Page 5 of Secret Baby for Dr. Grump

“It’s nice to officially meet you.” James nods at her. “I’ve reviewed your resume and interview and am impressed, so I hope you continue to impress us here, Miss Davis.”

She nods back and smiles, then finally turns to look at me. Since I’m taller than James, those green eyes flicker up, a brief contact that sends an immediate zing down my bones. Then it’s gone as she settles her gaze somewhere under my eyes.

I’m still stunned, but even more shocking is that she doesn’t seem shocked by all this. Does she already know that I work here? That she’ll be working with me?

“Do you know her, Luke?”

Yes. She’s also I-know-how-tight-you-feel familiar. As soon as my body responds, I promptly school my expression and fight every physical reaction.

“No.” It’s her who answers. Liv. “We haven’t met before.”

The words and James’s question put me on alert, realizing that she is trying to disassociate from me as much as she can. I know the rules here in the hospital, but the way she voices it out is so cool and detached that my back goes up. Lies.

You knew me. You knew how to make me laugh. You knew how to make me groan.

You knew how to make me lose control that night.

Then she left me in the dust.

“I see. Well, then, before you get any more worked up about those files, let me get out of your way so you two can get acquainted and start discussing work. I’ll see you guys around.”

James is quick to leave, with Rose not far behind. Then it’s just us and I’m still reeling.

I look at her. I can’t help it, assaulted by the sight that I’ve forgotten all these years. Her blonde hair’s up in a ponytail and she has no makeup on except for the pink tinge on her lips.

And those green eyes, they’re brighter than ever and still not looking at me.

“Olivia Davis. Is that your full name?”

She jolts at my voice, then finally looks up. When our gazes meet for the second time, a sense of familiarity connects us and returns me to a moment filled with desire, a shattering. She nods.

“Yes. It’s my full name.”

“My eyes are up here.”

Her chin lifts as she forcibly meets my gaze for the third time.

“Yes.” She repeats it more firmly. “That’s my full name, Dr. Jennings.”

So painfully polite. A memory of meeting at that bar where I was just having a drink comes back to mind, particularly the weariness in her shoulders and the way she looked like she was so ready to unwind and get drunk. The conversation’s a blur, but I remember a few things.

She listened to me. I listened to her. We laughed and forgot about our shitty day—me with my divorce finalization and hers with her stressful, unmentioned job—before things took a turn as we became softer, flirtier.

I might have started the flirting, but she flirted back. I might have started suggesting we go up to my room, but she was game, and oh, how game she was, indeed, when she jumped me in that room and I jumped her back. Every nerve ending stirs at the more distinct memory of our frenzied bodies taking what the other offered.

It started as a game, with each of us determined to outdo the other pleasure-wise, but that game quickly crumbled as the pleasure took a turn and became more intense than either of us anticipated. Then the game quickly became a desperate plea as we brought each other to the brink—again and again.

Yes, we screwed each other’s brains out. Fucked each other to oblivion. But we also saw each other in ways that no one did, building something intimate and unforgettable in that small, dark space, or so I thought.

Because the woman before me now? She’s cold as ice. Aloof.

She’s not the warm, responsive woman who blew my mind and rocked my world that night.

“So, are we just going to pretend that we don’t know each other?” I ask.

I wish I can see that soft, vulnerable woman again who gave herself to me completely, but she’s not here. Olivia lifts her chin again.

“We don’t know each other, Dr. Jennings.”

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