New York City Docs. Tina Beckett

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of a week ago, yes.” That was when he realized he wasn’t actually being asked if he would like to participate, he was being told.

      “The studio has been one of our sponsors for a number of years. In fact, their exhibitions always attract quite a crowd.” He sent Clay a smile that looked genuine for the most part. “Hell, even my wife went over and took a few lessons from them after seeing it one year. So what do you say?”

      There was a pregnant pause while the administrator’s eyes remained on his.

      What choice did he have?

      “I guess I say yes, provided Dr. Camara agrees.” Tessa was going to have his hide. “Have you already spoken with her about it?”

      “I thought I’d leave that to you. She was already planning on taking part in the exhibition, so this shouldn’t be much of a surprise to her.”

      Oh, it was going to be a surprise, all right. And not a good one. He’d be lucky if he came out of there with his head intact.

      “I’ll see what I can do.”

       Great move, Clay.

      He sighed. Surely they could work together for five or six hours without killing each other. And it would benefit the hospital and those in need. No big tragedy. They were both adults. They would get through this and come out stronger on the other side, right?

      “Oh, and we’ll want to get your and Dr. Camara’s formal permission to use this poster. We’ll put some of them up in the hospital entryway and some other places. It’ll help get the word out about one of the highlights of the festival.”

       Highlights?

      It just kept getting worse.

      The last thing he wanted was to have a spotlight placed on that picture of him and Tessa together. Not because it was embarrassing or humiliating but because it hit too close to home—was too much of a reminder of what he and Tessa had once meant to each other.

      She was going to blow her top when she heard about this. And his parents. They were going to get their hopes up that he and Tessa would get back together. At least his mother would. Of that he had no doubt. He was somehow going to have to figure out a way to nip that in the bud. Because there was no hope. No hope at all.

      A single night of summer madness? Well, it looked as if the exhibition might turn into exactly that.

      He left the office and headed for the bank of elevators. Once inside one of them, he punched the button for the third floor and leaned against the wall, waiting for the doors to open. When they did, he was surprised to see Tessa there. From the furrowed brows and flashing green eyes he gathered she was upset with someone. Well, so was he.

      As he made to step off the car he found a hand planted flat on his chest, pushing him backward. She moved into the space and pressed all the buttons one by one.

       What the…?

      The doors closed, and it started moving up—with him and Tessa as its only occupants. She turned toward him. “What is going on? I just got a call from Marcos that you’ve decided to take part in the capoeira exhibition after all.”

      He tried to wrap his head around her words and failed. He’d only just come out of Lloyd’s office. Surely word couldn’t have gotten back to her or Marcos this fast.

      “Did you already know about this?”

      The doors on the next floor opened and, when no one got on the car, closed again. The elevator continued on its course.

      “Know about what? That you were going to go to the administrator and ask him to put you into the exhibition?”

      “No. That would have been you.”

      “Me?” Her eyes widened. “Why would you think…? Hardly. I thought you said you didn’t want to do it.”

      “I don’t.”

      “Then who…?”

      “Marcos.” They both said the name at the same time. Clay’s muscles relaxed and he leaned back against the wall of the car. Lloyd had said it was Marcos, but he’d only half believed the man.

      The elevator stopped again, the doors opened and then closed once more. He could have gotten off and walked up the two remaining flights of stairs to his floor, but he didn’t. “So what are we going to do about it?”

      “What can we do? Between Marcos and Peter Lloyd they’ve got us right where they want us.”

      He laughed. “And where is that?”

      “Putting on a show for anyone who wants to watch.”

      For some reason a lurid image came to mind, of Tessa again sprawled across his chest. But this time, instead of leaping to her feet, he stopped her, his hand sliding into her hair and angling her head within reach of his mouth.

      He swallowed hard, trying to banish the mental picture. It didn’t work. So he trickled a bit of gasoline on the spark to make her aware that she was treading on dangerous ground. “Then we’d better make that show worth their while, don’t you think?”

      This time her face tipped up to look at him. Seeing what was written there, her lips parted and she blinked. “That could be awkward, Clay. Very awkward.”

      “Could it?”

      Clay remembered playing these games with her many times in the past. Suddenly all thoughts of his mother getting her hopes up fled as those memories crept closer to summer madness. “They have a poster already made up. The one taken at my batizado.”

      “The one where I… And afterward we went to your place and…”

      “That’s the one.”

      Two more floors came and went. After the next one they’d be heading back down the way they had come. The doors opened and this time a nurse got into the elevator. He nodded a greeting at the newcomer, who turned to stare at the readout, her head craning to the side, probably wondering why so many floors were lit up.

      Tessa’s cheeks turned a shade of pink he recognized all too well.

      She was the one who’d pressed all those buttons. And he realized he’d squandered his chance to act on their time alone. Except that little camera in the corner—which he hadn’t noticed until just now—would have caught them in the act. Good thing someone had interrupted or the poster the administrator hung on the walls might be even more suggestive.

      Not the kind of staff behavior Mr. Lloyd would approve of.

      There was silence for two floors, then the nurse got off, leaving Tessa and Clay alone once again. Despite the danger, he couldn’t resist pressing just a bit harder. “So we’ll have to practice,” he murmured.

      “More than likely.” She flushed even more.

      Hell, he’d love nothing more than to crowd her against that wall and mash his lips to hers. Instead, he crossed his arms

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