trevor was staring at her with a smile tugging at his lips.
“Taking you for coffee.”
She made a show of glancing at her watch. “I’m very busy.”
He shrugged. “So am I, but this is important. Don’t worry, it won’t take long. I just want to get a few things straightened out.”
She didn’t like the sound of that, but before she could complain, the doors opened and two nurses stepped inside. They took one look at Trevor and simpered. There was no other word for their flirty expressions and open body language.
“Good morning, Dr. MacAllister,” they said in unison.
Dana thought about sticking her fingers down her throat and making a retching sound, but doubted anyone else would appreciate the humor in the gesture. The attention was nauseating. How did the man stand it?
Silly question, she thought, glancing at his handsome features. He accepted the adoration with the equanimity of one born to greatness. Women had been fawning over him since he was in the cradle and no doubt they would continue until he was on his deathbed.
“Doesn’t it get boring?” she asked as they exited the elevator, collected mugs of steaming coffee and made their way to a quiet table in the corner. She took the seat facing the rest of the room because she wanted to watch the reaction of the women already there. Most had already seen him and were staring hungrily.
Trevor
