It Happened In Vegas. Amy Ruttan
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up north do this all the time.”
“Yeah, well, people up north might be addled by the cold weather.”
Nick chucked. “Think of it like a polar-bear dip.”
She took a deep breath and waded into the water, which was frigid and bit at her skin like knives. “Oh, my God. You’re insane.”
Jennifer turned to leave, but he was over to her in a flash, wrapping his arms around her waist and stopping her from leaving. They were so close she could smell his cologne. It was a clean scent, but there was something else she couldn’t put her finger on. Whatever it was, it was making her feel faint.
His arms around her were so strong, steadying her.
She glanced up and his hazel eyes twinkled from the reflection of the water and the moonlight. He reached up and stroked her face, his thumb brushing against the apple of her cheek, and she turned her face into his touch instinctively.
“Can I ask you a boon?” he said, his voice deep and husky.
“A boon? Have I suddenly been transported back in time?” she teased.
Nick grinned. “A favor, then, for a soldier who’s about to leave on a long tour of duty. I wouldn’t normally ask this of a woman I’d just met, but this has always kind of been a fantasy of mine.”
“What?” she asked, the butterflies in her stomach swirling around.
Nick leaned forward and whispered in her ear, “A kiss, in the moonlight.”
A tingle raced down her spine. She didn’t know what to expect, wasn’t sure what she was willing to give him. A kiss seemed doable but, then, the way he was affecting her, the way she was feeling, being so free and standing in freezing-cold water with a stranger and wanting to do more than just kiss him …
He was going on a tour of duty and she was heading back to Boston to finish off her fellowship. Their paths would probably never cross again.
There were no expectations and when she looked back on this moment in the future, she could look on it with the fondness of something romantic she’d done, instead of looking on it with regret that she hadn’t taken the chance, because something deep down inside her was telling her, screaming at her to take the chance.
“I think I can accommodate that request.”
Nick smiled. “I’m so glad you said that.”
She closed her eyes as he moved closer. She didn’t know what to expect because kissing had never been her favorite aspect of physical contact.
Every time she’d been kissed before had been less than stellar.
When his lips brushed across hers, lightly, she knew that this was a kiss she’d been waiting for, she just hadn’t known it. Until now.
His hands cradled her head gently, his fingers in her hair. He pulled her body closer so she was flush against him as his kiss deepened, making her weak in the knees.
Nick’s hands moved from her face and down her back. The feeling of his hands on her, on the small bit of exposed flesh on her back, made her blood heat.
The kiss ended, much to her dismay, but Nick still held her and her arms were still around his neck as they stood in the shallow water of Lake Tahoe.
Jennifer took a deep breath. “I … I’d better get going.”
Nick smiled at her. That lazy half-smile that made her heart flutter. “Really? You want to go.”
Yes.
“No. No, I don’t.”
He bent down and scooped her up in his arms.
“Good.” That was all he said as he carried her to shore.
Three years later
“I THINK YOU’LL be very happy here as our head of trauma.”
Jennifer smiled politely at the chief of surgery, Dr. Ramsgate, as they walked the halls of the hospital.
“All Saints Hospital is one of the top hospitals in Las Vegas, and with our new trauma wing opening soon …” Dr. Ramsgate continued and Jennifer tuned him out, only because she knew all the benefits of All Saints Hospital—it’s what had attracted her to this facility above all others in Nevada. The new trauma ward under construction would be the most modern in the country.
And her father was happy she’d returned to Nevada in time for his campaigning.
How good would it look if his surgeon daughter was working in her home state? Only Jennifer hadn’t come home for her father.
She’d come home to lick her wounds after her cardiothoracic fiancé had jilted her and then stolen the research they’d worked on together, before marrying someone else. There was no way she was going to remain in the same hospital in Boston with him, let alone the same state.
She’d moved back to be near her family. To hide from the humiliation. To remember why she’d become a surgeon.
Even if it had meant turning down a job at a prestigious Minnesota clinic.
At least it’s warmer in Las Vegas.
So that was a plus. She wouldn’t miss the winters.
Jennifer had had to get back to her roots and, most important, she was going to keep away from men. Especially other male surgeons.
She wasn’t going to make that mistake twice.
“And here’s our current trauma department. It’s not much, but it’s served us well.” Dr. Ramsgate was waiting for her to say something. “Of course, once the new wing is complete, this will close.”
“It’s wonderful. It’s laid out well.” It was a minor fib as she hadn’t really even looked at it, but a quick scan told her she wasn’t being totally false. It was laid out well. It was open and had lots of trauma rooms, with easy access to get gurneys in and out. Though the new trauma department would be better.
The ER was quiet for the moment, though she was sure that could change on a moment’s notice, like so many trauma departments.
She was eager to get this walk-through over and done with so she could throw on some scrubs, a yellow isolation gown and get her hands dirty. Figuratively, of course.
Until then, she had to play nice with the chief of surgery.
“Come, I’ll introduce you to the staff on duty before we head back upstairs to finish your paperwork.” Dr. Ramsgate motioned to the charge desk, where a surgeon stood with his back to them. Jennifer’s brow furrowed, because the surgeon leaning over the desk charting tugged at the foggy corners of her mind.
There was something familiar about his stance.
“Dr. Rousseau, this is Dr. Mills, the new head of trauma.”
The surgeon standing at the desk turned to greet her and when she came face to face with him, the foggy memory that had been eluding her came rushing back, like a tsunami of the senses. It was an overload in her brain, the way it had happened.
Lake Tahoe, a brilliant moon, starry sky and a whispered request brushing against her ear that still made her body zing with anticipation even years later.
“A kiss, in the moonlight.”
It had been three years and she wondered if he remembered her. He’d changed and so had she. His buzz cut had grown out, but his ebony hair was trimmed and well kept. There was stubble on his face, but it suited him. Even more than the clean-shaven face.
And a scar ran down his left cheek and she couldn’t help but wonder