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Hot Single Docs: Meeting His Match: NYC Angels: The Wallflower's Secret / NYC Angels: Flirting with Danger / NYC Angels: Tempting Nurse Scarlet
Hot Single Docs: Meeting His Match: NYC Angels: The Wallflower's Secret / NYC Angels: Flirting with Danger / NYC Angels: Tempting Nurse Scarlet
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Hot Single Docs: Meeting His Match: NYC Angels: The Wallflower's Secret / NYC Angels: Flirting with Danger / NYC Angels: Tempting Nurse Scarlet

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He took a step toward her. “Are you finished?” he said between clenched teeth.

She hesitated. “No. Actually, I’m not.” Her voice rose, which she almost never allowed to happen. “Fear not, I’ll never confide anything of a personal nature again to you.”

With that said, she turned and stalked out the door. Her hands shook and her knuckles had turned white where they were balled beside her. The clacking of her heels on the tile hallway matched the beat of her racing heart.

Boy, that had felt good. Liberating. She’d had no idea how much pain and anguish she’d kept bottled up. Maybe Ryan didn’t deserve the full blast of the emotions she’d kept in check over the last few months. Heck, yeah, he did. He’d been a real jerk. The release had been freeing. She’d been stupid to ever think they could be friends.

It had been empowering. To let go for once. To fight for herself.

She would’ve dealt with her feelings about him backing away from her in private, but when it came into the patient care area she’d had to draw a line. Then she’d had to say something. She smiled. She’d lectured, more like.

Heading for her office, she passed a nurse who said, “Hi, Lucy.” She gave her a bright smile. The nurse gave her a funny look but returned Lucy’s smile. She was relieved to find her office empty. She didn’t want to discuss what had just happened with anyone while she was still feeling mad. If she did, the other person would be so surprised to know she had just told off the wonderful, charming, friend-to-all-the-nurses-and-patients Dr. Ryan O’Doherty. Haw!

That was, everyone but her.

Was she jealous because he didn’t treat her the same? No, that couldn’t be. Maybe it was. He had at least made it known that he appreciated her contributions in the last week. She had just read him wrongly. He didn’t like her. She could deal with that. What really annoyed her was that she liked him.

The light on her computer blinked, indicating she had a message. Tapping a key with more force than necessary, her email inbox opened. She scanned it. The message was from Mr. Matherson in HR. He requested that she and Ryan attend Jack Carter’s going-away party together as a sign that the co-ordinated patient care program was working.

“Great. Just great.” She was starting to agree with Ryan’s negative view of this program.

A new message came up. The address indicated it was from Ryan. She clicked. His terse message read: “Assume you received same email. Will pick you up at seven.”

CHAPTER FOUR (#u460ad609-b476-5fb6-8cb9-6ba089870f95)

RYAN STEPPED ONTO the landing of the third floor above Volpentesta’s Restaurant and studied the glossily painted doors. Lucy’s response to his email had been “Third floor, red door.” That had been the sum total of their personal communication since she had stalked out of his office.

During rounds she’d made it a point not to stand near him. To make the Siberian, dead-of-winter, glacial temperature between them worse, she seemed even sunnier and happier to see the patients and the other staff members than usual. None of that sunshine fell on him.

If she’d had a question about a patient she’d turned to his clinical nurse for answers. Even when Miguel had had a high fever while still in ICU and Ryan had had a real concern that the boy might require another trip to surgery, it hadn’t been him Lucy had turned to for information in order to reassure the parents.

He’d been concerned about her reaction to Miguel’s downturn but he wouldn’t let himself ask her about it. He wasn’t going to that place he’d been during his father’s illness. But, still, he cared.

Lucy couldn’t have made it clearer that she had no use for him if she’d shouted it over the intercom. It had been the longest week of his life.

Wasn’t that the way he’d wanted it? Yeah, but living in exile hadn’t turned out to be as easy as he’d thought.

For heaven’s sake, he did brain surgery for a living, on children no less, and the quiet, unassuming woman had rattled his world. He suspected this would be the least agreeable date he’d ever been on. With resigned steps he approached her door and paused for a second before knocking. He’d not been this nervous since he’d done his first solo surgery. This woman wouldn’t intimidate him, he refused to allow it.

Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, he tapped on the door. It opened with a suddenness that startled him.

“I’m ready,” Lucy said in a snippy voice.

Her anger hadn’t cooled. Instead of making him mad, she’d managed to make him feel guilty. He didn’t like that feeling at all.

Lucy stepped out into the landing and pulled the door closed behind her. Her coat was already on and buttoned. A scarf in shades of pink orbited her neck. There was a faint smell of wildflowers about her.

Recovering from the shock of her sudden appearance, he found his breath caught in a stranglehold with the realization that Lucy’s hair was down. He’d never seen it anything less than under control. Tonight it hung in honey-gold ringlets around her face and down her back. Way down her back. He’d imagined, more than once, what the mass would look like set free but none of his ideas had come near the reality. Her hair was outstanding, glorious, mesmerizing. If he could only touch...

He lifted a hand. She jerked back as if burnt.

That hurt. Could the little boy caught with his hand in a cookie jar have felt any more humiliated? Disappointed? “After you,” he mumbled as he moved back to let her precede him.

He watched in fascination as her wheat-colored mane bounced across her back as she went down the stairs. Her hair stood out in contrast against the chocolate color of her coat. He’d always thought of himself as a leg man but in this case that might not be accurate. What would it be like to have that curtain of gorgeous hair hanging above him while her eyes twinkled at him and her mouth lowered to his? He groaned low in his chest.

She glanced back at him. The unwelcoming look on her face said Don’t you dare before it continued down. The woman couldn’t possibly know his thoughts, could she?

He had to get control of his libido or the night would be even more difficult than he’d originally assumed. Lucy was already angry with him and lusting after her wouldn’t make her happier. Grateful for the cold blast of wind that met him straight on when he stepped out of the building, he squared his shoulders. He could do this. If he had to, he’d walk outside when the need to touch her became too strong. Maybe they could get away with putting in an appearance then leaving.

Lucy turned and looked at him as if asking what came next.

“This way.” He stepped toward the restaurant valet attendant, resisting the urge to cup her elbow. She walked beside him but not so close that they touched. He handed the parking slip to the attendant.

Her eyes went wide. “You’re driving? I thought we’d take a taxi.”

“Not tonight.”

When the attendant pulled the low, two-seater sports car in front of them Ryan had the pleasure of watching as Lucy’s mouth form an O. He grinned. She liked his car. Lucy allowed his touch as he helped her into the car. A ringlet of her heavenly hair curled along his arm. He took his chance and touched it briefly. So soft.

Closing her door, he walked around the vehicle, bracing himself to be confined in a small space with a woman snapping mad at him. Could her anger and his lust coexist without turning to fireworks before they made it to the Ritz?

* * *

Lucy looked away from the stop-and-go traffic as they worked their way up Fifth Avenue. She studied Ryan’s profile by the glow of the city lights. The luminous yellows, greens, oranges and blues flashed across his straight nose and firm jaw. By anyone’s definition Ryan was handsome. When he smiled, breathtakingly so. But being attractive was only surface deep. Where it really counted, he’d let her down. He’d pushed her away. She didn’t like someone playing tug of war with her emotions.

Ryan glanced at her and she quickly looked away.

“Everything okay?”

“You mean besides us being forced to attend this party together?”

“You do know it wasn’t my idea.” His words were as flat as a table.

She sighed. “I know.” Silence filled the space between them as if they were strangers.

Minutes later Ryan said, “I had no idea you had so much hair. You always keep it up or in a braid.”

“Too much. I grow it for Locks for Life.”

“What’s that?”

“I give my hair to make wigs for cancer patients.”

Had he mumbled “What a shame”?

“Does your twin have the same kind of hair?”

“No. We’re not identical.”

“It’s beautiful, you know.”

Warmth that had nothing to do with the car heater blanketed her, but she wasn’t going to be pulled in by him again. She no longer trusted him but she couldn’t deny it felt good to receive a compliment from such a virile man. “Thank you, but you do know that you don’t have to pay me compliments. I’m not your date who needs to be charmed. This is a business party.”

“I’m sorry if giving you sincere praise and making conversation disturbs you.”

“Let’s just get through this evening with as little personal conversation as possible.”

“I’m not promising that.”

They had stopped at the next light before she spoke again. “I didn’t think anyone who lived in the city drove.”

“I don’t drive often but I like to when I can. You know, this could almost be considered a personal topic.” The smile in his voice shone through clearly.

Lucy huffed. The man was making fun of her. Typical male. Have it out and move on as if nothing had happened. That didn’t work for her. She was still upset with him.

Getting through the party was going to be a challenge, with Ryan’s charm swirling around and his talent for exasperating her. The evening could go one of two ways. She could blow up at him again or fall at his feet. The latter she couldn’t let happen. Compounding the problem was that if she’d noticed how handsome he was on a daily basis it didn’t come close to how fine he looked tonight.

His jet-black tux fit his shoulders to perfection. A tall man, his formal dress had seemed to make him tower over her as he’d helped her into the car. The stark white of his shirt accented his dark skin. The entire package screamed man of power. His haircut didn’t completely control the thickness of his locks. Was it soft or bristly to the touch? Those thoughts were better left in a drawer. She gulped and held her purse in a death grip as she resisted the urge to touch him.

She made a resolution. Her goal was threefold: get through the party; return home; and prepare herself to be professional again on Monday. The other day Ryan had made it clear he wasn’t interested in discussing anything close to being deeply personal. She’d be glad to honor that.

There was no doubt in her mind that she wouldn’t have been his date if it hadn’t been necessary to keep in the good graces of the hospital. She just hated the tension that hung between them. It was a strain to always be on guard. At one time she’d thought they might be friends. Could have been if he’d not treated her as if she’d done something wrong by showing her feelings.

Ryan pulled the car skillfully to the curb in front of the brass doors of the Ritz. The attendant opened her door but Ryan was there to help her out. He offered his hand and she placed hers in it but let go as soon as she was on the sidewalk. She liked his touch too much. He opened the door of the hotel for her like the gentleman he’d been taught to be. The O’Doherty way didn’t extend to friendship apparently.

Only by hanging onto her anger did she manage not to step closer to him and breathe in his scent. He smelled of tropical islands and salt breezes. It would’ve been heavenly to be escorted by such a dazzling man if he’d wanted to be with her. But he didn’t.

She was relieved Ryan didn’t offer his arm but instead followed a half a pace behind her as they entered the hotel. Close enough for her to feel protected by his large body but not overpowered. The zing she’d experienced when she’d touched his hand as he helped her out of the car still lingered. She could only imagine the extent of her reaction if she’d held his arm.

They walked across the marble-tiled hotel lobby towards the ornate circular staircase. She glanced back at Ryan. His attention was on Dr. Rodriguez, who was pacing nearby while talking on his phone.

When Ryan met her look his lips were tightly compressed. He cupped her elbow and they continued forward. “I’d like us to get through this evening as civilly as possible,” he said as they climbed the stairs. His relaxed attitude had been replaced by one of a man on a mission. “This is important to my career and yours as well, I’d guess.”

She looked at him. It hadn’t been a good idea to look into his beautiful persuasive eyes. After swallowing hard, she said, “I don’t see a problem. I’ll play my part.”

His brows took a downward turn as if he wasn’t completely pleased with her response. “Then there shouldn’t be an issue.”

“Agreed.”

As couples passed them on the stairs, Ryan moved closer to her to accommodate them. “Smile. You look like I’m escorting you to the guillotine.” She gave him a wry smile.

“See, that isn’t so hard.” His breath whispered across her cheek.

A shiver shot through her. Being drawn in by his charisma wasn’t part of the plan. She had a part to play that couldn’t include falling for him.

Reaching the top of the stairs, they walked through the double doors into a room filled with people mingling. Attending this function with Ryan had not been her choice but she was still grateful to have him there. In a twisted bit of irony he was her anchor in a sea of unknown people. “I’d like to check my coat.”

“Sure. While you’re doing that I’ll get us some champagne.”

She didn’t usually drink, or at least hadn’t in a long time. While she’d been carrying Emily it had been off limits. At that time, everything in her life had revolved around the pregnancy. Now her life rotated around trying to get past it. Lucy handed her coat to the girl behind the counter and slipped the check ticket into her sequin-trimmed handbag. Fanning her scarf out, she adjusted it across her shoulders.

She’d had to shop on the fly after receiving the emails from Matherson, then Ryan. The second-hand consignment store a block away had saved the day. With pure relief, she’d found her dress. The instant she’d tried it on she’d known it was the one.

The salmon shade was the perfect color for her. It added life to her cheeks that hadn’t been there for ages. The front dipped a little too low but it showed off her breasts to their best advantage. Two straps crisscrossed her back and the silky fabric fit snugly around the bodice and hips to drop into a cloud of folds. The dress bolstered her confidence, which she desperately needed tonight. She pushed her hair over one shoulder and licked her lips. Having done all she could to brace herself, she went in search of Ryan.

She spotted him leaning on an elbow at a high cocktail table. A champagne flute sat in front of him and the other he held by his fingertips. He was like James Bond, dashing and just as dangerous. She’d have to remind herself constantly of how disenchanted she was with him or he’d sweep her off her feet before she knew what had happened.

Ryan watched a group of people standing across the room before his head turned and his focus rested on Lucy. He blinked then straightened to his full height. He stared. Lucy’s heart fluttered. He took a long draw on the liquid from the glass he still held before he set the flute down. With long strides he came to meet her.

He stopped in front of her and leaned in intimately close. “You may get angry, and I know this will step over into the personal area, but, damn, you’re beautiful.”

Heat flooded her neck and face. Grateful for the low lighting, she smiled. “Thank you. I think I’ll let you get away with it this time.”

He laughed. The deep, rough sound flowed over her.

It was dangerous to be out with him. They’d been together less than an hour and she was already having difficulty keeping up her guard. To have someone tell her she was beautiful and look at her as if she belonged to him, as Ryan was doing now, was all she’d ever wanted. To belong. Be accepted. To have a little niche in the world that was hers alone. Like her sister had.

Ryan’s pleasure remained on his face and her stomach did a loop the loop. That smile was for her.

“Come on, have some champagne. Then we’ll make the rounds and do our duty.” He led her back to the table where he’d stood and handed her a flute.

She glanced at the floor, forcing her emotions under control. How could he look at her like that while the words out of his mouth said he’d like to be as far from her as possible? She took the champagne. Maybe the liquid courage would help with the confusion she felt.

“Just try a sip or two. It’ll help calm your nerves.” Ryan raised his glass to his lips.

“How do you know my nerves need calming?”

“Your hands are trembling.”

Great. After days of making her feel like a wall ornament he passed without notice, now he was paying attention to her. She did need to settle her nerves.

She sipped the gold liquid and enjoyed the bubbles playing a melody in her mouth before she replaced the flute on the table. Clasping her hands to appear calm, she said, “The email invitation implied that we should sign a pledge card to help raise money for the clinic in Harlem.”

Ryan grinned. “Yeah. It didn’t take Jack long to get on board, with Nina doing the convincing.”

“I’d like to take care of that before I forget.”

“Good idea. I think that’s being done at a table over there.” He pointed to the other side of the room.

“You lead,” Ryan told her. Lucy turned and stared in the direction he’d suggested. Ryan placed a hand at her back and shock waves rippled through him. He’d touched bare skin. He jerked his hand away as if he’d been branded. One more surprise and he would be dragging her out of here to someplace private. She looked like sin and smelled like spring.

Lucy didn’t slow down as she worked her way through and around the people standing in groups, talking. He drew in a breath and followed her. He’d have sworn he’d been sucker-punched when she’d walked towards him. The simply but functionally dressed family counselor had transformed into a sultry siren of sensuality. Nothing about her indicated she’d once carried a baby.

He didn’t care if she thought it was being too personal to say she was beautiful. He couldn’t help himself. He’d not been the only one staring at Lucy. And he didn’t like it. Suddenly he wanted her all to himself. That wasn’t a realistic wish.

Lucy and he had just broken out into an open area and were headed towards the pledge table when his name was called.

“Ryan O’Doherty. I had hoped to see you here.”