of feet from each other, both breathing hard. She had a feeling her eyes were just as bright with passion as his were. Her lips felt well kissed and slightly swollen. She touched her fingertips to her sensitive skin.
“Did I hurt you?” he demanded, his expression hardening.
“What? No.”
He half turned away, then faced her again. He didn’t look happy.
“I’m sorry.” The words were abrupt. “I shouldn’t have done that.”
She thought about asking why not, but thought that might send them down a road she didn’t want to travel.
“I don’t usually …” He cleared his throat. “I’m generally in control. You’ll have to take my word on that.”
“Not to worry. I believe you.” She was pleased she could speak without her voice shaking.
“There’s something about you. An attraction I can’t shake. I—” He sounded frustrated and embarrassed. “I’m sorry.”
Sure she must have heard him wrong, she held her hands up in the shape of a T. “At the risk of having you break out in hysterical laughter, are you saying you were overcome by passion and had to kiss me?”
She braced herself for mockery. Instead Simon nodded.
“I can’t explain it,” he admitted. “It’s one of those chemical things.” He looked away. “I don’t usually have this kind of reaction to a woman.”
She wanted to bask in the moment. No one had ever admitted unbridled passion for her before. Part of the reason could be that no one used the word unbridled anymore, but still.
“Why don’t you usually feel this way about a woman? Please tell me you’re not gay?”
A muscle twitched in his jaw. “No, I’m not. However, I can generally control myself sexually.”
The tone was practically ice, but the words were hot enough to make her thighs tremble.
“Not around me?”
He sighed. “No.”
Montana had no idea what to say to that. Part of her wanted to invite him back to her place. If a guy felt that strongly, she thought she should at least say thank you. Although her mother would probably tell her that a card was plenty. Part of her wondered if this was just a game. Except Simon was proud, and she doubted he would be willing to humiliate himself just to score points.
He took the decision out of her hands. “I’ve taken up enough of your time,” he said. “Thank you for showing me the town. As for the kiss, it won’t happen again. You have my word.”
With that disappointing last statement, he turned and walked away.
SIMON FOUND REFUGE in his work at the hospital. As always, dealing with his patients, planning surgery, examining healing burns kept him occupied, both physically and mentally. But every now and then, and more often than he wanted, he remembered how he’d acted with Montana.
Now, sitting in the small office he’d been given for his three-month stay, he found himself thinking about the scent of her and the feel of her in his arms. He was distracted by the remembrance of her silky hair in his hands, the sound of her laughter and the way she looked when she smiled.
Heat and need threatened to overwhelm him. Dammit all to hell, he thought grimly. Why now? Why her?
There wouldn’t be an answer. Fate was nothing if not mysterious. He simply had to accept that when he was around Montana he was going to act like an idiot. If he didn’t watch himself, he would slide past idiot status and into something more dangerous.
Now, as he stared at the chart but saw her face instead, he knew he had to find a solution. Bad enough to be stupid, but worse to be pathetic. He’d made the mistake of telling her why he’d kissed her. No doubt she felt sorry for him and was eager to stay away from him.
Normally he didn’t care what people thought of him, but for some reason, Montana’s opinion mattered. He wanted to impress her. Between his reaction to Fluffy exploding onto the ward and the kiss, he couldn’t be further off the mark.
His cell phone rang.
Simon glanced at the screen before answering, then pushed the button. “What trouble are you in now?” he asked, smiling.
“The usual,” the caller said. “Be impressed. I have cell service in Nepal.”
“I am. How’s it going, Alistair?”
“Good, and you?”
“The same.”
“Where are you?” Alistair asked. “America somewhere?”
“Fool’s Gold.” Simon explained the location and a little about his cases.
“Sounds like work,” his friend commented. “The same here. Burns. More primitive conditions in the outlying areas.”
Simon had known Alistair since the year he’d spent studying in London. A Brit to his bones, Alistair had been his roommate and shown him much of his country. They’d become friends and, given that they did the same kind of work, stayed close.
“You’re keeping busy,” Simon said.
“Always.” There was a pause and the sound of voices. “I’m sorry, Simon. I phoned to catch up but they’re calling me down to emergency surgery. We’ll talk soon.”
With that, Alistair hung up. Simon sighed and tucked his phone back into his coat. He, of all people, knew how hard it was to maintain friendships in their field.
“Dr. Bradley?”
He glanced up and saw one of the nurses standing in the doorway. She was young and cheerful—something he was sure the patients appreciated but he personally found annoying. His gaze drifted to her name tag.
“Yes, Nora?”
She smiled. “Kalinda’s resting. She keeps talking about that poodle who came to see her. What a great idea—bringing in a therapy dog. Especially one that small. I guess that’s why you’re the expert.”
“I’ve never used a therapy dog before. It was an experiment. Sometimes I get lucky.”
Her hair was blond. Her mouth widened slightly at his words. Humor and interest sparkled in her blue eyes. She was pretty and appealing.
“Which makes it a good day,” she told him. “How are you enjoying Fool’s Gold?”
“The town seems nice enough.”
“We like to think we’re a friendly sort. Can I prove that by asking if you’d like to come over for dinner? I’m sure you’re getting tired of restaurant food. I have my grandmother’s recipe for fried chicken, and I make a mean berry pie.”
Long-term relationships were out of the question. Not only was he always moving
