off down the passage at a fast clip, muttering to herself about men never growing up. While it was mostly true and not worth losing sleep over, it certainly beat thinking about her humiliating tumble into the lap of the one man she wanted to avoid. Or his physical reaction to her squirming around on his lap like a second-rate stripper hoping for a big tip.
Her face burned. And, boy, had she been given the biggest tip of her life. Before she could stop it, her skin prickled and heated and her heart set off like a vampire bat scenting warm blood. Oh, God. And to think that humiliating little incident had actually turned her on. Maybe this all-work-and-no-play plan of hers was making her a little crazy. Maybe all she needed was a few hours of hot, sweaty, heart-pumping exercise—at the gym, she added hastily—and she could get back to focusing on her plan to get the fellowship.
Besides, she was so close that she couldn’t let herself get distracted. Not now and certainly not by a guy who either nipped and tucked women into physical perfection or made the backs of their knees sweat.
Groaning inwardly, Holly increased her pace, as though she could outrun the memory of hard thigh and belly muscles pressed firmly against her bottom and then from chest to knee—and everything between—as she’d slid down the front of his hard frame.
She got a full-body tingle just thinking about it. A gasp of horror burst out. Full-body tingle? Oh, God.
Absolutely no freaking way. And not with him.
Focus on the plan, Buchanan, and not on the way he makes your knees wobble or the fact that medium was too small. No. Not too small, she corrected a little hysterically. Waa-aay too small.
Oh, boy. And since she’d inadvertently stared at his package, she would probably agree. She got another full-body shiver and muttered a curse when it slid down her spine like a delicious thrill.
Stop that, Holly, she ordered sternly, he’s the guy that turned Paige’s respectable B-cups into C pods. And for what? So he could make a few thousand bucks? So her sister could flash a bigger cleavage to all her adoring “fans” when she appeared on the latest magazine cover? Or went topless on Bimini?
Big deal. Especially when there were people out there scarred by life-altering events who didn’t have access to even basic medical care, let alone cutting-edge plastic surgery.
Weren’t there enough butchers willing to slice and dice in the name of vanity that West Manhattan could focus on building the best P&R center in the world? Besides, everyone knew that most women would never be satisfied with their looks, no matter what.
She was trying so hard to convince herself that there were no redeeming qualities about Dr. Hotshot from Beverly Hills that she failed to realize the man himself had caught up with her until a flash of movement drew her attention.
Her stride wobbled for an instant but she sucked in a fortifying breath and marched on, determined to ignore him. Besides, she needed all her concentration to keep upright or she might end up breaking something the next time she took a tumble.
She grimaced. She’d seen him a total of three times and managed to embarrass herself each time. Despite her klutzy childhood, it was probably a new record.
She clenched her jaw and sent him a narrow-eyed look out the corner of her eye but he appeared oblivious to her presence, loping along beside her with an easy, loose-limbed stride that was deceptively indolent, as though he was alone and liked it that way.
Holly rolled her eyes and ignored the pinch in her chest. Yep, story of my life. The hot guys always ignored her—especially when they discovered she wasn’t perfect, like the rest of her family. That she wasn’t as outgoing as her famous sister or as warm and beautiful as her mother.
Not that she wanted him to notice her, she amended quickly, especially if it meant she didn’t have to make conversation.
“Are you following me?” she asked coolly, rolling her eyes at the faint huskiness in her voice.
So much for not wanting conversation.
He turned his head and their eyes met for a couple of beats until Holly felt the soles of her feet tingle. “I’m headed home,” he said mildly. “Although… I could probably be talked into dinner somewhere dark and smoky.”
She caught his harmlessly hopeful smile, which did absolutely nothing to reassure her—especially when his eyes gleamed all wickedly amused and challenging. But it was the smoldering heat in them that stole all her bones right along with her breath and common sense.
Gabriel Alexander was about as harmless as a tiger in a supermarket and had most likely perfected the art of seduction before he could walk.
“No? Coffee, then?” he suggested in that deep hypnotic voice that invited women to do things they wouldn’t normally do. Things she wouldn’t normally do, but was suddenly tempted to try. “Besides being starving, I thought I might be useful.”
Useful? Holly licked her lips. Completely against her wishes, her thoughts turned recklessly to just how useful he could be—to her exercise plan, of course—and then wondered if she was advertising her thoughts like a neon sign in the desert when his teeth flashed white in his handsome, tanned face. And because the notion flustered her, she blurted out, “Did you know that silicone is a better choice than rubber for medical purposes because it is more heat- and UV-resistant?”
Realizing what she’d said, she squeezed her eyes shut and prayed for death. Ohmigod. Wouldn’t it be easier to just walk into the nearest wall? Or maybe step out into traffic? Because clearly the man just had to look at her and her mouth disconnected from her brain.
“It’s also better at resisting chemical and fungal attacks, which makes it more durable,” she finished miserably and when he made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle she glared at him, only to find him looking back at her with polite interest—as if blurting out random stuff was normal.
“Now, that I do know,” he revealed, hitching a shoulder in a smooth, boneless move that she envied. “I spent most of the eighth grade water-bombing the girls’ locker room. The fact that latex is so flexible means it’s more prone to breaking when stretched beyond its limits.” His teeth flashed. “But don’t worry, you’re safe. I’ve grown out of the urge to hear girls scream at the sight of latex.”
Yeah, right, Holly thought a little hysterically. Safe, my eye. He was probably still making women scream—before wreaking havoc with their hearts.
And when she felt queasy at the thought of him making some faceless woman scream, she turned away from his appealing smile before she gave in to the urge to return it—or maybe smack him for making her forget her plan.
Just then the automatic doors opened to reveal a uniformed porter and Holly could have kissed the older man in sheer relief.
On seeing her, the porter’s face broke into a wide, craggy smile. “Evening, Doc,” he greeted her in his heavy Brooklyn accent. “No big date tonight?” Holly shook her head as she did every time he asked and he clicked his tongue, sending the man beside her a reproving look. “It’s a sad day when a beautiful girl doesn’t have someone to wine and dine her at one of those fancy downtown restaurants. What is the world coming to?”
Dr. Alexander sent her a silent look and shrugged as if to say, I did offer. Narrowing her eyes, Holly was seriously
