With a glass of white wine in her hand, she kicked off her high heels and watched television in her suite at the hotel.
She closed her eyes. Soon enough she would be in Italy with a gorgeous Italian man keeping her company. She smiled at the image, but soon another image flashed in its place. Ryder, sans shirt, stood before her and dragged her into his arms and began to make love to her. He was so hot that smoke rose between them, but the sensation of his skin against hers made her dizzy. His kiss made her knees weak. He made her want in a way she never had….
She felt herself sinking into the couch, her body warm and pliable. And alone.
Bridget blinked and sat up against the couch. This was just wrong. He’d already said they wouldn’t work because of who he was, because of who she was. A part of her rebelled against the notion one moment. The next, she didn’t. She didn’t have room for this drama in her life. She had goals. She had Italy in her future.
Bridget washed her face and brushed her teeth, determined to put Ryder from her mind. As she fell asleep, though, she dreamed of Ryder and the boys.
A few days later, Ryder followed up on a surgery patient midday. The young man had been admitted to the E.R. with appendicitis. Ryder had operated and needed to give his stamp of approval for the teen to be discharged. He was stopped because there was filming in the pediatric unit.
Slightly irritated, he checked his text messages on his cell and answered a few.
“She’s a princess making a video,” one nurse said to another.
He snapped his head up at the comment. “Princess?” he repeated.
“Yes,” the nurse said. “But she’s very nice. Not at all snooty. I got her coffee and she was very grateful. More than a lot of doctors.”
“She wasn’t trying to save lives,” Ryder said.
The nurse shrugged. “Anyone can say please and thank you, and she did.”
Minutes later, Bridget appeared, lighting up the room with her smile. The chief of Pediatrics accompanied her, clearly dazzled.
“Thank you,” she said. “Thank you so much from Chantaine and me. You have been wonderful.”
“Isn’t she wonderful? Now that is a princess,” the nurse said.
Ryder wanted to make a wry, cynical response, but he was too busy staring at Bridget. And the damned pediatric chief. She seemed to glow. He remembered how she’d felt in his arms, how that wicked red mouth had felt against his. He remembered how she’d made him smile. Not many people had managed to do that during the last few months.
She squeezed the pediatrics chief’s arm, then glanced around the room and waved. Her gaze locked with his and he felt a surge of need all the way down to his feet. It was sexual, but more, and confused the hell out of him. She gave a quick little wave and returned her attention to the pediatric chief.
Ryder felt an inexplicable surge of jealousy. Where the hell had that come from? Pushing it aside, he continued to his patient’s room for the final exam. Less than five minutes later, he headed down the hallway toward his office. Rounding a corner, he nearly plowed into Bridget and Dr. Ware, the pediatrics chief, who was chatting her up. His body language said he wanted to eat her with a spoon. His hand placed on the wall above her head, he leaned toward her. Ryder fought the crazy urge to push him away, but turned his head instead.
“Ryder. Dr. McCall,” Bridget said.
He slowed his steps and turned around and nodded in her direction.
“How are you? The twins? The new nanny?” she asked, her gaze searching his.
Ware stepped beside her. “Whoa, she knows a lot about you, McCall. How did that happen?”
Ryder shrugged. “Just lucky, I guess. I’m good. The twins are good and the new nanny is fantastic. I could say I owe you my life, but I’d be afraid you’d take it.”
She shot him a look of mock offense. “You know better than that. Besides, it’s not your life that I want,” she said with a laugh.
Ware looked from one of them to the other, clearly curious. “What does she want? And why in the world wouldn’t you give it to her?”
“She wants my residents,” he said, meeting her gaze.
“After they’ve completed your program,” she insisted. “Plus, I only want to borrow them for a couple of years, and they’ll be well compensated.”
“You could throw her one or—” Dr. Ware’s pager sounded. “Please excuse me. I need to go. You have my card, Your Highness. Give me a call. Anytime,” he said with a hopeful smile and rushed away.
Bridget sighed and turned to Ryder. “Are you going to do the civilized thing and ask me to join you for lunch?”
“If I haven’t been civilized before, why should I start now?” Ryder retorted because Bridget made him feel anything but civilized.
“I suppose because you owe me your life,” she said with a glint in her eyes.
He gave a muffled chuckle. “Okay, come along. I better warn you that lunch won’t last longer than fifteen minutes.”
“Ah, so you’re into quickies. What a shame,” she said and began to walk.
“I didn’t say that,” he said, but resisted the urge to pull at his collar which suddenly felt too tight.
“I can’t say I’m surprised. All evidence points in that direction.”
“How did we get on this subject?” he asked.
“You said you wouldn’t last more than fifteen minutes,” she said, meeting his gaze with eyes so wide and guileless that he wondered how she did it.
“I said lunch won’t last—” He broke when he saw her smile. “Okay, you got me on that one. I hope you don’t mind cafeteria food.”
“Not at all,” she said as they walked into the cafeteria.
He noticed several people stared in their direction, but she seemed to ignore it. They each chose a couple dishes and he paid for both, then guided her to a less-occupied table at the back of the room. “How did your video go today?”
“Hopefully, well. I interviewed Dr. Ware about preventative health for children. I also need to do one for adults. But enough about that. How are the twins?” she asked, clearly eager for information.
“I think the new nanny is making a big difference for them. This is the most calm I’ve seen them since I took custody of them,” he said. “The nanny also suggested that I do some extra activities with them, but I haven’t worked that into the schedule yet.”
“What kind of activities?” she asked, and took a bite of her chicken.
“Swimming,” he said then lowered his voice. “Baby yoga.”
“Oh. Do you take yoga?” she asked and sipped her hot tea.
“Never
