Page 15 of Doctor Charmer

I shake my head, not sure what she is referring to.

“I joke, I tease, I get guys all worked up. You guys are so easy.” She says the lines, and I search my memory for what she’s said previously on this topic.

“I won’t kiss you, Dr. Morgan. If you are interested, if you want me—and from the look in your eye, you most certainly do—then you will need to be the one kissing me.”

It clicks. All talk. That’s what she said about herself. “Is this some type of game for you?” I hear the hypocrisy in my questions, and she calls me on it.

“Isn’t it to you? Five minutes.” She crosses her arms in front of her. “I was here five minutes before you began hitting on me.Not that I minded it, not one bit. It was a welcome distraction from everything going on at the time.” Her hands lower, and her gaze locks with mine. “But if for a second you think I was going to fall for a man like you, who looks like you, who acts the way you do, you really must be dreaming.”

I feel my ego deflating with every syllable from her mouth. I was dreaming. For a moment there, I believed. I thought she might be real. That this thing I’m feeling was shared by her. I kick myself for believing even for a bit.

I take a step back on unsteady legs. I try to hide the wound she’s inflicted with the one weapon I’ve mastered. “Wanna bet on it?” Bluster.

Her feet march a step forward, taking her under the mistletoe. She glances up, realizing where she is, and rather than step in my direction, she hops to her left. “Bet? What are you, twelve?”

I cross my arms. Two can play the indignant card. “I know you want to kiss me. And probably a lot more.”

“Oh, there is most certainly something I want to do to you right now.” For the first time, I see fire in her eyes. The competitive inferno every athlete carries. Good, I’ve just lit the flame. “And the best part is we’re already at a hospital in the emergency room. No ambulance required.”

“Do it?” I dare her, and she steps into my personal space. She projects fake anger, her adorable smirk just below the surface of her insincere grimace. The thumping in my chest returns, my attraction to her overwhelming. I so want to kiss this woman.

“Fine,” she grunts.

“What?” Did she just say what I thought she said?

“I said fine. We’ll play your silly schoolyard game. I have a few days and will spend them here at the hospital with my team. I’ll play your stupid game to fight off the boredom.”

“So, the options are me or boredom?” I joke, happy to cross back to our normal rhythm.

“Pretty much. Desperate times…” She lets the phrase hang in air, her insult not landing. I’m still stunned she’s agreed. Or has she?

“First one to kiss the other… loses.” I lay out the ground rules, making my intent clear.

“And what do I get when you lose?”

I snicker at her overconfidence. Since I implemented the rule several years ago, no woman has been able to make me break it. I’ve not even entertained the thought up to now.

“Besides the pleasure of kissing me?”

“If that’s the prize, I’ll choose door number two.” Her heartbreak smile reminds me of the tremendous disadvantage I’ll be competing with.

I uncross my arms, unsure of a response. I never thought she’d agree. I know what I want if I win, but I won’t say it out loud. It would merely validate every one of her assumptions. “How about this? If you win, I give you an all-day pass to Eastport’s finest spa. Mani, Pedi, Swedish massage, sauna, hot tub, the works. You get to hang up the heavy load of looking after everyone else for a day and be pampered in a way you never let yourself be.”

Her hand presses to her chest as if I’ve read her mind. It’s not that difficult. Every second I’ve known her, she’s been caring for others. From Griffin at the scene of the accident, in my ER, and even last evening, rushing back to get everyone settled in the hotel. I get the sense no one’s taken care of her in some time.

“That’s a lot, Reggie. I thought we were talking about something like a magazine from the gift shop.” She deflects, but I won’t allow it.

“It’s not a lot, not for someone with a heart as big as yours.”

“I’m totally going to win now.” She nibbles on her lower lip, and I sense the wheels turning in her head. “And if you win…”

I wait, and she lets me dangle in the wind, knowing my mind is conjuring up inappropriate thoughts.

“Yeah, that’ll do,” she says, glancing up at the mistletoe. “We both know what you want—me…” I feel my breath hitch with her words. “One-on-one.” She’s a dangerous siren luring me out to the deepest depths of the ocean on a leaky boat without a life vest. “A private, one-on-one volleyball practice session wearing the inappropriate shorts I can’t wear in front of the team.”

My eyes naturally lower to the spray-painted-on black shorts, and I can’t imagine anything sexier. She knows what she’s saying. She knows what she’s doing. She knows how I will react.

She raises her arms above her head, that T-shirt rising again. She lifts to the tips of her toes and does a slow spin to allow me to enjoy the view of the shorts. She has no intention of playing fair. A sliver of her toned abs shines bright, practically calling my name.

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