a few more days of chaos in the ER and seeing Duncan only briefly, Rebel was ready for a weekend of peace and quiet, with a small side trip to meet Duncan’s elderly grandfather. Duncan had called and said he’d pick her up at eight a.m., so she was ready to go.
She flitted around her apartment, waiting for Duncan. Was she out of her mind? Had he really invited her to meet his grandfather? What had she been thinking to agree to that? She didn’t meet the families of people she worked with. She didn’t even socialize with people she worked with. She didn’t know how many invitations she’d turned down or avoided over the last six years of her travel nursing career that had been offered by coworkers.
The echo of their words rang in her mind.
Come on, it’ll be fun.
It’s just one cocktail.
You work too much.
Why don’t you want to come?
They were all well meaning, and she certainly could have made more friends, but people who extended offers like that expected something in return. They wanted something from her. Wanted to get to know her, and that was out of the question.
The doorbell rang, and Rebel’s pulse kicked into high gear. If she didn’t move, maybe he’d go away. Maybe he’d think she’d forgotten. Couldn’t she just say she’d changed her mind or gotten called into work?
“Stop being silly, Rebel. You’re a grown woman. You can do this.” She opened the door and realized she wasn’t being silly at all. Her senses were instantly overloaded by Duncan, the epitome of a sexy Hispanic New Mexican man. A black T-shirt hugged muscles that hadn’t been apparent beneath his scrubs. It molded to his torso and defined his shoulders and trim waist. Jeans that were well loved, a little worn around the edges and fit him to perfection. A tan chamois shirt with sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing muscled forearms and strong hands. And scuffed cowboy boots that seemed a perfect fit to his heritage and personality.
She swallowed and took in one of those deep yoga breaths she practiced every day. She’d told Duncan yoga was good for the mind, body and spirit. She needed some of that now. Gulp.
“Wow. Don’t think I’d have recognized you out of the scrubs.” Seriously, and he smelled like a dream. “Come in.”
She huffed out a little breath.
This was s-o-o-o-o wrong.
She was in s-o-o-o-o much trouble.
“Thanks. Same to you,” he said, and indicated her state of dress in white clam-diggers that exposed her calves, a Kelly-green top, and her family tartan thrown over one shoulder.
“You do realize you’re going to start a war with that.” He nodded to the tartan and gave a full-out grin.
“Oh, really? Then I won’t bring it.” She reached to remove the plaid and gasped when Duncan clasped her wrist tightly in his hand.
“Absolutely not. Don’t change a thing.” He leaned closer to her and looked down as she could only stare into his eyes. “I wouldn’t miss that for anything. It’s about time the old man had a challenge.”
Somehow she ended up closer to Duncan with his one hand still clutching her wrist and his other pressed against her hip, reminiscent of the position they had been in the other day. Only this time there were no constraints of work, no witnesses, nothing to stop him.
Then his gaze dropped to her mouth. Without thinking, she parted her lips and tilted her face toward him, silently begging him to kiss her.
This was a woman who had no idea how beautiful she was and how that intrigued him. If there was no flash between them, then he’d know they were destined for friendship. But if there was a spark, that could lead them down another, more dangerous, yet much more interesting, path. Needing no further encouragement, Duncan closed the distance between them and pressed a simple, chaste kiss to her lips.
Spark.
Definite spark.
Duncan’s mouth was soft and firm against hers and her lips actually tingled. The surprise of the kiss flashed all the way to her toes. Something she’d heard about but had never experienced. Then he moved and pulled her more firmly against him. One hand dove into her hair and held her head as his mouth opened over hers.
Inside she gasped as his tongue touched hers. Oh, God, she was in trouble. Without being aware of it, she moved her arms and clutched his shoulders, easing closer to him, if possible. The glide of his silky tongue nearly made her want to abandon her morals and her clothing, but she restrained herself. She tasted cinnamon on him and the lingering essence of coffee. Two of her favorite things, but right now she didn’t care as she gave herself over to the kiss that overwhelmed her senses.
Duncan nearly forgot he was going to just kiss her to test the situation. As she moved closer, bringing her body against his, he realized how well she fitted him from nose to toes. The taste of her was shockingly sweet. As he cupped the back of her head and dove deep into her, he sensed a depth of passion she probably wasn’t aware of. Tremors shot through him, and he wanted to abandon the planned trip to take her down the hall to her bedroom instead.
Not a good idea. Yet. He eased back and watched in delight as her eyelids fluttered and surprise covered her face. She was as turned on as he by the surprising power of the kiss. Her lips were red and plump, face flushed and breathing slightly erratic. He imagined he looked about the same. He’d love to see her all rumpled from making love all afternoon but had to grit his teeth and pull away.
She was relieved when he moved back, but at the same thoroughly confused by the kiss. Then again, Duncan wasn’t going to be someone she’d date. They were just coworkers and friends.
Who maybe kissed on occasion. That happened, didn’t it?
“That was very nice, Rebel.” His eyes glittered.
“Uh, very.” She cleared her throat and blew out a breath, trying to get herself under control.
He placed a light kiss on her lips and reluctantly withdrew. He clasped her shoulder, then let his hand stroke down her arm and take her hand. “Let’s get going, shall we?” He straightened the tartan over her shoulders. “This looks perfect on you.”
Despite her experience as a nurse, she was such a babe in some ways. He liked that. Not sure why, but he did. The innocence she exuded was really quite alluring. Her own siren song she didn’t know she sang.
“Thanks.” With her senses still humming, she grabbed her handbag and locked the door. Duncan took her hand and escorted her to his vehicle. The pickup truck seemed totally Duncan. It was black and unassuming on the outside, but inside it had all the bells and whistles one could ask for. It looked like a small airplane. She wasn’t surprised when he put on aviator sunglasses.
“We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Where does he live? In a retirement home?” There were probably lots of them in Albuquerque. It was a retirement hot spot.
Duncan snorted, then choked on a laugh. “Him? In a facility? Not on your life. He’d throw himself in front of a bus first.”
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