struggled to focus on his words, difficult to do with the spicy scent of him filling her every breath.
“I wasn’t unhappy at my other position, but this is a dream job of mine.” All the more reason she needed to keep her focus narrowed.
“They’re lucky to have you.” His hand was close enough to stroke her hair, but he didn’t move.
The phantom touch, the promise, was just as potent.
Enough polite chitchat. “Why are you here? I’m not buying this sudden interest of yours for story time with sick children.”
“You didn’t want our date from the bachelor auction last month, so I’m fulfilling the time purchased here.”
She’d been irate when he’d paid the money in her name for his time at the charity bachelor auction. She didn’t like being manipulated. Another reason she was irritated to see him here today, despite the way his nearness made her temperature spike.
Still, she couldn’t deny he was doing a good thing for the patients, many of them here long term in the pediatric oncology ward. “That’s very altruistic of you. What made you think of reading books instead of something like volunteering in the gift shop?”
“I like kids, even though I don’t have any of my own. I’ve always been a proud and involved uncle. And my family’s charity foundation is initiating a number of projects here at Anchorage General.”
Could that be true and she just hadn’t heard about it yet? Or was he making another excuse to pursue her because she’d had the nerve to say no to a Steele?
“What kinds of projects?”
“We’re starting with a program donating books to patients.” He answered without hesitation.
She believed him. About that much at least. “That’s a wonderful thing to do, but I need to make sure you know, my interest is not for sale.”
His easy smile faded. “Neither is my honor. My family has always supported this hospital out of gratitude for their top-notch care. My nieces and nephews were born here. My niece Naomi underwent cancer treatment here—and then went on to deliver her twins here. The book donation is a part of the new pilot program.”
“New pilot program?” she couldn’t resist asking, the professional in her intrigued. So much for playing it as cool and formidable as the Alaskan tundra.
“The Steele and Mikkelson families’ new charity foundation is looking for more ways to make a difference at the hospital. One of those ways is to provide children with new books, volumes they can keep so there’s no risk of germ cross-contamination with shared materials.”
How could she find fault with that plan? She couldn’t. “That’s really thoughtful. I’m sure the children and parents will be very grateful.”
Finances could become strained with long-term hospitalizations, so much so that even buying books was a luxury.
“Today’s package for each child included a copy of the story they just heard.” A half smile tugged on his mouth, those signature Steele eyes full of promise.
It had been a riveting tale, no question, especially when read by a larger-than-life cowboy. “You said ways—plural—of helping here. What else is the foundation doing?”
She was curious, yes. But she also needed to know where to avoid him so she didn’t keep testing her resolve where he was concerned.
“The vote was taken yesterday, so technically, it’s okay for me to share now even though the press release won’t go out until tomorrow.” His smile widened and her stringent resolve waned.
“Okay, I’ll admit it. You’ve got my interest—on a professional basis only.”
His brows shot up almost imperceptibly. “Of course.” His smile was confident—and sexy. “We’re making a donation to the oncology ward in honor of my niece. They’ll be renaming it, to be made official at a dinner for the hospital board of directors and the charity foundation board.”
His words sunk in. This wasn’t a simple book drop-off or some quickly concocted plan to bump into her in passing. He and his family’s charitable foundation had a genuine, vested interest in being a part of this hospital’s financial landscape.
Realization filled her with the inescapable truth—and she couldn’t deny a shiver of excitement. “You’re not going anywhere, are you?”
Stetson in hand, Conrad watched Felicity walk away in a huff down the hospital corridor.
He was definitely getting under her skin, and that was a good thing. Damn straight, he wasn’t going anywhere. He had wanted her since the first time he’d seen her. He’d worked to win her over since then, not an easy task as she was still stinging from her divorce. But then, he wasn’t one to shy away from a battle.
Letting his gaze linger on her, he stepped away from the vending machines and back into the flow of foot traffic in the wide corridor, winter coat over his arm. Felicity’s sleek brown hair was pulled back into a neat French twist, midday sunlight through the window reflecting off honey-colored streaks.
Her pin-striped skirt was both professional yet also appealing in an understated way as it hugged her curves, sweeping down to touch the top of her knee-length leather boots. The ruffles on her blouse drew his eyes to her neck and wrists. Not that it took much to bring his attention to her.
He was selective, dating professional women who weren’t interested in a walk down the aisle. He’d had a brief marriage and a near miss, having been left at the altar by his fiancée. His attempts at happily-ever-after had left him gun-shy.
Then when his older brother had lost his wife and child in a plane crash, seeing his brother’s unrelenting grief had cemented Conrad’s resolution to stay single. He’d devoted himself to helping bring up his nieces and nephews. He loved kids. It hadn’t been a hardship to lend a hand to his overburdened big brother, Jack. Conrad was fifteen years younger and had energy and time to spare. He couldn’t help wondering, though, if the fact that his brother’s kids were grown now attributed to some restlessness on Conrad’s part.
His gaze zoned back in on Felicity as she stepped into an elevator. She certainly had his attention and he imagined she would have at any time in his life. He’d hoped things would go a little more smoothly today, but he also enjoyed a good challenge.
He started toward the elevators just as the double set of electric doors opened, a blast of cold air gusting inside. A familiar face stopped him short. Marshall. His nephew. The middle child in Jack Steele’s brood, Marshall was a bit of a recluse, preferring to oversee the original homestead ranch. He’d never voiced an interest in the day-to-day operations of the family’s oil business.
They’d all had to step up, though, when Jack Steele had become engaged to the widowed matriarch of their corporate rival, the Mikkelson family. Shortly after that, Jack had suffered a fall from a horse that could have killed him, but didn’t. Still, it had left him with a recovery from spinal surgery that had lasted months.
Even though Jack had married Jeannie Mikkelson, the family had still been in turmoil at a critical juncture in the merger into the combined companies that became Alaska Oil Barons Inc., with stock prices
