Playboy Surgeon, Top-Notch Dad
Janice Lynn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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Table of Contents

Cover Page

Title Page

About The Author

Dedication

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Copyright

Janice Lynn has a Masters in Nursing from Vanderbilt University, and works as a nurse practitioner in a family practice. She lives in the southern United States with her husband, their four children, their Jack Russell—appropriately named Trouble—and a lot of unnamed dust bunnies that have moved in since she started her writing career. To find out more about Janice and her writing, visit www.janicelynn.com.

To every woman who has ever closed her eyes and lived the fantasy on the pages.

And to Lindsey Brookes for bringing so much laughter into my life. I love you, girl!

Chapter One

HOW was cardiac nurse Blair Pendergrass supposed to avoid Oz Manning when he kept popping up in every aspect of her life?

Trying not to think of Madison Memorial’s hotshot new heart surgeon, she inserted a catheter into her patient Latham Duke’s vein. Attaching the intravenous equipment, she taped the tubing to secure the line to the banker’s arm.

“You’re really good at that.” Mr Duke relaxed his clenched fingers now that the IV line was in place. “The last nurse who stuck me about killed me.”

Blair smiled. She enjoyed what she did and took great pride in causing as little pain as possible to her patients.

“Let’s hope Dr Manning doesn’t finish the job that other nurse started.” Wrinkles furrowed his pale forehead at the thought of his arteriogram.

Since Oz’s arrival, every female in LA—Lower Alabama, that was—had gone gaga over him.

Except Blair. She consciously avoided the six-foot-two heart surgeon who reputedly broke as many hearts as he healed.

She’d written Oz off as a hopeless playboy years ago when he’d visited his mentor Dr Ted Talbot. Sure, he could charm the habit off a nun with one crook of his little finger, but Blair had learned her lesson with regard to full-of-themselves men.

Been there, done that, had the scars to prove it.

Still, for what Oz was doing for Dr Talbot, she’d tolerate his insufferable womanizing ways.

Her heart squeezed. For nearly half a year Dr Talbot had been battling the metastatic cancer that had started in his colon and aggressively spread to his pancreas, liver and hip.

“I know an arteriogram is a common procedure, but frankly having something rammed through my groin and up into my heart terrifies me,” Mr Duke continued on a breathy note. “Especially by a new doctor.”

Blair patted his hand. “Although he’s new to Madison Memorial, Dr Manning isn’t a new doctor. He previously worked at one of the country’s leading cardiology clinics.”

“So I hear.”

“Then you heard right.” Blair administered the medication that wouldn’t completely put Mr Duke to sleep, but would make him less aware of what was happening. “With Dr Talbot on medical leave—” oh, how her heart broke at his rapidly declining health “—Dr Manning is the most highly skilled surgeon on staff. There’s no one I’d trust more with my heart,” she assured him honestly. Oz’s professional résumé was impressive.

“Isn’t that sweet,” a cocky male voice praised from a few feet away. “I never knew that’s how you felt.”

She silently cursed Oz’s timing.

Meeting his blue gaze, she took in his pleased grin. Dimples dug into his cheeks, adding a boy-next-door charm to his good looks. Blair rolled her eyes. He’d be much easier to deal with if he was cross-eyed, bald, paunchy and dim-witted.

None of those things, Oz’s grin widened.

Heat infused her bloodstream as surely as it would Mr Duke’s when Oz pushed the dye. Blair had great empathy with the hot, flushing sensation described as the number-one side effect of the dye used to illuminate the vessels.

“Good morning, Latham.” Oz’s gaze skimmed over the monitors hooked to his patient, who was already visibly relaxing from the medication. “Is Blair treating you well?”

“The best.” The man nodded toward his IV. “As gentle as she put this thing in, she’s officially my all-time favorite nurse.”

“I hear that a lot.” Oz flashed a teasing look her way. “Blair being a favorite, especially from men.”

Puh-leeze.

Her short, dark hair and plain green eyes made her average in looks. Childbirth had left her hips too wide, her breasts too big, and her body perpetually ten pounds heavier than she wanted it to be.

She hadn’t been any man’s favorite in a long time.

If ever.

“Beautiful and good at her job, too,” Mr Duke mused. “She’s a keeper.”

“Definitely.” Oz raked his gaze over her. When their eyes met something dark flashed in the blue depths.

Blair stepped back, shaken by the intensity of his stare. He loved to tease her, seemed to live to do so, which was why she avoided him as much as possible. But for that brief moment he’d looked serious. Almost dangerous.

“Good thing I’m a catch-and-release kind of guy or I’d be in trouble.”

Relieved at his normal cocky tone, she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

Without another glance her way, Oz turned back to the equipment. He warned his patient about the ensuing hot flush and possibly the sensation that he’d need to urinate. When finished, he double-checked Mr Duke’s identification bracelet. Satisfied he had the right patient and wasn’t missing any allergies, Oz administered the dye.

“Nice.” He watched the image on the screen and closely observed his patient’s reaction to the medication.

“Is she single?”

Blair blinked. Had Mr Duke really just asked that?

“Yeah—” a tiny tic twitched at Oz’s jaw “—but I thought you were married?”

“My son just moved back to Madison. He graduated from business school in December. Yale,” the man added proudly. “A real bright boy. Handsome, like his father.” He chuckled. “I’d love for him to meet a nice local girl—” he gave Blair a meaningful look, his gaze going to her gloved left hand “—and settle down and get married.”

Settle down? Marriage? Ick. Blair almost broke out in hives at the thought. She didn’t have time to date, much less get married. She didn’t even want to. Her life was full with her five-year-old daughter, Addy, her younger sister, Reesee, and Dr Talbot. There wasn’t room for catering to a man’s ego and she didn’t want to make room. She liked her life as it was—with the exception of Dr Talbot’s illness and Oz’s annoying presence.

“You should tell your son about the fund-raiser we’re doing to help with Dr Talbot’s medical expenses,” she suggested, tired of being talked about as if she weren’t there. “We’re hosting a silent auction for donated items, but the main attraction is a bachelor/bachelorette auction.”

“That dye wasn’t as bad as I feared,” Mr Duke admitted. “Bachelor/bachelorette auction?”

“Actually, I should talk to your son about volunteering to be auctioned. A handsome businessman would raise a lot for a good cause.”

“You’re still short on bachelors?” A frown creased Oz’s forehead, but he didn’t glance away from his patient. “Even after I contacted Will Majors about volunteering? Stephanie told me he called.”

Although Oz had offered to help in any way he could, surprisingly, he had refused to be auctioned. Not when Blair asked, nor when her co-coordinator Stephanie had asked. Blair still couldn’t believe Oz hadn’t wanted to be auctioned. She’d have thought women fighting over him publicly would be right up his alley.

“We still need two more bachelors to even the numbers out.”

“Two bachelors,” he mused.

Oz might be talking with her, but his real focus was on what he was doing. He guided the instrument into the patient’s femoral artery and up into the heart.

Even during routine procedures, Blair breathed a little shallowly until her patient was resting comfortably post-procedure. She’d never developed the tough skin needed to see the person lying there as just another patient.

Perhaps because her mother had died during a hysterectomy for uterine fibroids when Blair had only been nineteen.

“Ah, problem number one is right there,” Oz murmured, causing Blair’s and Mr Duke’s heavy-lidded gaze to shift to the computerized screen. “There’s a tiny blockage of the right bundle branch. Nothing a stent won’t fix.”

Mr Duke had closed his eyes, probably in sleep. Blair kept a vigilant eye on the man’s vitals. Oz positioned the device to where the artery was significantly narrowed, impeding blood flow and cutting off oxygen to Mr Duke’s heart tissue. With single-minded purpose Oz opened the blockage.

The blood flow immediately resumed through the artery.

Oz had a magic touch when it came to healing hearts.

Blair had learned so much from working with Dr Talbot, but she’d told Mr Duke the truth. There wasn’t a cardiologist she’d trust more than Oz Manning. He was that good, that talented.

Which seemed at odds with the man who was always teasing, always flirting, always out with one woman after another. Only this visit, with caring for Dr Talbot his primary focus, Oz had curtailed his revolving-door dating.

Before finishing Mr Duke’s arteriogram, Oz placed two more stents in diseased arteries. While he worked he explained what he was doing to his patient. He made conversation with the heavy-lidded man as if they were watching a football game on television rather than Oz’s life-saving measures inside the man’s heart.

Although a big teddy bear outside of work, Dr Talbot was a grizzly during procedures. Blair had grown accustomed to his intensity, to his drill sergeant ways in the cardiac cath lab. Oz’s easygoing attitude disoriented her to say the least.

The man disoriented her, period.

Even now, she could smell his musky scent, was keenly aware of his broad shoulders, thick chest and narrow hips. Not to mention that her fingers perpetually itched to trace over the cleft in his strong chin.

Okay, so Oz was attractive. Big deal. She wasn’t blind. No matter how attractive he was, she’d never allow a man like him to get close. Never again. Some lessons were learned the hard way and left lasting impressions an entire lifetime wouldn’t erase.

Blair swallowed, forcing her mind back to her patient and not his sexy surgeon.

“Unfortunately, I can’t repair your mitral valve through the catheter,” Oz said, although he’d explain again when his patient was free of the twilight medication. “The damage to the valve is too extensive to seal the leak as we’d hoped.”

Although having taken leave from his clinical position in Minnesota, Oz continued researching a valve repair device that didn’t require opening the patient’s chest. He opted to use the innovative procedure at Madison when patients met the study criteria.

When Oz decreased the anesthetic medication and removed the catheter from the man’s femoral artery, Blair placed a weighted device on her patient’s groin, keeping pressure on the bleed.

Mr Duke’s face had grown pale, but not from blood loss. “Does this mean I have to have open-heart surgery?”

“There isn’t a way around it.” Oz sat straighter on the wheeled stool. “If you’re agreeable, we’ll get you on the schedule for tomorrow. Regardless, I recommend doing the surgery within the next few weeks.”

The medicine starting to wear off, Mr Duke shook his head. “I can’t have surgery that soon. I didn’t come prepared to stay. I’ll be out of commission for weeks. There are things at home, at the bank, that need doing before I’m incapacitated that long.”

“Who’s going to do those things when you die from heart disease? Who’s going to take care of your family?”

Blair couldn’t drag her gaze away from Oz. His lips had thinned. The cleft in his chin seemed deeper, craggier. But his eyes were what held her mesmerized.

In that moment, she glimpsed an unguarded vulnerability she hadn’t known he possessed. Somewhere along the line he’d known heartache.

Blair didn’t like the quiver of empathy that look elicited within her. Not one bit.

She busied herself checking things she’d already checked.

“Will that happen if I choose not to have surgery?” Mr Duke swallowed hard. “Won’t the stents you put in today be enough to keep me going? I wasn’t feeling that bad to begin with, just got out of breath easily.”

“Maybe nothing will happen if you don’t have the surgery.” His expression having returned to normal, Oz shrugged. “But odds are you’ll go into heart failure or develop another serious heart condition such as atrial fibrillation. The stents have opened up the blocked arteries, but won’t correct your leaky valve.”

Mr Duke grimaced. “What does this valve do? What does it matter if a little blood leaks?”

“The mitral valve is the valve between your heart’s left atrium and left ventricle. When the valve doesn’t seal properly, some of the blood that is supposed to be pumped from the ventricle into your aorta washes back into the atrium. That means less blood goes into the aorta. To compensate for the decreased blood available to the body, the left ventricle enlarges so it can work harder to pump more blood.”

Mr Duke digested Oz’s explanation, taking a moment before he responded. “You told me last week when you did the ultrasound that my heart was enlarged. Is this valve why?”

“The heart is a muscle. If it’s working harder, it’s going to get bigger, just as your bicep enlarges when you work out.”

“If I don’t do the surgery, my heart will keep getting worse?”

“Absolutely,” Oz said without hesitation. “The longer you wait, the more damaged the valve is going to be, the more extensive the surgery will be. Currently, I can surgically repair the valve, which means you keep your own valve. If we wait, the valve will be so damaged you’ll have to have a mechanical replacement.”

“A mechanical valve?” The man’s brows drew together. “Why mechanical?”

“Because a tissue valve replacement would wear out. You’d be back in surgery in ten to fifteen years. With a mechanical, you’ll have to take a blood thinner, but the valve would last your lifetime. Still, the best option is to fix your own valve before you reach that point.”

“I need some time.” Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, the man sighed. “I don’t have to decide this moment?”

“No.” Oz shook his head. “I’ll be by to see you later this morning. Right now, you do everything your lovely nurse tells you to do and you’ll be fine.”

Blair ignored his silver-tongued compliment.

“Thank you, Dr Manning. I’ll think about what you’ve said and discuss it with my family.” Mr Duke held out his hand toward Oz.

“Blair will provide you with some literature and a video on mitral valve repair.” Removing his rubber gloves, Oz shook Mr Duke’s hand. “If you or your family have any additional questions or want more information, feel free to ask. Blair’s part of my cardiac team and knows about as much as I do about the repair procedure.”

She doubted that.

Still a little hazy, Mr Duke nodded.

“Be sure to tell your son about the fund-raiser.” Oz sent a knowing look toward Blair. “If he’s lucky, Blair will bid on him.”

Blair gave Oz a cool glare as she continued preparing her patient for transport to the recovery room. No wonder she didn’t like him. He was a total flirt, prone to insincere flattery, a womanizer, and an incessant tease.

“Pay him no attention,” she advised her patient. “I think he’s sniffed anesthesia one time too many.”

Oz laughed, deep and throaty, and Blair was suddenly overtaken by an acute attack of loneliness. Loneliness at just how long it had been since she’d spent any real time with a man, just laughing and enjoying together time.

What was she thinking?

She didn’t need or want someone like Oz making her question her life. He made her uncomfortable, made her heart pound as if she’d run a marathon in record time, made her lungs feel as if they couldn’t get enough air.

All of which just made her like him that much less.

After she had Mr Duke resting in Recovery, she headed back to the cardiac nurses’ station.

The devil leaned against the counter, looking sexy as sin and flirting with two nurses. No surprise there.

Kanesha Biles was happily married, but the nursing director was far from immune to Dr Oz. Her dark eyes glittering with delight, she slapped at Oz’s arm and giggled at whatever he’d said. Becky stared at him in pure, unadulterated adoration, as if she were ready to sell her soul for a night of his attention.

“Oz Manning, you are bad,” Kanesha scolded, shaking her head with an indulgent look on her face.

“You know what they say about bad boys, don’t you?” Oz asked, his attention shifting to Blair.

She picked up a hospital memo, careful not to look into eyes so blue they’d been known to stupefy even the most staid of feminine souls. Eyes so blue they reminded her of another man who’d once hurt her by his careless use of the charms he wielded like a sword slaying a woman’s defenses. Her defenses.

Just like Chris, Oz knew the effect he had on the opposite sex. He thrived on female attention.

“What do they say, Dr Manning?” Becky urged when Oz let his words hang tantalizingly in the air. “Tell us, please.”

Unable to stop herself, Blair glanced toward Oz. He stared straight at her as if he could look into her soul and know every thought, every desire she’d ever had.

“Deep down, bad boys are really, really good.”

His silky voice dripped with sin.

With suggestion.

With pure seduction. As if he was speaking directly to Blair and no one else in the world existed.

With…oh, Lord, Blair’s lungs threatened to burst. Her knees buckled. She grabbed hold of the nurses’ station desk to steady herself.

She didn’t like him. She knew he was a playboy who broke women’s hearts.

No matter how he wielded power over all things female, Oz was too much like Addy’s father for Blair to ever lower the shield protecting her heart.

Still, thank God she wasn’t hooked to one of the monitoring devices.

Protective shield or not, all sorts of alarms would be blaring at the traitorous pounding against her rib cage.

Chapter Two

READY for a break, Oz made his way through the lunch line. Carrying his loaded tray, he grabbed a bottled water, then gave the hospital cafeteria checkout cashier his badge to scan.

“How’s it going today, Gran?” he asked. The blue-haired lady’s real name was Wanda, but Oz had teasingly called her “Gran.” The nickname had stuck.

Gran’s wrinkled cheeks flushed to a rosy shade of pink. “Not bad. My arthritis is flared a little, but when’s it not?”

“You should let Will give you something for that.”

Will Majors was Gran’s primary care physician and a friend of Oz’s. The two had hit it off during Oz’s visits and usually spent time windsurfing or sailing. These days both men had other priorities, Dr Talbot being Oz’s number one.

“He’s tried.” The woman chuckled. “But I’m not going to take medications unless I reach the point where I have to. If I don’t ease up in a day or two, though, I’ll schedule an appointment with Dr Will.”

“Take care, Gran, and keep making men pay you to stand there looking beautiful.”

Beaming, Gran cackled with pleasure.

It was the same conversation they had most days. Oz purposely went through Gran’s checkout line just so he could put a smile on the woman’s face.

Wanting to be alone to revive his sleep-deprived body, Oz scanned the cafeteria to find an empty table. He spotted several of his cardiac unit colleagues at a close-by table.

In particular, he saw Blair.

Pushing a short strand of her wispy dark hair behind her ear, she laughed at something the cardiac nurse manager she sat with said.

Blair.

He wasn’t sure what it was about her that made him seek her out, but he always did. Perhaps he liked to see the pretty flush that rose in her cheeks when their eyes met. Or how she quickly looked away, her breath catching.

He liked Blair. Had from the first moment they’d met. She was a beautiful woman, inside and out. Oz had wanted her from the moment Dr T introduced them. But an affair was all he’d ever want from any woman. All he’d ever allow any woman to expect from him. He suspected, though, that Blair was the kind of woman who’d expect loads more than physical pleasure.

Which was why Oz might look, might tease Blair, but he’d never go further.

Based upon the way her feet kicked into high gear anytime he was near, she’d likely tell him where he could go if he ever did reveal how attracted to her he really was, anyway.

Maybe it was just as well.

With Dr T’s failing health, the last thing Oz needed was to become distracted by a woman. His friend needed Oz to stay focused on the cardiac center and running Dr T’s day-to-day life.

Passing by their table, Oz acknowledged the three nurses. “Hey, Kanesha, Blair, Becky.”

“Dr Manning.” Kanesha flashed her brilliant white teeth in a big smile. “Join us?”

“Please do.” Becky scooted her tray over. “You can sit by me.”

Not so long ago, Oz would have sat next to the blonde nurse, would likely have taken up the constant offer in her eyes. That was before Dr T had gotten sick.

Oz had decided to make his friend’s life as good as possible under the circumstances. Currently, Oz spent all his spare time trying to make that happen, right down to moving hundreds of miles away from his home so he could be with Dr T and work in his place so the man could keep his health insurance. Oz didn’t have time for dalliances with pretty nurses, particularly not ones who worked in the cardiac center.

He glanced longingly toward the empty table in the corner of the cafeteria.

“Come on, Dr Manning, we promise not to bite.” Kanesha patted the empty chair next to her. “We’re not taking no for an answer.”

Reluctantly, he set his tray next to Kanesha’s, across from Blair and Becky.

Kanesha took a sip of her iced tea. “How’s Dr Talbot this morning?”

Why hadn’t he told a corny joke or something before someone could bring up the subject of Dr T? Wherever he went, someone inevitably asked about Dr T. Wasn’t that why he’d wanted to be alone? To not have to dwell on the fact he was losing the only person who’d ever really cared about him? That the man he loved was dying?

The older heart surgeon had been Oz’s saving grace, the one constant good in his life. He had been more than a professor, more than a mentor. He’d been like a father. Much more so than the bastard who’d biologically fathered him.

Oz twisted the lid off his bottled water. “I spoke with Dr T’s nurse after they got home from his chemotherapy. The treatment went okay, but he’s had a rough day.”

He wished his friend would let him go with him to the appointments. Dr T wouldn’t. Not Oz. Not Blair. Not even Stephanie, Dr T’s lady friend.

Blair glanced up, but quickly returned her attention to her food. She’d grown quiet the moment he’d stepped up to the table. Although he’d never figured out why, she didn’t much care for him. Her earlier praise to Mr Duke had caught him off guard, had swelled his chest with pride and made him feel a little light-headed.

Praise from Blair didn’t come easily. He’d found himself wanting more, to have her look at him with admiration, with attraction matching what he felt for her.

Just as well that Mr Duke’s comment about Blair being a “keeper” had reminded him that he and Blair were nothing alike.

“I talked with him this morning before they left. He sounded so down.” Blair still didn’t directly look at him. “Did something happen?”

“He couldn’t sleep. I sat up with him most of the night.”

With a long, intricately designed fingernail, Kanesha gently scratched the base of a tightly wound hair braid. “I thought he had a private duty nurse around the clock?”

Although Dr T had complained about the cost, Oz had hired the private duty nurse, paying for the care himself when Dr T’s insurance had refused. Normally a nurse stayed around the clock from Sunday night through Friday evening. Usually Oz covered the weekends, with Blair and Stephanie’s help.

“Angie had something come up with her grandson around ten and had to leave.”

Unfortunately after Angie had left, Dr T had awakened in pain and dry-heaving. He hadn’t been able to return to sleep and had wanted company. Despite the long day Oz had put in at the hospital, he’d sat up with him.

“She’ll be staying tonight, though?” Blair’s concerned eyes met his.

Oz’s breath hitched in his chest. Damn, but she had beautiful eyes. The most vivid green he’d ever seen. Her makeup-free face and natural beauty quite often had him staring at her, trying to figure out what it was that made him wish she were different, that she didn’t expect the things from a man he knew she’d expect.

Not to mention Blair’s daughter. Although he adored the little girl, Addy was enough reason to leave Blair alone.

He never became involved with women who had children. Never. Too complicated.

He nodded. “As far as I know, Angie will be there. She was back this morning prior to Stephanie arriving with Dr T’s breakfast.”

“I can sit with him tonight so you can get some sleep.”

As if he’d sleep, knowing Blair was under the same roof.

“Me, too.” Becky gave Oz a flirty smile.

“Thanks, but sitting up with Dr T isn’t a problem.” Oz cherished the time with his friend. How many more opportunities would he have to chat with him? How long before he’d never again look into his friend’s caring eyes?

Seeing the once vibrant man so feeble was wearing on Oz, but he’d never admit that to anyone.

Especially not Blair.

“No, but you can only sit up so many nights in a row before doing so takes its toll on you,” Blair pointed out, staring at him closely.

Her concern pricked a sore spot deep in Oz’s chest. Other than Dr T, had anyone ever expressed concern over his well-being? His mother on occasion when he’d been young, but she’d sent him away to private school about the time he hit puberty. He’d never returned home.

“You look tired. Dr Talbot needs you taking care of his patients, not getting sick.” Blair’s reprimand put him in his place. “If you getrundown and can’t work, he’ll worry about the cardiac unit. He doesn’t need that right now.”

He should have known her real concern was for Dr T, not him. She’d always shot him down at every opportunity during his visits. Or avoided him altogether. That wasn’t so easy this time.

“If Angie has to take off, I’ll call, Blair.” He shot an apologetic look toward Becky. “Dr T is picky about who he’ll let stay overnight, but you’re welcome to visit him.”

“Thanks.” Becky didn’t attempt to hide her disappointment.

Kanesha chuckled.

Blair toyed with her fork, dragging the tines across her mashed potatoes.

“What would you do about Addy?” He adored the imp who, with the exception of her pale blond hair, looked just like her mother. Only Addy’s green eyes lit with delight when she looked at Oz.

“I’ll bring her with me. She thinks the mermaid room is hers anyway.” Although her plate was still half-full, Blair pushed back from the table, smiled at no one in particular. “I’m heading back to the cardiology unit to get our first patient for the afternoon started. I’ll see you all there.” She paused, glanced toward Oz. “Seriously, call if Dr Talbot needs me. I’m working with Stephanie on the fund-raiser tonight, but I can reschedule if needed.”

Actually, unless Dr T’s nurse got called away, Oz was helping Stephanie tonight, too, but he didn’t tell Blair that, just nodded.

Becky began chatting, but Oz only half listened. Taking a big bite of his lunch, he watched the curvy brunette crossing the cafeteria.

Something besides hunger stirred deep in Oz’s gut. Something he didn’t know how to label or deal with, except that the only time he felt the stirring was when Blair Pendergrass was involved.

When Becky broke for breath, Kanesha, who’d observed their conversation, gave Oz a speculative look. “Dr Talbot is lucky to have you and Blair to take care of him.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it.” Oz forced his gaze away from where Blair emptied her tray. “Dr T earned my loyalty. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”

“No, I imagine there isn’t.” Kanesha’s gaze bounced to where Blair had stopped to say hi to friends at another table. “Blair’s the same way. She had a fit when the hospital began searching for a replacement, threatening to stop Dr T’s medical insurance. If you hadn’t stepped in to take his place until he could return, she would have battled the entire board to keep his job open.” Kanesha sighed, her dark face somber. “Even if he beats his cancer, and I pray he does, he’ll never work in surgery again. We all know that, but are grateful for what you’re doing.”

Oz stuffed his mouth full of green peas. He wasn’t ready to discuss the fact that he’d never walk into a surgery suite and see his friend issuing orders like a mighty general and everyone hopping to do his bidding.

What was Oz doing at the Madison Heart Association? Blair seethed. Wasn’t having to see him at the hospital more than enough torture?

She punched in a phone number from the list of businesses she and Stephanie had put together to contact.

After swinging by her house to pick up Addy from the neighbor who watched her each afternoon, Blair had gone straight to Madison Heart Association’s small office.

Ear to phone, Blair glanced around the small room that housed three desks and was lined with dozens of bookshelves loaded with educational material about heart disease. Taking a break from her Oz worshipping, Addy sat at a desk, playing a video game where she cared for her favorite virtual pet, a chocolate lab she’d named Boo-boo-too in honor of Dr Talbot’s dog. Wearing jeans and a Mayo Clinic T-shirt, Oz stood near the largest desk, one cluttered with papers, books, mail and a plastic replica of a human heart.

The man did wonders for a pair of jeans.

“You okay over there?” Stephanie called. In her fifties, the vibrant woman was the director of the Madison Heart Association.

Blair and the woman she co-coordinated the fund-raiser with had become friends long ago. Over the years, they’d spent a lot of time together at Dr Talbot’s. She often wondered if there was something between the couple. Both denied that there was. Stephanie’s denial had been a bit misty-eyed, though.

“Fine.”

Just fine, if only she could keep her mind off Oz. What was wrong with her? Usually she didn’t have this much trouble focusing on her work rather than on the man who annoyed her so much. But the more she was forced to spend time with him, the more she watched him care for Dr T, interact with Addy, the more Oz got inside her head.

“Good.” Stephanie smiled and returned her attention to the paper Oz held, outlining their plans for the fund-raiser in just a few short weeks. Stephanie had handed over the catering of the event to Oz. Blair only hoped they didn’t live to regret the decision.

Like all females, Stephanie adored Oz and didn’t bother to mask her adoration. The older woman giggled like a schoolgirl at something he’d said.

As if sensing her attention, he glanced up, caught Blair ogling him. He pinned her beneath his blue stare, defied her to look away.

Her heart pitter-pattered like a roller coaster making its highest climb, only to plunge to wicked depths and sharp turns. Her careening pulse was just from the embarrassment of being caught eyeballing him. Surely. The effect he had on her irritated her all the same.

“Hello? Hello, is anyone there?” a voice asked from the phone receiver Blair gripped.

She’d forgotten all about her call. How many hellos had she missed?

She cleared her throat and gave her spiel about the fund-raiser, all too aware Oz’s gaze remained on her. Her words came out jumbled, but to her relief, the florist on the other end of the phone pledged a hundred dollars and floral arrangements for the event.

The unexpected generosity to her garbled request pulled her back to the job she’d come to the charity to perform rather than on the man who always seemed to steal the show. She wrote down the information, then hung up the phone, a smile on her face.

“I take it you got a yes?” Oz asked.

She nodded, aware that Stephanie’s attention was now focused on her, too.

“Great job.” The older woman’s dark gaze darted back and forth between Blair and Oz. “I was afraid you’d insist on addressing envelopes and stuffing them with the mailer.”

Blair hated making cold calls, but someone had to do them. Stephanie had taken on a great deal of the work, but Blair wanted to do her part. Dr Talbot was worth making thousands of calls.

“As exciting as addressing and stuffing envelopes sounds—” Blair smiled “—I’ll stick with calls. I know how important it is that we get the donations lined up as quickly as possible.” She glanced at the stapled pages of names and businesses to be called. “Although I don’t think I’ll make it through the rest of these tonight.”

“Do what you can, but no worries. You’ve already amazed me at how many local businesses have donated.”

“I can stuff ’lopes, Mommy,” Addy piped up from where she sat, her big green eyes eager.

“Addy, honey, Mommy needs you to be close in case I need your help.” Addy was a darling and usually wellbehaved, but like any child, she had her moments.

“But I’m a really good helper,” her daughter insisted, wearing a pleading expression.

“Yes, you’re a good helper,” she began, but was interrupted by Oz going to Addy and taking her small fingers into his much larger ones. His strong fingers clasped Addy’s fragile ones, twisting Blair’s heart with a reminder of the one thing she could never give her daughter—a father’s love and affection.

Appearing totally serious, Oz thoroughly examined her daughter’s hands.

“I don’t know, Stephanie,” he contemplated, scratching his head. “What do you think? Do these look like good helper hands to you? Kind of look like pipsqueak hands to me.”

Knowing a sucker when she saw him, Addy batted her lashes at Oz. From the moment they’d met, Addy and Oz had hit it off. Probably because he acted as much like a kid as Addy did and he showered her with his attention. Addy thought Oz walked on water.

But seriously, how could Blair expect a five-year-old to resist his charms when grown women couldn’t?

“Mommy, tell Dr Oz what a good helper I am.” Addy’s bright eyes shifted to Blair, then to Oz. No puppy had ever given a more appealing look than the one her daughter bestowed upon her quarry.

Despite her melancholy, Blair bit back a smile. Oz had met his match in Addison Pendergrass.

“You’re the best helper, Addy.” Blair tried to be diplomatic in case Stephanie preferred Addy to stay near Blair. “But I’m sure the lady stuffing envelopes has things under control.”

“Actually, she could use help.” Stephanie earned a pleased look from Addy. “If that’s okay with you, Blair?”

Blair silently mouthed thank you. “As long as she’s not in the way.”

“She won’t be,” Stephanie assured, smiling her acknowledgement. “Oz will help keep an eye on her.”

Blair’s gaze shifted to Oz.

His brow arched.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” His gaze lingered, searched hers, and something flickered in his eyes, unreadable and disturbing. Surprisingly, for once, he looked away first. Turning to Addy, he poured on his own lethal brand of charm, bowing reverently.

“So, Pipsqueak, looks like you’re in charge.” He straightened, grinned, held out his hands palm-up. “I’m a good helper, too. Can I be your envelope stuffer helper?”

Taking his outstretched hands, examining them as closely as he’d done hers, Addy pretended to consider.

“Hey!” Oz teased when she dragged out the examination longer than he deemed necessary. “It’s not like I have cooties.”

“You can be my helper.” Addy giggled, slapping her thigh at her joke. “Since you don’t have cooties.”

“No cooties here,” he promised. “Let me finish going over this form with Stephanie while you save your game, okay? Then we’ll show the world how envelopes are supposed to be addressed and stuffed.”

Two hours later, Blair had procured donations of several more items for the event. She reached up to massage her contracted neck muscles. Man, it had been a long day.

“Tired?”

Startled, she glanced toward where Oz stood in the doorway, watching her. Her fingers paused mid-knead.

“A little.” How long had he been standing there? “I sat too long without stretching.”

She rotated her stiff neck.

When Oz moved behind her, she knew what he was going to do even before she felt his fingers. She wanted to stop him, opened her mouth to do so, but her breath caught, held, burned in her chest.

He touched her tense flesh.

Shards of electricity pulsated through her, lighting fires where he touched and radiating out to the tips of her fingers and toes.

Blair’s insides turned to goop.

This was bad. Very bad.

But oh, my, did bad feel good.

Way too good to find her voice and make him stop.

It was just a quick therapeutic massage. Nothing more.

For therapy. That was all. Really.

Blair’s hands dropped to her lap.

He stroked her tight muscles with a feathery touch. His fingers traced across the curve of her neck. So lightly she could almost think she imagined the burn of his fingertips through the short strands of her hair.

But she wasn’t imagining his touch.

Or her reaction.

Every nerve cell zinged to life, jumped, flipped inside out.

Sighing, she closed her eyes.

His pressure increased.

Standing behind her chair, he worked on her neck and upper shoulders, dispensing every knot, leaving sensitized chaos in his wake.

Every breath echoed across endless time.

Every heartbeat thundered through endless space.

His fingers were magic that massaged away every reason she should tell him to stop, magic that made her forget she didn’t like him.

His hand moved around her neck, stroked over her shoulders, her clavicle.

“Mmm.” She angled to give him easier access, the back of her head brushing against his flat abdomen.

Oh, my.

His fingers skimmed back and forth, slow, teasing, caressing the column of her throat, her chin. He gently traced her mouth. Her tongue darted out to moisten her suddenly dry lips. His fingers paused.

Blair’s breath caught and held.

Butterflies danced in her belly, sending up a fluttery rainbow of sensations that brought her black-and-white world into Technicolor. Sensations that made her acutely aware that she was a woman.

It had been a long time since she’d felt that awareness.

She turned, looked up at him, saw the desire reflected in his eyes.

He reached for her, taking her hand, pulling her to her feet, their bodies so close they practically touched. In a daze, Blair breathed in his spicy scent, felt his palm cup her face, felt his body heat lure her closer, for her to close the small gap between them.

Although she knew she had to stop him, that she couldn’t kiss Oz when she had no room for him in her life, when he’d only end up hurting her if she let her guard down, she touched his face, running her finger over the cleft in his chin, fighting the strongest desire to do the same with her lips. She loved that indentation, that impression on his flawless face.

“Blair, I—”

“How’s it going, you two?” Stephanie stepped into the room.

Blair jerked away from Oz.

Oh, God.

What had she been doing? Thinking?

Addy could have walked in, seen.

Mortified, Blair couldn’t look at Stephanie. How could she when she’d just been caught with Oz?

A man she didn’t even like!

Dear, sweet heavens. She should have stopped him the moment he’d touched her.

She should have stopped him before her body throbbed from his touch, before she wanted to find out what all the hype about Oz Manning was really about.

A quickie massage didn’t mean anything to Oz. but darn it, she didn’t do this. Physical acts meant something to her, meant a lot to her, but…she should have stopped him. She wasn’t one of his groupies. How could she have behaved no better than any of his other conquests? Hadn’t she learned anything from her experience with Chris?

“Oh, sorry,” Stephanie began, a little red-faced and flustered, too.

No way could she not suspect what Blair and Oz had been about to do.

They’d almost kissed. Oh…oh…oh, darn!

This was insane.

Insane. That was exactly right. Temporary insanity.

Because that was what Oz had done. Driven her insane with his playboy ways and his tenderness toward Dr Talbot and Addy. How could he be such a cad with women and yet so appealing with her daughter and dearest friend? With his patients?

“Did you need something?” Oz’s eyes flashed with annoyance and perhaps relief, too, at Stephanie’s interruption.

“What’s going on?” Her gaze dropped to where his hand burned into Blair’s lower back like a hot poker. Her thin cotton shirt was no barrier to the sear of his touch.

Needing to put as much space between them as she could, Blair stepped forward.

Oz’s hand fell to his side. “Blair had a crick in her neck.”

Stephanie’s brow quirked. “And you offered to help out?”

“You know me. Always willing to lend a helping hand.”

Blair refused to look at him. She didn’t want to know if he wore a serious expression or if he’d waggled those thick blond brows, making light of the situation. She only wanted to rush to the bathroom and splash cold water on her face in the hope of waking herself and finding this was all a nightmare.

Seeming to have recovered from her initial shock, Stephanie smirked at Oz’s comment. “Especially when a female is involved?”

“Blair is certainly female.”

Blair thought she might die of mortification.

At least then she wouldn’t have to face the reality that she’d let Oz Manning touch her. Not just touch her, but touch her.

He might have started out just massaging her neck, but when Stephanie had walked in he’d been about to kiss her.

The worst part was that she’d let him touch her. As much as she wanted to believe she would have stopped him, she wasn’t so sure that she would have. If Stephanie hadn’t interrupted, she’d be swapping spit with the worst playboy she’d ever encountered.

With Addy in the next room.

Had she completely lost her mind?

“I came to tell you Dorothy is leaving in just a few. Addy is helping her finish the last of the mailers.”

Drawing upon all her strength, Blair kept her shoulders high and walked around the desk. She checked her watch. Almost eight on a school night.

“I need to go, too, but I’m off duty on Saturday. Would that be an okay time for Addy and I to come back?”

Stephanie’s curious eyes lit with gratitude. “That would be wonderful. Addy was a great help with the envelopes.”

“I’ll take the list home with me and finish making the calls while I’m at lunch tomorrow or Friday. Perhaps even at Dr Talbot’s tomorrow night if he naps. Maybe I can get the rest marked off between now and Saturday.”

“I’ll be here on Saturday, too. I’ll bring Dr T with me if he’s up to it. He needs to get out of the house.” Oz moved behind Blair, not so close that he was touching her, but enough that his scent enveloped her, taking her back to the moments before Stephanie had walked into the room. No. No. No. She did not wish she’d kissed Oz.

“We’ll go over what we have covered for the fund-raiser,” Oz continued, oblivious to the effect he was having on Blair. “Hire out what we don’t, grab some lunch, then spend the rest of the day with Dr T.”

“Thanks.” Stephanie smiled knowingly at them, a pleased smile, making Blair even more self-conscious. “I’ll just go tell Dorothy goodbye and leave you two alone so Oz can go back to…um…helping.”

Great.

The moment Stephanie was gone, Blair spun toward Oz. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Don’t go all defensive,” he warned, giving her a frustrated look that said perhaps he wasn’t as calm as he’d pretended. That maybe he had been aware of the effect his nearness was having on her and that he’d been just as affected.

“I’m not being defensive,” she spat back, determined not to go soft on him again.

“Yes, you are. I understand.” The blasted man stroked his knuckles across her face. “We should go somewhere and talk.”

Talk? Yeah, right. Oz wasn’t known for talking to women.

Glaring at him, Blair pulled back. He couldn’t touch her. She couldn’t let him. He was dangerous. Too dangerous.

Just look what had happened the last time she’d let a man get close to her. She’d ended up pregnant and alone, mourning the death of a man she hadn’t known had been married to someone else, much less that he’d had other “girlfriends.”

Now, she had a great life that she’d worked long and hard to forge. She wouldn’t let a man destroy her a second time.

“We have nothing to say to each other.”

“We need to talk about what just happened.” Was he staring at her lips?

Dear Lord, he was.

She swallowed. Hard.

She’d known he hadn’t really wanted to talk. Did he think she was a fool? That he could just almost kiss her and she’d fall at his feet?

“Nothing happened, Dr Manning,” she snapped coolly. “Even if Stephanie hadn’t walked in, nothing would have happened. I don’t like you, and I certainly didn’t want you to touch me or kiss me.” The words ground out between gritted teeth. “I prefer for you to stay away from me and my daughter. Got it?”

Oz had wanted to kiss Blair more than he recalled ever wanting to kiss any woman.

He’d wanted to kiss her so much he ached with need from the ends of his hair to the tips of his toes and all in between.

He’d especially ached in between.

Now he just wanted to strangle her lying throat.

He wasn’t some inexperienced schoolboy. He knew when a woman wanted him. Blair had wanted him to kiss her. Perhaps not as much as he’d wanted to kiss her, but she’d wanted his mouth on hers.

But she was right. He shouldn’t have touched her.

Hadn’t he always known not to touch Blair? That touching her wouldn’t be nearly enough? Hadn’t he subconsciously appreciated that she avoided him because it made doing the right thing easier? Hadn’t he always made a point to keep a physical distance between them?

Why had he crossed that line tonight?

She was a complicated woman with a child. She was white picket fences and promises of forever. He was his father’s son and liked women. Lots of women. He didn’t do commitment, didn’t do long-term relationships.

Yet, even now, with her staring at him as if he were the devil incarnate, he wanted to pull her to him and assure her that their touching had felt more right than anything he’d experienced in a long time. Maybe ever.

Which made no sense.

Likely the strain of caring for Dr T, of seeing his friend suffer, was getting to him and explained his weakness with Blair.

“I need to get Addy.” She turned, picked up her purse from where she’d set the leather bag after they’d arrived, then moved to where Addy had left her satchel of goodies to keep her entertained.

“I’ll walk you to your car.” He should just let her go. Should take a leaf from her book and pretend nothing had happened. Surely that would be for the best?

So, why couldn’t he? Why did he want to kiss her until she admitted that she’d been as affected as he had?

Blair slid the pink hand-held video game player into Addy’s bag. “There’s no need.”

“I’ll walk you to your car,” he repeated, irritated that she insisted upon pushing him away at every turn. “This neighborhood isn’t the best at night.”

This time Blair nodded without looking at him.

When she said it was time to go, Addy proudly pointed to the box filled with stuffed envelopes.

“See what I did, Mommy? Miss Stephanie says I’m a great ’lope stuffer and she hopes I’ll come back.” Addy looked at Stephanie for reassurance and the director nodded. “Can I, Mommy?”

“We’ll see.”

Oz wondered if he was the only one who noticed the break in Blair’s voice, the tremble of her hand, the way she looked anywhere in the room but at him.

“Dr Oz said I was a good helper, too, didn’t you, Dr Oz?” Addy bestowed him with the smile of an angel.

“I did, Pipsqueak.” Giving her an indulgent look, Oz touched Addy’s curly blond ponytail, letting a ringlet wrap around his finger.

Tight-lipped, Blair reached for Addy’s hand, effectively moving the girl away from him. He let her, hating how his rib cage crushed his internal organs to the point he could barely breathe.

Blair had told him to stay away from her and Addy.

Hell, no! The thought rushed through his heart. But if that was what Blair wanted, he’d honor her wishes. At least as much as he could, given their circumstances.

“Thanks for letting her help.” Blair hugged Stephanie. She smiled down at her daughter, who’d taken her Hello Kitty bag and slung it over her tiny shoulders. “Let’s go check on Aunt Reesee to see if she got lots of studying done.”

“Aunt Reesee?” Oz followed them out of the building. Dr T had mentioned Blair’s younger sister lived with her and Addy. Despite the twice-a-year trips Oz made to the Gulf, he knew very little about Blair outside of what Dr T had volunteered. He’d purposely never asked questions.

“My nineteen-year-old sister.” Blair kept her gaze locked on Addy, kept her tone even, probably for her daughter’s sake, because he suspected she’d like to lash out at him. “She’s in school at University of Alabama in Birmingham, but is taking several of her general study classes online to cut down on commuting and to help with Addy.”

“Aunt Reesee is cool,” Addy piped up, bouncing along beside them. “She lets me watch SpongeBob and drink soda pop after dark.”

Blair’s brow lifted. “Oh, really?”

Realizing her mistake, Addy faked a yawn and skipped ahead to Blair’s mid-size four-door sedan. When Blair punched the remote entry, unlocking the door, Addy climbed in and began buckling herself into a child safety seat.

“Blair, about earlier,” he began, speaking quietly in deference to the little girl who’d taken her video game out of her bag and chatted to her virtual pet.

Blair stepped back, not looking at him. “It was no big deal. Forget it happened.”

Despite having just told himself the same thing, he didn’t like Blair’s quick denial. She was treating him as if he were a lecherous creep and her disdain annoyed him.

“Wasn’t it?” he challenged.

Her teeth sank into her lower lip. “We both know you’re an incurable flirt. What happened didn’t mean a thing. Like I said, no big deal.” She glanced toward where Addy played her game. “I need to go.”

An incurable flirt? Blair’s words stung. She made it sound as if he were diseased and condemned. Maybe he was. After all, wasn’t that exactly how his mother had thought of his father? Like father, like son. Wasn’t that what she always said?

“Fine,” he bit out, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Not if I see you first,” she muttered under her breath.

She moved to Addy and checked to make sure the seat’s safety catches were properly latched.

“Bye, Dr Oz.” Addy waved, fighting back a yawn.

Oz’s diseased and condemned heart squeezed. “Bye, Pipsqueak.”

Blair closed the door, climbed into her car and drove away.

He raked his fingers through his hair, watching the taillights disappear into the night.

If he lived to a hundred, he wouldn’t forget the feel of Blair’s warm skin beneath his fingers, wouldn’t forget the softness, the fullness, the way she’d stared into his eyes while he’d cupped her face.

Deep down he’d always wondered what touching Blair would feel like.

Now he knew and wished like hell he didn’t.

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