Six Sexy Doctors Part 2. Joanna Neil
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paused to stare at herself in the small framed mirror that hung on the wall.
Her hair remained pulled up in a loose ponytail, her face was clean-scrubbed, and she wore shorts and a T-shirt. But it was the dark circles and puffiness around her eyes that stood out most. She looked haggard even to her own eyes.
Maybe that explained Adam’s recent avoidance.
Or maybe if she’d quit procrastinating and open the door, she’d know exactly what the problem was.
“Who’s there?” she asked, her hand hesitating on the safety chain until she’d verified who was at the door.
“Adam.”
Barely able to contain her happiness, she undid the chain and lock and stared in horror at the man who’d become so entangled with her very being.
He looked awful.
Even more so than she did. His hair was ruffled from him having repeatedly run his fingers through it. His face was pale, gaunt. And his eyes. Never had she seen such lost blue chasms indenting his face. Deep blue orbs that threatened to drown anyone who looked too closely.
“Adam? What’s happened?” She reached for him, stopping short when he jerked back before her fingers made contact. As if he feared her touch.
“Adam?” she asked, uncertain how to take his reaction.
His gaze shot beyond her, never connecting with her face.
That’s when she got a whiff of him. Still wonderfully masculine Adam. Spicy, musky, sexy, intoxicating to her senses, but something more. Something intoxicating in a very different way. A way very unlike Adam.
He’d been drinking, and not just the glass of wine they occasionally shared.
She stared at him, wondering if he was drunk.
At least that would explain his strange behavior.
Liz’s anxiety increased tenfold. What was going on?
“Adam, has something bad happened?” She lifted her hand to touch him, almost crying out when he grimaced. “Tell me what’s wrong. Please, Adam. I know something is wrong. Tell me.”
Oh, Adam.
“Invite me in,” he ground out in a voice she barely recognized as his. A voice that bordered on angry, cold, devoid of any feelings for her. “There is something I have to tell you, and I’d rather not do so standing in your doorway smelling these damned roses.”
Liz’s heart sank. Something bad had happened.
Or was about to happen.
Was Adam breaking up with her?
Had she been wrong in her confidence in their love?
All the feelings of the past, feelings of those who loved her walking away, slammed full force into her, usurping her belief in her ability to be loved.
No, she reminded herself, Gramps loved you. You are lovable.
But still childhood wounds opened. Her confidence wavered and she couldn’t meet Adam’s eyes.
“Come in,” she said, and spun away, fighting tears.
She walked over to the sofa where she’d been sitting and picked up her plate. She really had no appetite, but needed her hands busy so she forked up a bite. Forced her mouth around the tasteless food.
He stood, watching her eat, making swallowing seem impossible beneath his stare.
“Good to see you’re eating. You’ve lost weight and look awful.”
What? She lifted her gaze to glare. “You come into my house and criticize me?” She couldn’t help the defensiveness in her voice. Kelly had told her pretty much the same thing only minutes before, but that was her friend who hadn’t been shunning her. Not someone who had been giving her the cold shoulder and winced when she’d reached for him.
“Stating the obvious isn’t criticizing,” he said matter-of-factly.
She dropped her gaze back to her plate, staring at a crouton, wishing he’d sit down so he wouldn’t tower over her, wishing she understood what was going on, afraid of what that understanding might bring with it.
She closed her eyes, hoping all the warning bells sounding in her head were wrong.
“The past few weeks have been strained.”
He had no idea.
“You’ve avoided me,” she accused softly, struggling to keep her earlier defensiveness from slipping back into her voice. “I don’t understand what’s going on between us, Adam. If I’ve done something, just tell me. We’ll discuss it and figure out how to make it right.” She gulped. “If you don’t want to make it right, well, we’ll figure that out, too. Just tell me what’s going on so I can understand.”
His frustration became a palpable pulse between them. Without looking, she knew he raked his fingers through his hair. It’s what he did when searching that genius mind of his for a solution to a problem.
Unfortunately, she was the problem.
Although she wanted to hang onto her faith in his feelings for her like a protective shield, she felt loss prickling at her soul, robbing her strength to hold herself together.
No. No. No. She would not cry. She wouldn’t.
“Liz, I… You…” His voice broke, as if he was struggling as much as she was. As if he battled within himself and didn’t know how to deal with whatever ailed him.
She glanced up, needing to see what was on his face, in his heart, because for the life of her she just didn’t understand what was happening between them.
He’d jerked away from her touch.
“Aw, Liz, I can’t do what I came to do.” With those strangled words he took her hands, pulled her to her feet and into his arms. “Lord, forgive me,” he whispered into her hair, “but I just can’t.”
Can’t what? she wondered, meant to ask, but he held her tight, closed his eyes and nuzzled her neck, inhaling her scent. Held her like he’d missed her every bit as much as she’d missed him, maybe more.
“Liz,” he moaned. “My sweet, beautiful Liz.”
His lips covered hers. Not a slow and tender kiss, but the kiss of a desperate man, a man who wanted her and couldn’t go one more moment without kissing her. A man who needed her.
Her brain warned that she should stop him, that things weren’t right between them. That something terrible had been going on for the past few weeks. That she’d gotten the impression he’d come to break off their relationship.
She knew all those things, but she couldn’t stop Adam any more than she could stop the sun from rising. Not when he was so clearly tormented, when he so clearly did need her.
She melted against the man she loved.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers tangled in his hair, and she moaned as he pressed her tightly to him. His big hands caressed her back, molded her hips, cupped her buttocks in gentle but insistent motions.
He touched her, caressed her, kissed her, whispered sweet words of endearment to her.
This was insane. Her pride urged her to take heed, to stop and demand where he got his nerve to be on the verge of breaking her heart one moment and making love to her the next. But pride was a poor friend, a poor lover, poor company, period.
Still, pride was all she really had these days.
That thought was strong enough to cause her to twist her mouth free just as his hands slid beneath her T-shirt. “Not like this. Not when I don’t understand. Tell me, Adam. Tell me what’s going on. What’s happening between us.”
“Liz.” He leaned