Page 6 of Prognosis Temporary

It would certainly be a very welcome change of pace. Exactly what he craved after the chaos, the day-to-day tensions of his last gig. Exactly what he needed before heading back to his private practice and the real world.

It was gratifying to see that none of them were too awed by his reputation and he quickly slipped into a groove with all of them except Callie. She was distracted.

And distracting.

The way she talked and smiled as she indulged in banter with her friends was distracting. The way she dropped her head to one side as she listened and absently ran the silver pendant at her throat along its chain, was distracting. And when she laughed?

Very distracting.

Full and throaty as if it had come all the way from her toes, her eyes crinkling, her head tossing, her neck bared to view. Other diners looked around at her laughter and smiled.

And then there was the enticing shadow of that deep V neckline and the soft cling of fabric to her breasts. And the way, when their gazes swept each other’s paths, like two opposing lighthouse signals, there was the merest pause before hers skittered away. But in that fraction of time, it was as if they were the only two people in the restaurant.

It was actually kind of exhausting, this level of awareness. The slow but inexorable build of tension tightening every muscle, sizzling along every nerve ending when all he wanted was to fast-forward to the end and the kiss that he knew, deep in his bones, was the inevitable conclusion.

The kiss that couldn’t happen fast enough.

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