Luke. Jill Shalvis
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she backed out of his house.
Yeah, Red, I advise you to run like hell.
“Well, I’ll let you get on with getting ready….” She bit her lip as once more she ran her gaze down his body.
And this time, his body definitely reacted.
She took another few steps, backing down his porch now. “I’ll…uh…be waiting.”
It should have really ticked him off, but suddenly, that threat seemed far more like a promise. “Okay then,” he said, and wondered why maybe, just maybe, he’d be looking forward to it.
FAITH DROVE AROUND THE back of Healing Waters Clinic and parked, then glanced in her rearview mirror.
Yep, Dr. Luke Walker was still following her in his fancy car that screamed success. She’d heard so much about him before this morning, but no one, not a single soul, not a single article, had ever mentioned his see-through light blue eyes, his fiery expression, the incredible, drool-inducing body that brought to mind far too many things that had nothing, nothing at all, to do with doctoring.
Grabbing her purse, she took a quick moment to inhale a long, calming breath. She was an expert in long, calming breaths, and yet the technique utterly and completely failed her now.
Hell of a time to give up chocolate, as she could use it now. A vicious craving for the secret stash of almond Hershey Kisses in her glove box overcame her. Just one, she thought, and nearly reached for them….
But she heard his door shut and hastily straightened, getting out of her car to greet him with a cool, distant smile on her face that absolutely had better hide her thoughts—her desperate need for that chocolate, her unthinkable, ridiculous attraction to him—because the bottom line was, beneath that amazing flesh and sinew, beneath his remarkable talent, beat the cold heart of a man who’d blindly put down her clinic to untold hundreds.
Her success was important to her. After all, everyone in her family succeeded. It was sort of a McDowell requirement. But more than that, she wanted this for all the people out there she was convinced she could help in a way conventional medicine couldn’t.
And she wanted Luke to acknowledge that maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t the only one who could make a difference in others’ lives. She could too. And she’d prove it by showing him how invaluable the clinic could be.
Luke’s own face was unsmiling as he moved toward her, but it wasn’t even close to distant. He was still hot under the collar, and she had to say, the look was a good one on him. If one were to go for the dark, smoldering, attitude-ridden type of man.
Luckily, she didn’t. She didn’t go for any men—she didn’t have time.
Together they turned to face her building. As with all the buildings in South Village, this one dated back to the early 1900s but had been well preserved. The two-story brick structure had once been a brewery, fully restored in the fifties. Thanks to her green thumb, it was surrounded by greenery, wildflowers and herbs she grew herself to use in her clinic. The sign hanging in front proudly read Healing Waters.
It was her baby, brainstormed during all those long, long nights of working insane hours as a nurse practitioner. The days when science and conventional medicine had been the only way. The right way. The days when her ideas of going deeper, healing more than just the body, but also the heart and soul had been mocked and grossly misunderstood in the hustling, bustling world of the E.R. she’d worked at in San Diego.
She’d prepared for this, she’d studied, gotten accredited in a variety of naturopathic areas. Now she could run diagnostic procedures, give vaccinations, assist in natural childbirth and even write limited prescriptions.
Yes, she still worked long, long hours, but these days the crazy hours actually left her satisfied and fulfilled because she was following her dream, healing people in ways conventional medicine had failed them.
But all Luke knew was that she was interrupting his weekends. “Ready?” she asked, and when he nodded, she led the way inside. The staff room was filled with organized clutter; everyone’s personal belongings, files to be discussed, a small potted herbal garden she was babying along. As they walked through, she introduced him to any staff members they passed, while her mind raced ahead, trying to see the place as he would.
The waterfall in the reception area was on, the sound of the water cascading gently over a riverbed of rocks soothed the waiting patients, along with soft music she’d handpicked, the gentle lighting, and comfy ergonomic chairs. All in calming colors from the natural palette.
Definitely, deliberately, a world away from the E.R. Any E.R. “What do you think?”
“Well, no one is screaming in the waiting room,” Luke said. “Always a good sign. Hmm, I suppose I can forgive the beaded curtains behind the receptionist. Who do you have on staff?”
He was a man used to being in charge of everything and everyone around him, she reminded herself. She couldn’t fault that about him. He did have incredible skill, the reason she’d agreed to have him here in the first place. “Today we have two naturopathic practitioners, myself and Shelby Dodd, and also a massage therapist.” But adding an M.D. on staff, one with Luke’s prestige and incredible reputation, would surely boost her clientele.
And her checkbook. She hated to be so bottom-line about anything, but at the moment, hovering in the red, she had to be.
“Before we start,” he said in a low voice, turning from his inspection of the place to look at her. “I just want you to know, I never said the clinic was worthless.”
She stared up at his solemn features and nearly got lost in those light blue eyes. “The newspaper said—”
“They exaggerated.” When she raised a brow, he sighed. “The hospital let twenty-five housekeeping employees go, employees who were forced to work four hours a week less than the full-time hours required for full benefits. The hospital insisted on that to save money, and then they let them go anyway, stating budget issues. The next day they sent your clinic a tidy sum.”
“And you objected to that.”
“Yes.” His jaw went tight. “I objected to that.”
She stared up into his face and felt an unexpected connection. “I would have objected, too,” she said softly.
His eyes reflected surprise, but before he could say something, Shelby came around the corner and waved Faith down. “I just paged you. Woman in labor in room four. Fully dilated, fully effaced, freaking out, won’t push, won’t let us even take a peek anymore.”
Faith set her purse down and started walking fast with Shelby at her side. “First baby?”
“Oh yeah. And she’s a screamer.”
“Get Guy—”
“He’s already in there. If anyone can soothe a terrified pregnant lady…”
“Guy can.” Guy Anders, their therapeutic massage therapist, had a voice that could sedate a gangbanger, and hands from heaven. He was their ace in the hole in situations like this, but still, as they rounded the corner and heard the screams, Faith cringed, both in sympathy for the woman and the people in the waiting room. “Dr. Walker—”
“I’ll assist,” he said from right behind her, and in fact, pushed into the room ahead of her.
Shelby lifted a brow, and Faith sighed. “He’s used to being in charge.”
Shelby let out a low laugh. “Well, since you are, too, this is going to be interesting.”
They stepped into the room, where the screaming had stopped. Their patient, a woman in her midtwenties, lay in the bed, eyes huge on one Dr. Luke Walker, tall and leanly muscular, scrubbing his hands at the sink and talking to her the entire time. Then he hunkered down at her side, holding her hand, murmuring words too softly spoken for Faith to catch.
On the other side of the bed stood