The MD’s Mistress by Joan Hohl

“Why don’t you just go home and leave me alone?”

She spun away from him. “You’re not my keeper. Go back and save someone else’s life.”

Gently but firmly, he grasped her by the upper arm, stopping her in her tracks. “The way you’ve been pushing yourself you need a keeper.” His voice had a ragged edge. Turning to face her, he clasped her other arm. “It might as well be me.”

“I don’t think so,” Becca retorted, a shiver rippling through her when he raised his hand to cradle her face. “You’re the last person…”

“Be quiet for once.” With that he very effectively shut her up himself, by covering her mouth with his.

The Money Man’s Seduction by Leslie LaFoy

“My sources say you paid cash for this building. Where did you get that kind of money, Miss Raines?”

Sources? She considered him again. Finely chiselled nose and brow, a perfectly square, utterly masculine jaw. Dark eyes with lush lashes. And his mouth… His lips might be full and soft in the rare moments he wasn’t scowling. But none of that really mattered now. No, what mattered was drawing a line of acceptable behaviour and then holding it.

“Mr Preston, my personal finances are none of your business.”

“I can find out,” he countered.

“Well, you just put your pet ferret right on that,” she challenged. “Do let me know what he turns up. I’m sure it’ll be fascinating stuff.”

He gave her a long, hard look. “I’m absolutely certain of it.”

THE MD’S MISTRESS

BY

JOAN HOHL

THE MONEY MAN’S SEDUCTION

BY

LESLIE LAFOY

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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THE MD’S MISTRESS

BY

JOAN HOHL

Joan Hohl is a New York Times bestselling author. She has received numerous awards for her work, including a Romance Writers of America Golden Medallion Award. Joan lives in eastern Pennsylvania with her husband and family.

Dear Reader,

Hello, dear friend, I hope this finds you well and happy.

The MD’s Mistress is the first in the four-book series, GIFTS FROM A BILLIONAIRE. All four stories centre around a mysterious billionaire who gives four unsuspecting heroines a monetary gift destined to change their lives…and bring them unexpected love.

I hope you will enjoy all of the stories, written by myself and three of my very good friends and fellow authors: Leslie LaFoy, a terrific writer of historical and contemporary stories; Mary McBride, another writer with a large following; and Kasey Michaels, a writer known for her contemporary, historical and mystery stories. This talented lady happens to be one of my very best friends…in addition to being very funny.

So, there you have it, gentle reader. I sincerely hope you enjoy all four books…starting with the one you are now holding in your hands.

My best always,

Joan Hohl

To the gang: Kathie, Marcie, Leslie and Mary.

Thank you all for being my friends. Life would be

duller without the four of you wacky ladies!

Love you all.

Prologue

And to wrap up our first column of the New Year, darlings, that delicious rumor has bubbled to the surface yet again. Remember the one about the reclusive billionaire who anonymously surprises the worthy with tax-free million-dollar checks each Christmas season? Well, boys and girls, it would seem that last year was no exception.

Or so we hear.

This time, however, our rumor’s got a new twist.

Supposedly, our RB—that’s Reclusive Billionaire, darlings—actually starts small, sending anonymous gifts throughout the year to each of those who have impressed him in some way, then sits back to watch what happens next.

Continue to make Santa happy, and maybe there’s a cool million in your Christmas stocking. Do those who don’t continue to live up to RB’s unknown standards get a sack of coal? Or perhaps just a note saying, “Sorry, maybe next time you’ll be nice, not naughty.” Details! We need details!

Who knows exactly how this generous Santa operates? After all, this is only the latest whisper on the same rumor that’s been tickling our fancy for years. Your favorite columnist, who would be moi, is still on the story but, so far, all of Santa’s helpers have been mum.

In the meantime, you read it here first. It could be fiscally sound to be nice this year, darlings!

The clipping was muttered over, then dropped to the already crowded desktop.

“Yes, I saw that one, too, Uncle Ned,” said the man sitting at ease on the other side of his wide teak desk. “We see a handful of stories in one form or another after every holiday season. Are you worried? Do you want to discontinue the program?”

His answer was a frown that would have most other men ducking for cover under the closest chair.

This man merely smiled, and shook his head. “No, I didn’t think so. You’re such an old softie, Santa.”

One

It was raining. Again. It wasn’t a downpour, but a gentle rain, wet just the same, and chilly.

Becca, shoulders hunched with exhaustion, trudged back to her lodging, such as it was in the tiny African village that everyone, including God, seemed to have forgotten.

After over eighteen months in the village, Becca was beyond weary. There were times when she wasn’t sure she could keep going, but the people needed her as much as the small hospital, which had been built by the generosity of American philanthropists. And she had come to love the people, especially the children, with their sweet faces and innocent dark eyes.

Rebecca Jameson had been an O.R. nurse at the University of Pennsylvania Hospital for several years before volunteering to go serve in this small hospital in Africa. Working ten, twelve and sometimes as many as fourteen hours a day, every day, was beginning to wear on her.

Becca knew she should heed the advice of just about everyone urging her to accept a replacement and go back to the States for a long rest. But since Dr. Seth Andrews, the very talented but equally arrogant surgeon, had all but demanded she go, she stubbornly refused to leave.

Grateful for about the hundredth time for being advised to bring boots with her, Becca slogged along the squishy ground, her mind replaying the long shift she had moments ago completed. She sighed. For some reason Dr. I’m-The-Boss-And-You’re-Not Andrews had been exceptionally cranky throughout the entire day.

Head lowered, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, Becca frowned as her sight became gray, darker than the overcast sky. What—

It was her last thought as darkness closed in, enveloping her. The next moment, she toppled over onto her face, out cold.…

Becca surfaced slowly from unconsciousness. Her head ached. Her entire body hurt. Her mind felt fuzzy, as if it were stuffed with cotton.

Her first thought wasn’t, where am I? It was, pain, so much pain. She made a soft moan of protest.

“Oh, finally awake are you? I told you that you were exhausted.”

Even with her mind cloudy, Becca recognized the barely civil voice of Dr. Andrews. “I guess so,” she replied, her voice an unfamiliar croak. “So, I suppose I’ll live to irritate you another day.” She decided her brain must have been rattled, or she’d have never had the nerve to speak to the Great One that way.

“No, you won’t, smart mouth.” His tone was menacing.

“I’m going to die?”

“No, Rebecca, you’re not going to die.” Now his tone carried a note of amusement. “You’re going home.”

Home? No! The word rang loud and clear inside her muddled head. Despite his obvious dislike of her, and his equally obvious desire to get rid of her, Becca didn’t want to leave. She just couldn’t leave the children. And, secretly, she didn’t want to leave him, and not see him again, either.

Besides, as grumpy as he was, Seth Andrews was the very best physician and surgeon she had ever worked with, in and out of the O.R.

“I…don’t…want…” she began, her throat tight with anxiety.

“I don’t care what you want,” he said, his voice flat and adamant. “You are worn-out. The next time you’d go down…” He paused, drew a sharp breath. “Well, there’s not going to be a next time. I’ve called for transport. You’re going stateside, like it or not.”

“But…” she tried to protest.

“No buts, Rebecca. You’re going home. Period. Now, shut up while I examine you.”

Becca closed her eyes to hold back the tears welling behind them. Damn him. She flinched slightly at the cold feel of the stethoscope on her bare flesh.

Her bare flesh.

A sudden, unwanted tingle slid the length of her body at the realization of her breasts being bared to him. He’s a physician, for pity’s sake, she reminded herself, gritting her teeth to contain the sensation. She sighed with a mixture of relief and disappointment when she felt her gown once again covering her.

“You’re a little congested.” He frowned. “Still, you’re good to go.”

Her eyes popped open. “Can I get up?” She stared at him. He appeared exhausted, strained. Lines of weariness scored his thin, chiseled face. If anything, he looked worse than he had the last time she had seen him. When was that, she wondered… yesterday, maybe?

“No.” He shook his head, setting his too long thatch of dark hair in motion.

Becca had always thought he had beautiful, shiny hair. But now, he badly needed a decent haircut. She wasn’t about to tell him that. She wasn’t up to his scalding rebuke.

She closed her eyes again.

“That’s right. Sleep, you need it.”

As if he didn’t. Becca kept the thought to herself. His lack of rest was his problem.

She was out again in moments. This time she fell into a deep, normal sleep.

When Becca woke the second time, the headache was gone, or mostly gone, very likely from whatever medication he’d ordered running through her IV. Her body still hurt all over, but not as much as before.

“Feeling any better?”

Not his voice. With a sigh of relief, Becca opened her eyes, smiling at the pretty, coffee-colored face of the young nurse standing by her bed. “Yes,” she answered, her voice still a dry croak. “I’m thirsty.”

The nurse, Shakana, smiled back. “I’m not surprised. You’ve been asleep a long time.” Her English was flawless, not only because she had attended an American university, but also because she had diligently practiced it…with Becca’s help ever since she had come to Shakana’s village.

Watching as the young woman filled a cup with water for her, Becca asked, “How long have I been here…I mean since I keeled over in the road?”

“You went down the day, or evening, before yesterday.”

“Two days.” Becca croaked, gratefully excepting a few sips of the cool water from the straw Shakana offered her. “I’m concussed?” It was obvious, of course she was concussed. She had done a header, hadn’t she?

“Yes, a mild concussion.” Shakana smiled. “How’s the headache?”

“Better.” She managed a faint smile. “But the memory lingers on.”

“You were exhausted, Becca, or you wouldn’t have collapsed. You simply couldn’t go anymore.”

Becca sighed, and blinked at the tears misting her eyes. “And now he’s sending me home,” she said, her voice still faint, but hard-edged with bitterness.

Grabbing a tissue from a box next to the bed, Shakana wiped away the tears running down Becca’s face. “Don’t cry,” she said. “It’s for the best.”

“Best for who?” Becca cried in a croak. “For me or him?”

“Whom.” Shakana smiled.

“Who, whom, what the hell difference does it make?” She was crying harder. “I don’t want to go, and he knows it. I want to stay here, work with you…” She was now sobbing. “He doesn’t like me, so he’s using my fall as an excuse to get rid of me.”

“Oh, Becca, no,” Shakana said, still mopping away the tears. “You didn’t fall, you collapsed. Dr. Andrews doesn’t dislike you…” She hesitated, bit her lip. “I think. He is a physician, and he is right about your condition. You’re worn-out.”

“But I could rest here,” Becca protested. “A couple days of rest and I could—”

“No, Becca, you couldn’t,” Shakana interrupted. “It won’t be enough. Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?”

“Well, of course I have, every morn—”

Shakana again cut her off. “No, I don’t mean a quick glance while brushing your teeth, or your hair. I mean really looked, stark naked.”

Becca shook her head, wincing at the stab of pain. “No, why in the world would I do that?” she asked with sharp impatience.

“Why indeed?” the nurse drawled. “Gee, you don’t know you’re practically down to nothing but skin and bones, do you?”

“Oh, come on, Shak,” Becca protested, using the nickname she had given her friend. “I know I’ve lost a little weight, but…” In truth, she was well aware she had lost a lot of weight, but still she felt compelled to deny it.

“A little weight?” Shakana repeated in astonishment. “Becca, you are skinny, hardly any flesh on your bones at all. Your clothes hang on you.” She gave Becca a shrewd look. “Oh, I know you’ve been wearing smaller tops, but your scrub pants literally hang on your hips, and despite the elastic waistband, I think the only thing holding them up is your protruding hip bones.”

Becca bit her lips, admitting, “I was going to get a smaller pair of pants, when I got around to it.”

Crossing her arms over her ample breasts, Shakana gave her an arch look, murmuring, “Uh-huh.”

Becca couldn’t help a weak smile. “Well, I thought about getting a smaller pair.”

Shakana shook her head, her dark eyes sad. “Oh, Becca, I’m going to miss you so much. But it’s time for you to go home, rest, put on some weight. Dear friend, it hurts me to see you like this.”

Tears welled in Becca’s eyes. “Come with me, Shak, please.”

Those sad dark eyes grew misty. “I can’t, Becca. You know that. This is my home.”

“I know.” Becca heaved a deep sigh, coughing with what she thought was the emotional tightness in her chest. “I know,” she repeated, accepting another tissue from her best friend.

Crying softly after Shakana had left to check on her many other patients, Becca fell into a deep dreamless sleep once more.

At the jostling of her body, Becca was startled awake. What…? she thought, her eyes opening wide as she realized she was being moved onto a litter.

Shakana was there, and Dr. Andrews, directing the procedure, of course.

“Shakana?” she croaked from her dry-as-dust throat. “Why am I being moved?”

“The plane is here for you,” Dr. Andrews said, his voice devoid of inflection.

“But, my stuff…” she began.

Shakana squeezed her hand. “I packed your things for you, Becca.”

“But…” Heaving a long sigh, Becca gave up, knowing protest was pointless. She glanced around at the men handling the litter. From their uniforms and insignia, she could tell they were an American rescue team.

“I’m so thirsty, can I have some water, please?” She looked to Shakana, but it was Dr. Andrews who moved, holding up his hand to halt the crew. Taking the cup Shakana handed him, he put the straw to Becca’s lips. His fingers lightly brushed her chin. The light touch rippled through Becca like a minor earthquake.

Shaken by the odd sensation, she quickly gulped the cool water and moved her face away from his hand, settling her head on the pillow. “Thank you,” she murmured, not daring to look at him.

“You’re welcome.” His voice was harsh with an angry tinge.

Confused by his tone, and the possible reason for it, Becca stole a glance at him. He had turned away, again motioning the men to go.

Before they started to roll the litter away, another man walked into her line of vision. Becca frowned in confusion, because the man was wearing scrubs and a white coat. Stopping beside her, he took her wrist into his hand to take her pulse.

Becca frowned.

He smiled. “I’m Dr. Devos. And your pulse is a little rapid.”

“She’s a little anxious and upset, Doctor,” Shakana said. “She doesn’t want to leave.”

“It’s best, Ms. Jameson.” He smiled again. “If you’ll excuse the expression, you look like hell.”

Somewhere around forty, he looked so kind, his smile was so gentle, she had no choice but to smile back. “I’ll excuse you…this time.”

“I told you she was exhausted, Jim.”

Becca shifted her gaze to Dr. Andrews. In her opinion, he looked worse than she felt. Apparently Dr. Devos agreed with her assessment.

“So are you, Seth. That’s why I’m here to replace you.”

“What?”

Becca was shifting her glance from one to the other, her mind echoing Dr. Andrews’s angry and sharply voiced question.

“You’ve been ordered home. You can take all the time you need to gather your things.” He paused, grinned and added, “So long as you do it within the hour.”

“Jim, this is ridiculous.”

“Sorry, Seth, it’s out of my hands.” He turned to smile at Becca. “You may spend some time with your friend here—” he indicated Shakana with a nod of his head “—until Dr. Andrews is ready.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Her voice was thick with gratitude. She was ill and had just met him, yet Becca already knew she liked this soft-voiced man. Besides, he had thrown Dr. Andrews a curveball! She smiled.

“You’re welcome.” Smiling back, he turned to the rescue squad. “Take the litter to one of the empty examining rooms, so the nurses can get this bed ready for another patient.” From the men, he looked at Shakana. “You have permission to stay with your patient until Dr. Andrews is ready.” With a smile to both women, he strode away.

Holding Becca’s hand, Shakana walked beside the litter to the empty examining room. Tears welled in Becca’s eyes as the rescue team closed the door behind them. Shakana was ready with a tissue to mop up the flow.

“Where did that nice Dr. Devos and the crew come from? The States?” She sniffed. “And how did they know Dr. Andrews needed a replacement, too?”

“The doctor and the crew came by military jet from the States, and the helicopter came from Israel.” A self-satisfied smile shadowed her lips. “Dr. Andrews asked me to make the arrangements. I’m the one who told them he needed a break as badly as you.”

Becca wanted to laugh. Instead she started crying all over again, which brought on a fit of coughing. “I’m sorry.” She sniffed, accepting another tissue to blow her nose. “But…I feel so, so…”

“I know,” Shakana said, her smile now soft, gentle. “I want to cry with you.”

“You’d better not,” Becca cautioned, trying to sniff and smile at the same time. “What would those guys on the team think, finding two blubbering women when they come for me?” She felt the tears well again, and impatiently swiped her hand over her cheeks. “I’m over it,” she said, drawing a breath and sighing. “Resigned to going.”

“It really is best for you, Becca. I can’t tell you how very concerned I, as well as all the people in the village, have been about you.”

“They’ve all noticed me slowing down, I suppose.”

“No, you haven’t slowed down, that’s your problem,” her friend answered. “We’ve all noticed you dwindling down, week after week.”

Becca coughed again, on the tears clogging her throat, she figured. “I love them, Shak.”

The other woman’s smile was warm with affection. “I know. We all love you back.”

Fortunately for Becca, she was saved from completely breaking down by the rescue team returning to collect her. She squeezed Shakana’s hand, hard, as if afraid of letting go.

Shakana squeezed back. “I can’t walk with you to the plane. I must get back to work.” She hesitated, tears beginning to seep down her face. “Get well soon, Becca. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” Becca was crying again. “I’ll be in touch online,” she promised, reluctantly releasing her hand.

“You’d better.” Shakana was openly crying now. “Goodbye, Becca.” She stepped back to let the men move into place at the litter.

Miserable, hating Seth Andrews, she waved goodbye to the people crowded outside the hospital and along the road to the small airfield where a large rescue helicopter sat waiting. She never noticed the two photographers in the midst of the people, snapping away as she passed by.

Dr. Andrews was already in the chopper, looking angry and disgusted. Becca hoped he hadn’t found out Shakana had been the one to turn him in…so to speak.

Within minutes, the experienced crew had settled her comfortably inside the craft. Not wanting to look at Seth’s grim expression, she closed her eyes and turned her head away.

They made two stops en route, one in Israel where she was given a light meal of broth and coffee. From Israel, they were flown by jet to a military base in Germany. While there, Becca learned there had been a discussion on whether or not to fly her and the doctor straight home to the U.S. or hospitalize them there overnight.

At the time, tired, not caring about anything, Becca had no idea who made the decision to fly directly back to the States. Without argument, she ate the light meal she was offered and drank the vitamin-enriched drink handed to her. When finished she settled back and closed her eyes. All she wanted to do was sleep.

And sleep she did, deeply. She roused as the large plane began its descent at another military base near Philadelphia.

Having turned in her sleep, the first thing Becca saw when she opened her eyes was Seth Andrews. He was sound asleep, and asleep he looked like an altogether different man. Though still haggard, in repose the sharp features of his face appeared softer and younger. His enviably long dark lashes blended in with the darkness underlying his eyes.

He looked approachable.

Uh, yeah, Becca chided her fanciful thoughts. She knew better than most how very unapproachable Seth Andrews really was. The term sleeping tiger sprang to her mind, causing a frown to crease her brow.

The plane’s wheels touched down. His eyes sprang open, and he appeared ready to spring to his feet.

“We’re landing,” she said, her voice rough from her dry throat.

“So I see.” He stared at her, hard. “How are you feeling, Rebecca?”

“About as good as anyone after making such a long flight,” she answered. “What about you, Doctor? Oh, and everyone calls me Becca,” she added, as if he hadn’t known that since the first day they had met.

“Matter of fact, Becca, I feel lousy,” he admitted, to her surprise. “And, my name, as you well know, is Seth.” This statement surprised her even more. “And whether or not you knew it, you were coughing in your sleep.”

“I didn’t know it.” Not about to call him by name, she eyed him warily. The plane was taxiing, somewhere. “Where do we go from here, do you know?”

He nodded wearily. “Yeah. We’ll be ambulanced to the U. of P. hospital.”

“But…” she protested. “I want to go home. I don’t want to go to another hospital.”

“Too bad, because you’re going.” His voice was adamant.

“But…” she began again.

The door of the plane was opened. Hot air rushed into the interior, reminding Becca it was nearing the end of summer in the northeast.

“Save your objections, Becca.” He grimaced. “I don’t want to go, either. But we’re under orders.”

“Orders—whose orders?”

The latest crew was coming for them to deplane.

“The head honcho of the hospital,” he answered, as she was lifted onto an ambulance gurney. “He wants a complete workup on both of us.”

Becca caught the last of his words as she was lowered from the plane.

Damn, she thought, she wanted to go home.

Seth was in a foul mood, not at all happy with the situation. Dammit! He’d screwed up everything. All he had wanted was to get Rebecca out of Africa for her own good.

She coughed as they were sliding the gurney into the ambulance. He frowned. He didn’t at all like the sound of that cough. He should have requested rescue for her sooner, even if he had known the administrator of the University of Pennsylvania Hospital would conclude if Rebecca needed to be sent home, in all probability Seth needed a break as well.

Seth had been on staff at the U. of P. for a couple of years before Rebecca had come to work at the hospital. She was one of the best nurses with whom he had ever worked.

She was one of the most lovely and appealing, too. He had felt an attraction to her almost at once—an attraction both physical and emotional that Seth told himself he neither needed nor wanted.

That being the case, he deliberately constructed an invisible shield around himself, a facade of cool detachment and disinterest. Yet, no matter how hard he fought it, the attraction grew stronger. He even tried blaming her, but that wouldn’t wash, even to himself, because in all truth, Rebecca had always been efficient, withdrawn and every bit as cool, if not more so.

He hadn’t gone to Africa because of her. He was in line to take over for the doctor there within the year she had started at the hospital. But he was relieved when the notice came for him to clear his schedule in preparation for going.

But putting distance between himself and Rebecca hadn’t changed his feelings for her in the least. They had grown stronger; he missed her next to him in the O.R., cool detachment or not.

And then, a month after he had arrived in Africa, Becca had shown up to work with him.

He wanted…wanted… Well, he sighed, it didn’t matter what he wanted.

Rebecca obviously didn’t want anything, especially from him.

So, here he was, back in the States, with her and still so far away.

Life sucked.

Two

Two days later, Becca was still in the hospital, in bed, with pneumonia. Her cough had subsided, and yet she still felt weak. As much as she hated to admit it, if only to herself, Dr. Andrews was right in having her shipped home. And she had no intention of admitting it aloud, especially to him.

Seth.

His name swirled inside her mind, along with an image of him as he had looked the last time she had seen him, right before the attendants had slid her gurney into the ambulance.

He hadn’t looked good. Becca couldn’t help but wonder if he also had pneumonia, or was simply exhausted. Either case was worrisome. It didn’t fit with the image she carried in that secret place in her heart.

To Becca, Seth Andrews was the most attractive and sexy man she had ever met. Over six feet tall, lean and rangy, although not as lean as he had grown lately, he exuded a calm self-confidence and a raw sensuality. Becca couldn’t have missed the hungry glances he’d received from the other nurses, as well as female doctors, merely by walking along a hospital corridor or stopping by a nurses’ station.

And he was the only man she had ever seen with dark-amber eyes. Too bad those eyes never glanced at her with anything other than irritation or impatience.

Becca sighed, thinking it was also too bad she had felt, if not actual love, then a deep infatuation.

She sighed again, afraid the emotion was the former and not the more personally acceptable latter. One hopefully recovered more quickly from infatuation.

Into her disquieting thoughts, Becca was unaware of someone entering the room, until a familiar voice jarred her alert.

“Are you awake?”

Trying to contain the shiver dancing down her spine, Becca reluctantly opened her eyes.

“Yes, I’m awake.” She was rather proud of the calm tone she had managed, considering he looked better if not completely well. He had had his hair trimmed, and the wavy mass gleamed in the sunlight that poured into the room.

“How are you feeling?” Coming to a stop beside the bed, he lifted her wrist to take her pulse.

“Rested, a bit stronger,” she said, thinking she felt strong enough to gobble him up with a spoon. Shocked by the thought, she quickly asked, “How are you feeling?”

Seth was staring at her blood pressure and heart rate monitor. “A lot better,” he said, frowning as he slid his glance from the screen to her face. “Your pulse and heart rate are a little rapid.”

Damn. Becca blurted out the first thought to zip through her mind. “I was dozing. You startled me.” She held her breath, wondering, hoping he bought her excuse.

“That explains it then.” He shot another look at the screen. “Heart rate’s leveling.” With a flourish, he waved a newspaper in his left hand that she had failed to notice because of her focus on him. “You’ve made the headlines.”

Becca blinked. The headlines? What…? She frowned “I don’t understand.”

“You’re a celebrity,” he said, holding the paper up so she could see the article. “At least, you’re one below the fold.” He handed the folded paper to her, the bottom half displayed.

There it was, under the heading of the article, her name and a picture of her being carried to the helicopter on the litter.

Pennsylvania Nurse a Heroine in Africa

Becca quickly scanned the article, then went back to reread it more carefully. The contents described in detail her experience, both in nursing before volunteering to go to that small village in Africa, and her service there until she was airlifted home, exhausted and ill. When she had finished reading it the second time, she looked up at Seth Andrews in bewilderment.

“Where?” Shaking her head, she frowned. “How? Why? Who?” Becca’s voice shook with emotion. She didn’t consider herself any kind of heroine.

“I don’t know who gave out the story,” he said, anger edging his voice. “I had asked Shakana to request the transport.” A small, cynical smile touched his tight lips. “I now realize she ratted me out, but I find it hard to believe she would have alerted the media, as they say, about you and your condition.”

“No, she wouldn’t have,” Becca said with absolute conviction. “Shakana and I are friends.”

“I am and was always well aware of that,” he said in a soothing tone, because it had to be obvious she was very upset. “No, it was either leaked here or at the jumping-off site in Israel.”

“But the picture was obviously taken in Africa, as I was being lifted onto the helicopter.” Becca frowned. “Where did the photographers come from?”

Seth shrugged. “Who knows? It seems these days they are everywhere.”

Her frown deepening, Becca looked at the paper again. “I don’t like this. I’m not brave. I’m not a heroine.” Her voice rose as she slipped into a full rant. “They had no right…now I know how celebrities feel. It’s an invasion of privacy, my privacy—”

“Becca…” His voice was low, soothing. It didn’t stop her flow of angry words.

“I feel foolish. I’m a nurse, dammit! Nurses are supposed to care for people. If I’m a heroine, then every nurse in the world doing their job is a heroine. I…”

“Becca,” he repeated, his voice stronger, almost commanding. She appeared not to hear him.

“I want a retraction,” she railed on. “Or at the least, recognition of the good work being done by nurses everywhere.” She finally paused to draw breath. Seth struck before she could say another word.

He shut her up very effectively by bending over the bed and covering her mouth with his own.

Becca went stiff at the gentle touch of his lips on hers. Giving a half sigh, half groan, he deepened the kiss as his lips went firm, draining the stiffness from her body and infusing softening warmth.

Becca’s body melted against his chest.

Seth slid his arms beneath her to lift her, holding her closer to his hard body.

Her head spinning with sensations, Becca raised her trembling hands to grasp his shoulders, clinging to him, lost in the wonder of the shiver-inducing heat of his mouth, the flicking touch of the tip of tongue. His mouth was demanding, his tongue tormenting.

Within an instant she was hot, burning for him with all the secret passion locked inside her. Tightening her grasp on his arms, she arched in need of getting closer, closer to the heat radiating from him.

A soft cry escaped her when he released her mouth and drew back.

“I’m sorry,” Seth said, his voice harsh, his expression stern. Shaking his head, he stepped away from the bed. “That won’t happen again.” A wry smile eased his tight expression. “It was the only way I could think of to shut you up.”

He had kissed her to shut her up? Appalled by his reasoning, Becca could do no more than stare at him.

“You were getting too worked up over the newspaper article. It wasn’t good for you in your condition.”

And being kissed like there was no tomorrow was good for her? Becca wondered. Blinking in confusion, she refused to recognize or let the tears stinging her eyes fall.

“I’m tired.” It was all she could think of to say to him. “I’d like to rest now.” There was no way she would admit to him her utter devastation.

For an instant, he looked as if he wanted to say something, then he shrugged and turned away. When he reached the doorway, he glanced back at her. “I’ll be back to check on you tomorrow morning.”

Becca wanted to protest, call out to him not to stop by, but it was too late. He was gone. She could picture him, striding down the corridor, utterly unaware of the tentative smiles and longing glances sent his way.

Calmer now that Seth was out of the room, Becca replayed in her mind those few magical moments he had held her in his arms, and taken command of her mouth.

She sighed with the same kind of longing so many other women felt for him. And she had thought to call him back, tell him not to stop by the next morning? Ha! She couldn’t wait to see him again…fool that she was!

The next moment, Becca frowned. She couldn’t believe he had actually explained away his kissing her as the only way he could think of to shut her up. That had to be the most overused, clichéd line in romance fiction. Either the man secretly read too many romance novels, which she seriously doubted, or he had never read any, which she felt certain was the case.

Poor Seth. He didn’t even realize he was clichéd and outdated with his approach with women.

Becca couldn’t control a small smile at the thought. The sizzling way he kissed, Seth didn’t have to worry about his statements being outdated. Hell, he really didn’t need to speak at all.

Drowsily, Becca savored the lingering taste of Seth on her lips. His tongue had done a thorough job of teasing the inside of her mouth. The memory triggered a shivery sensation on every nerve ending in her overheated body.

What would making love with him be like?

She quivered at the very idea, before pulling herself together. Get a grip on your imagination, Rebecca, she chided herself in frustration.

Seth Andrews is not interested in you in any personal way. She grimaced. Matter of fact, he very likely did kiss you to shut you up!

Damn you. Standing in the corridor not far from Rebecca’s room, Seth berated himself for the third, or maybe the fourth time since walking out moments ago. He stared at her chart, as if studying her stats.

What in the world had he been thinking, kissing her the way he had? Admitting to himself he had kissed her because he had wanted to for so long, Seth refused to excuse himself for acting so precipitously. He had had no right to simply grab her and kiss her.

Oh, but she had tasted so good, even with the hint of coffee on her tongue. He had wanted to taste her ever since she had become a member of his surgical team.

And now he had…and almost wished he hadn’t. Becca had tasted like heaven, and Seth wanted another taste. No, he wanted to own her mouth, have it for himself alone, have her for himself, all to himself.

The mere thought of having Becca, making love to her, shot tongues of fire through Seth’s body, directly to the most vulnerable part of his being.

A shudder of hungry desire brought Seth to his senses, to what he was and where he was.

He was a doctor, a surgeon, standing in the hospital corridor fiercely aching for a woman…no, not just any woman, a certain woman.

Rebecca.

Merely thinking her name moved him. He made a half turn to go back into her room, when he caught himself short. What the hell was he doing?

Seth was tempted to laugh. He was driving himself crazy over one kiss, that’s what he was doing.

Not too smart, Andrews, he chided himself, as he strode down the corridor, immune to the speculative sidelong glances following his every step.

True to his word, as he always appeared to be, Seth entered her room as Becca was finishing her breakfast. Without asking, he examined the contents of the tray, taking note of what she had eaten.

“You didn’t drink your juice.”

“I don’t like grape juice,” she muttered in annoyance. Who did he think he was anyway?

Seth raised his eyebrows and observed wryly, “I see you drank all your coffee.”

“I do like coffee.” She gave him her sweetest smile. “Matter of fact, I’ve asked for a second cup.”

His gaze lingered on her lips for an extra moment. Becca was hard put not to shiver in response to the heated look she thought she saw in his eyes.

Ridiculous. She rejected the very idea. Seth Andrews giving her a heated look? Yeah, right.

“You have company.”

His remark scattered her thoughts, silly as they were. “I have company? Who?” She couldn’t imagine. Her parents had retired to a lovely retirement complex in the region around Williamsburg, Virginia. Her sister, Rachael, lived and worked in Atlanta. How would they have known she was back in the States from Africa…?

That damn newspaper article.

“Do you want to see them?”

His voice, now edged with impatience, once again broke into her thoughts.

“Yes, of course I want to see them,” she said, every bit as impatiently. “When did they arrive?”

“Yesterday.”

Yesterday? Becca frowned. “But, why didn’t I see them then?”

“You weren’t allowed company yesterday.”

“You—”

“No,” he said, cutting her off. “Not me. Pulmo nary. Dr. Inge decided you needed more time.”

Becca sighed. “The head honcho of Pulmonary.”

“I see you recall the staff here.” He smiled. As slight as it was, his smile went straight to her heart and lungs. She started coughing.

In the next instant, he was pressing the cold stethoscope against her chest. Without speaking, or asking, he lifted her up once again, this time to press the cold instrument to her back.

“Deep breaths.”

“I only swallowed the wrong way,” she lied, grabbing at the first excuse to enter her empty head.

“Uh-huh, don’t talk, deep breaths.”

Becca didn’t need to be told again; she knew he wouldn’t give up until she followed his order.

“Well?” she asked, when he lowered her back onto the bed. “It’s clear, isn’t it?”

“Yes, fortunately.”

She eyed him suspiciously. “Why…fortunately?”

“Because, if there had been the lightest hint of a rustling sound,” he answered in a stern tone, “I’d have sent your company packing until tomorrow…maybe.”

She heaved a dramatic-sounding, long-suffering sigh. “Since there wasn’t, may I see my family now? Please,” she muttered through clenched teeth.

“Sure.” With that too breezy reply, he sauntered from the room.

If Becca had had something heavy at hand, she’d have hurled it at his head.

Moments later, Seth ushered Becca’s parents and sister, Rachael, into the room. “Keep an eye on the time,” he said, before walking away.

Becca might have frowned, maybe called out a question to him, but she was caught up in being hugged by her parents and sister, hugging back while tears filled her eyes and overflowed onto her cheeks. As her mother and sister clung to her, her father stood by, holding her hand, as if to say, I’m here.

Crying, laughing, everyone spoke at once.

“How did you know…?” Becca began.

“Dr. Andrews called minutes before we saw the article in the paper,” her mother answered.

“I learned about it on the TV news, and then Mom called me,” Rachael said.

Becca was appalled. “It was on the TV news?”

“Yes.” Rachael nodded, grinning. “Prime time, both network and cable.” Her grin grew into a quick laugh. “You’re a genuine heroine.”

“But I’m not,” Becca protested. “I’m no more a heroine than any other nurse.” Her voice rose in agitation. “If I’m a heroine, then so are they!”

“Calm down, honey,” her father murmured soothingly, squeezing her hand. “Do you want us to get thrown out of here?”

Shocked by his question, Becca glanced up at him as her mother and sister released their hold and stepped back. “Thrown out?” she yelped. “What do you mean? Why would you be thrown out?”

“The good doctor warned us not to upset you,” her father said, annoyed. “As if we would deliberately do or say anything to upset you.” He stared at her, visibly concerned. “How are you feeling, honey?”

“I’m okay, really,” she quickly declared when he appeared skeptical. “I’m still a little tired, but my lungs are clear and I feel okay.”

“You look more than a little tired, Rebecca,” her mother said, frowning at her.

Becca sighed, but she had to agree. “Yeah, I know. I saw myself in a mirror for the first time this morning. I know I look like death warmed over.” And at the time, she had wondered what had prompted Seth to kiss her. She looked a mess. Oh, that’s right, she recalled. How could she forget? He kissed her to shut her up.

“Don’t even say such a thing,” he mother said, bringing Becca’s flashing thoughts to a sudden stop.

“What?” She blinked, catching up to what she had said. “Well, it’s true, I do look a sorry sight,” she defended herself, fighting a grin. She lowered her voice ominously, and said, “Like the face of death.”

“Rebecca, that is not funny.”

“No?” She gave her mother a wide-eyed, innocent look. “Then why is Dad chuckling, Rachael nearly choking on suppressed laughter, and your lips twitching?”

Her mother tried to look stern, and failed. “You always were a handful,” she said, shaking her head as in despair of her youngest.

Her father’s chuckle deepened and Rachael lost it, laughing out loud.

“And you weren’t much better,” her mother said, switching her mock stern look to Rachael.

Rachael laughed harder. Her laughter was contagious and soon her father and Becca joined in. Finally, her mother gave up trying to appear stern and laughed along with the rest of her family.

It was like old times, the four of them laughing together. They had always been a close-knit unit, and it was obvious they loved her as much as Becca loved them.

“We’ve missed you all these months, Becca,” her mother said, her eyes growing misty.

“I missed you, too,” Becca replied, feeling the sting in her own eyes.

“Are you going back?” her father asked, always the practical one.

“I’d like to.” Becca sighed. “But I really don’t believe I’ll be allowed to go.”

Rachael took her remark personally. “But…why?” she demanded. “Not that we wouldn’t miss you just as much as we did before, but I could tell from your letters and e-mails that you loved working there. Why shouldn’t you be able to go back when you’re fully recovered?”

“I’ll tell you why.” The low voice came from the doorway.

Becca didn’t need to look to see who it was. Only the sound of that one low voice could send chills skating up and down her spine.

“Why then?” Her mother and Rachael turned in unison to confront Seth Andrews, challenge in both their voices. Apparently, her father was prudently going to wait for an answer before he challenged anyone. Becca smiled as he gave her hand another light squeeze.

“Because,” Seth calmly answered, “Rebecca is too dedicated or too bullheaded to take care of herself. That’s why she was sent home.”

“You sent me home,” Becca corrected challengingly, swallowing when he slid a look at her.

“You’re damn right I did.”

Three

The next day, while absently sipping her lunchtime coffee Becca mulled over the events of the day before, most particularly her family’s reaction to Seth Andrews’s comment about Becca being bullheaded.

Were there angry outcries against his assessment of her? Oh, no, she mused, scowling into her now empty cup. Laughter, each and every one of them. Mother, father and sister agreed with him.

Traitors. The thought wiped the scowl from her lips, replacing it with a smile. It was rather funny, Becca had to agree, at least to herself. Hadn’t the three of them been saying the exact same thing, telling her she was bullheaded, since she was in middle school? Truth be told, they had been saying that before she was out of diapers!

Still…they hadn’t had to agree with the man, wiseass that he was!

Said wiseass picked that moment to stroll into her room, looking far too attractive for her own good.

“Mail call,” he said, holding a cream-colored envelope out to her as he came to stop beside the bed. “And hand delivered, at that.”

“Hand delivered?” She was beginning to frown when the light went on in her brain. “Oh, you mean by you.”

Shaking his head, as if in despair of her, Seth answered, “No, by a delivery man. You know, the kind of person hired to deliver something.”

Condescending jerk, Becca inwardly raged, feeling a need to smack the superior look from his face. But since she was in bed and couldn’t reach it, she plucked the envelope from his hand instead.

The very first thing that struck her was the weight and texture of the paper. Expensive stuff, she mused, sliding a fingernail under the flap. Removing the note from the envelope, she quickly scanned it, softly gasped and slowly reread the contents. It began…

Ms. Jameson,

It’s my pleasure to inform you that due to your sacrifice and dedication in giving of your service to the people of Africa, you have been chosen to be awarded by the person to be known as an admirer.

Your award will consist of the use of a fully equipped cabin in the Appalachian Mountains until you are fully recovered or for as long as you wish to stay. Although directions are included, you will be transported to and from your destination. The cabin will be fully supplied, along with a housekeeper/part-time nurse for your care.

We sincerely hope you are well and hearty again soon. Meanwhile, a telephone number is also listed, in case you need anything at all. Please, do not hesitate to call if you do.

That was it, other than a second sheet with the directions.

“Well, damn,” Becca muttered, once again read ing the missive.

“There’s a problem?”

Becca was just getting an inkling that Seth was possibly behind this invitation, but his expression, his tone of voice, doused the idea.

“This is incredible,” she answered, frowning down at the sheets of paper in her hand. “I don’t know whether to take it seriously or laugh and tear it up.”

“May I?” He held his hand out for the letter.

She shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

Taking the papers from her, he carefully scanned both sheets before looking at her. “Take it seriously.”

“Why should I?”

“I take it you’ve never heard of the anonymous billionaire?”

“Obviously not,” she said, a tad sharply. “But, also obviously, you have. And what does an anonymous billionaire have do to with this letter?” She arched her brows.

He smiled. Well, almost.

“Yes, I have heard of him, but I’m sure whoever it is, he is your benefactor. No one knows who he is, except of course, those who work for him. The person is considered an eccentric, reclusive, generous older man who, in his later years, is sharing the wealth, so to speak.”

“Well, naturally, I can’t accept this offer.”

“Why not?” It was his turn to frown.

“Why not?” she repeated in surprise. “Because it would be like being rewarded for doing my job.”

“And…?” Again he pulled that aggravating look of superiority.

“And why should I be?”

Seth leveled an impatient look at her. “Rebecca, you have gone above and beyond the duty of other nurses.”

“But…”

He silenced her by simply raising one hand. “I was there, remember? I witnessed your devotion to caring for those people, your genuine affection for them. In the process, you wore yourself out…completely. This generous person is offering you a retreat, a quiet place to rest and rebuild your strength.”

Becca was on the verge of protesting once more, but reality intruded. He was right, of course. She was tired, even after several days in bed. The nurse inside her knew she needed more than a week or so to get back to normal.

Besides, she knew Seth, along with her family, would nag her until she agreed.

She let out a soft sigh of defeat. “Okay, I’ll go to the mountains,” she said, quickly adding, “but only until I feel up to par again.”

“Good girl.” Seth actually smiled. Amazing. “And you missed a third sheet.” He held the paper aloft before handing it to her.

“I did?” Becca frowned, taking the sheet from him. She read the page, then sharply glanced up at him. “This is ridiculous.”

“Why?” He arched one eyebrow at her.

She rattled the paper impatiently. “It says a limo will be waiting for me here at the hospital the day I’m released.”

“Yes, I read it…so?”

Becca let out a loud sigh. “So…so? So, I have to go home, to my apartment.”

“Why?” He raised an eyebrow.

“Why?” she repeated, waving a hand in agitation. “Because I have to pack my things…hell, I need to wash the clothes I brought home with me.”

He smiled.

She stifled an impulse to jump from the bed and slug him a good one. “What’s so amusing?”

“You are.” His smile matured into a grin. “You are very easy to rile. Rebecca, your mother and Rachael can take care of everything.”

“Oh.” It was stupid—no, it was downright asinine—but damned if she didn’t bristle at hearing him say her sister’s name. Stupid maybe but… could he possibly feel an attraction to Rachael? Becca smothered an urge to sigh, or cry. She closed her eyes.

It was blatantly obvious Seth Andrews did not feel any kind of an attraction to her, Becca thought, despite that kiss…to shut her up. Why wouldn’t he feel an attraction to another woman? Being the eldest, Rachael was beautiful, bright, single and closer to his age. Becca suspected Seth was at least ten years her senior. And, while the difference didn’t bother her, it might bother him.

“Hello?” His voice was soft, curious. “Have you fallen asleep on me?”

I wish. Becca shook her head.

His smile vanished, replaced by a look of concern. “Are you feeling all right?”

“I’m a little tired,” she said, determined not to admit exactly how tired she felt.

Suddenly he was at the side of her bed, his fingers on the pulse in her wrist, his glance directed to the blood pressure and heart rate monitor to one side.

“I’m okay,” she insisted, wanting nothing more than for him to stop touching her. No, what she really wanted was to be swept into his arms for another scorching kiss.

Ain’t gonna happen, Becca told herself, except in her dreams.

“Well, your vitals are normal,” Seth admitted, gazing down at her in concern. “Do you see now why I insisted you accept that billionaire’s offer?” Before she could respond, he added, “The mountains are ideal for resting and recovering. No distractions, fresh air and a housekeeper to take care of you.”

“I suppose,” Becca said, blinking against the tears misting her eyes. While she knew he was concerned for her as a doctor, she couldn’t help feeling he would be happy to see her go.

Her eyelids were losing the blinking battle, so she closed them to staunch the flow. “I think I’d like to take a nap now.”

“I think you should.”

He didn’t move for long seconds. Becca felt sure the gathering tears were about to escape and embarrass her. Finally, she heard the soft swish as he turned and headed to the doorway. “I’ll be in later to check on you.”

“Umm,” she murmured, as if she were half-asleep.

Three days later, Becca was showered, dressed and in a wheelchair, waiting for a nurse to wheel her to the exit where the limo would be waiting for her.

She was tired, from the shower and dressing, she told herself. And though she felt a bit depressed, she told herself it had nothing to do with not having seen Seth in three days.

Becca firmed her lips into a flat, determined line. She would not allow herself to go into a blue funk over an arrogant, overbearing…absolutely wonderful man. Uhh, scratch the last adjective.

As if summoned by her thoughts, the man haunting her dreams strolled into her room.

“Ready to go, I see,” Seth said, coming to a halt mere inches from her chair.

“Waiting for someone to wheel me down,” Becca said, somehow managing to sound cheery…when all she really wanted to do was weep, and tell him she didn’t want to go.

“It may be a few minutes. I understand the staff is very busy.” He simply stood there, looking at her, so close, yet so far away.

For a minute.

Becca stopped thinking, breathing, when he leaned forward over her. He placed his hands on the armrests of the wheelchair, to lean closer.

“Wha…wha…” she muttered, unable to force the full word from her suddenly parched throat.

“You will let the housekeeper take care of you,” he said, so close now his breath whispered over her lips, causing havoc in every cell she possessed.

Beyond speech, Becca nodded.

“Good.” He smiled; she smelled mint on his breath, and yearned to taste it. “I’ll miss you in the O.R.”

Becca deflated like a pierced balloon. Of course, hadn’t he at one time admitted she was the best O.R. nurse he had ever worked with?

She shut her eyes in private misery, and wasn’t aware of him closing the inches between them. The touch of his lips on hers startled her and set her pulse pounding.

Seth’s kiss was soft, gentle, undemanding and heart-wrenchingly sweet. Within a moment, before she could even think to respond, he moved away.

Becca lowered her head and her lashes.

With the tip of his finger, he tilted her face up to meet his steady gaze. His amber eyes had darkened to a shade of brown she had not seen before.

“Get well,” he said. “Take care of yourself, little girl.”

Girl? Little girl!

A wave of anger crashed over Becca, washing away her misery along with her caution and good sense.

“Little girl,” she protested, her voice elevated. “I’m not a little girl, Doctor. I’m a woman.”

“Tell me about it.”

As he finished speaking, a nurse breezed into the room, distracting Becca from wondering about the odd note in his quiet voice, the flash of emotion in his now dark eyes.

“Hi, I’m Jen, sorry to keep you waiting,” the young woman said, bending to flip the locks from the chair’s wheels. “It’s been a busy day.” Smiling, she moved to the back of the chair. “Ready to go? Your chariot awaits outside.”

Seth stepped back as Jen rolled the chair to the doorway. “Doctor,” she said politely, smiling as she moved past him and started down the corridor.

“Come back healthy, Rebecca. I need you…in the O.R.”

Seth’s quiet voice floated down the corridor after her.

Clutching the chair arms, she fought against the sting in her eyes. She had known all along he wasn’t interested in her in any personal way. She was a good O.R. nurse.

No! she thought, lifting her head and angling her jaw. She was a terrific O.R. nurse. And when she was completely back up to speed, she silently vowed, she would not torture herself by returning to work for him.

Maybe.

When Jen rolled the chair outside the electric doors, Becca couldn’t get out of the chair and into the impressive black stretch limo fast enough. She did not look back.

Seth stood rigid behind the large, heavy plate-glass door. A strange sensation invaded his stomach—emptiness? He shrugged the thought aside.

He didn’t have time to worry about a stubborn woman. He didn’t really need her in the O.R.; there were plenty of good—no, excellent—nurses waiting, hoping to take her place.

Yet he didn’t move away from the door. He stood there, watching until after she had disappeared inside the limo. Hell, he was missing her already and the car hadn’t yet pulled away from the building.

Becca. A pang in his chest startled him.

Dammit, she never so much as glanced back.

* * *

In a word, the limousine was plush. There was a small cooler holding snacks, and a bar with an ice-filled bucket chilling a bottle of champagne.

Curious, and hungry, as the lunch carts had just started to be pushed along the hospital corridor as she was being wheeled out, Becca investigated the bounty. Caviar, she marveled, the outrageously expensive stuff.

Expensive but gross, she thought, making a face. Thankfully there were several different kinds of cheeses and crackers and a bunch of plump black grapes. Yum, that was more like it.

Popping the cork on the bottle, she poured the golden, bubbly liquid into a real crystal flute and made a meal of the cheese, crackers, fruit and champagne…three glasses of champagne.

After sealing what was left of the champagne with the foil cap and packing away the remains of the food, Becca made herself comfortable by curling up on the butter-soft seat and promptly fell asleep.

Becca didn’t know where she was; the setting was lush but unfamiliar. She was in a freshwater pool, serenely floating naked in the cool water.

It was a peaceful, quiet place, a secret bower with heavy foliage and masses of bright-hued flowers on the banks surrounding the pool. And there was a waterfall, a gentle flow cascading into the sparkling water.

Lovely. She was alone but unafraid, somehow knowing this was where she belonged.

There came a splash, not loud, but as if a fish had leapt with joy in the pool. Small ripples blurred the water, drawing closer to her.

The next instant he was there, his lean bare body gliding along hers.

“Seth.” Her eyes closing, she breathed his name, as if she had known he would be there.

“Yes.” His lips were close to her ear. “Have you been waiting long?”

“Forever,” she murmured against his jaw.

“I’m here now…for you.” A slight turn of his head and his mouth took hers. A gentle, tender kiss, for a moment.

Becca curled her wet arms around his neck, and arched her body into his, murmuring low in her throat when he deepened the kiss, taking complete command of her mouth with his lips and tongue.

Without thought, she lifted her legs and coiled them around his hips, feeling the strength of his need, and loving the feel of it.

“You want me,” he whispered against her lips.

“Yes…” she sighed, arching higher into him. “Yes, please.”

“Then I’m yours.” He moved into position between her legs. She felt him there, and…

“Ms. Jameson.”

The soft, unfamiliar voice broke the spell. Becca opened her eyes, and nearly cried out in protest.

She was lying on the seat of the unmoving limo. She raised her eyes to see the driver, his expression both concerned and compassionate.

“We’re here, at the cabin.” He smiled. “Sorry to have to wake you. You were sleeping pretty soundly.”

“Yes,” she said, blinking herself fully awake and aware.

“I—” she began, only to have him interrupt.

“You obviously needed the rest,” he said, getting out of the car to open the door for her.

She needed something, Becca thought wryly, and right that minute rest didn’t come close.

“Well, there you are,” a voice called out, startling Becca. “And just in time for supper, too.”

Becca looked up at the woman standing on the wide porch running along the entire front of the…cabin? Ha! This place was the last thing Becca would call a cabin. The word resort jumped into her mind.

“Come on in, honey, and get acquainted. I’m Sue Ann, but folks just call me Sue.”

“Hi, Sue,” Becca said, stepping out of the car and mounting the four steps to the porch. She held out her hand. “I’m Rebecca.” She smiled. “But folks just call me Becca.”

Sue returned the smile, and turned to the driver, who stood patiently waiting at the base of the steps, his hands full of Becca’s luggage.

“I’m Dan,” he offered. “Sorry I can’t shake your hand, ma’am.”

“My name’s Sue,” she said, laughing. “And you two come right on inside.”

Becca liked the woman at once. In her mid-fifties, Becca judged, nice, down-to-earth, the solid type.

“I’ll show you to the room I’ve prepared for you,” she said, striding to a hallway and motioning Becca and Dan to follow. “’Course, if it don’t suit, you have your choice of any of the four others.”

“Only five bedrooms?” Becca said, laughing. “What kind of cheap dump have I been subjected to?”

Dan chuckled.

Sue laughed along with Becca. “Yeah, shame, ain’t it?” She swung open a door. “You’ll just have to rough it for a while, I suppose.”

Becca caught her breath as she stepped into the room. It was simply gorgeous, luxurious, downright, flat-out decadent. A room fit for royalty.

“Sheesh,” Becca whispered in awe.

“Think you might be able to make do?” Sue asked, in mock concern.

Becca nodded. “Yeah, for a while, at least.”

Laughing, Sue headed from the room. “Just drop the bags, Dan. I’ll take care of them later.” She glanced at Becca. “Why don’t you freshen up, then come out to the kitchen, before supper dries up. You, too, Dan.”

Dan thanked her, but demurred. “I’d better to be on my way, ma’am.”

“You not going to drive all the way back tonight, are you?” Becca said.

He shook his head. “No, just an hour or two. All the arrangements have been made for me. Matter of fact, I think I’ll be going, while it’s still light.”

Impulsively, Becca hugged him as she thanked him. Within minutes the limo was smoothly moving away from the house.

“Well, then,” Sue said. “Let’s you and I get to know each other over supper.”

Four

The first week at the so-called cabin went well for Becca. Sue appeared determined to spoil her rotten. Surprisingly, independent as she always had been, Becca reveled in the pampering. Sue insisted she rest, so Becca rested. Sue insisted she eat, so Becca ate…and very well, too.

On her first full day there, Becca unpacked, delighted to see Rachael had stowed her laptop and several novels in her cases, along with plenty of clothing. After putting everything neatly away, she had lunch and then a nap. Later, she explored the house, and was not surprised to find that every room was as beautifully decorated as her bedroom, if not as luxuriously. Obviously, she figured her room was the master suite.

Two days later, she felt quite at home, and was already fond of Sue. But then, she thought, who wouldn’t be? Sue zipped about like a teenager. And she was one terrific companion, not to mention a great cook. Becca was certain she would be a lot heavier when she left the cabin than when she arrived.

Once she’d gotten comfortable at the cabin, she began exploring the outdoors, starting with the long porch. From the position of the house halfway up a foothill, Becca could see a town nestled in a narrow valley below. Curious, she brought up the subject of the town over supper.

Sue was happy to give Becca a short history of the town, named Forest Hills, for obvious reasons. There were a lot of forested hills, not to mention mountains completely surrounding it.

“That town dates back to the eighteen eighties,” Sue began. “It started up when veins of coal were discovered.”

Sue paused, and Becca inserted, “I didn’t see anything while on the porch that looked like a mine.”

“That’s ’cause you can’t see it from here,” she said. “It’s located in a fold of the mountains nine or so miles from here.” She smiled, sipped her tea and said, “I was born in this town. My ancestors settled here before it was a town. They were farmers, heading west, this little valley looked good to them. So they stayed, settled. We’ve been here ever since.”

Becca took the opportunity to ask another question when Sue took another sip of tea.

“You’ve lived here all your life?”

“Lord, no,” she replied with a quick head shake. “I shook the dust of this place off my shoes right after I graduated high school. I went to the city to college to become a nurse.”

“Really?” Becca smiled. “That had to take courage. I mean, growing up in a small town, then going off alone to a big city.” She hesitated, but asked outright, “Did you make it—the nursing, I mean?”

Sue gave a proud smile. “Sure I made it, even got my bachelor’s degree in science.”

“Good for you. That’s wonderful.” Becca returned a small shy smile. “I did, too.”

“Oh, honey, I know,” Sue said, giving her a thumbs-up. “I know all about your work in Africa, too. I hear you almost worked yourself right into the ground.”

Sighing, Becca shook her head. “No such thing.”

Sue pulled a skeptical expression. “That isn’t the way I heard it.”

“Overplayed by the media.” Becca shrugged.

So it was all well and good—for the first week. There was one little problem with Becca: she continued to dream about Seth every night, erotic fantasies that made her blush come morning. Night after night, in each dream, she was alone and naked, always in a beautiful but different setting than the first. In every dream, he was suddenly there.

They would not talk. His naked, slim, muscular body was impressive in full arousal. Becca would open her arms to him at once, and he would lie next to her, holding her, his hands caressing her, his mouth tormenting her. In desperation, she would tug at his hair, his shoulders, urging him closer, closer. He’d murmur without speaking, and move sensuously between her thighs. His tongue would thrust deep into her mouth, drawing a moan of need from her throat into his. His mouth and tongue owning hers, he’d move and…

Becca would awaken, her breathing ragged, her body moist all over, longing, longing. Frustration became her constant companion.

She wanted…she wanted…Seth—all of him.

Toward the middle of the second week she confided to Sue some of her restlessness. She wasn’t about to describe her dreams. She was embarrassed even thinking about them. Not that she wanted them to end. Oh, no. Since she knew the dreams were all she would probably ever have of him, she cherished each and every one…but her frustration grew. It had been a long time—back to her college days, in fact—since she had been intimate with a man. The experience had not been earth-shattering.

“I’m getting antsy sitting around here,” she said, between bites of a delicious stew. She was almost amused by the understatement.

“No kidding,” Sue said, rolling her eyes. “I’d have never known, if not for seeing you prowling back and forth like a caged animal.” She grinned.

Becca grinned back. “Can I help with your work, if only a little?”

“Absolutely not,” Sue said resolutely. “I’m getting paid for taking care of this place and you, and paid very nicely, thank you.”

Becca’s shoulders drooped. “Oh, well, I might as well pack up and leave. I’ll go flaky with nothing to do. I’m getting cabin fever already.”

“Weeelll,” Sue began, pausing as she got up to pour coffee for both of them. “Maybe I can help you find something light to do.”

“The dusting?” Becca asked eagerly, accepting the steaming cup.

Sue shook her head. “No, I told you, this place is my job for now. But…”

“But?” Becca prompted.

“I have another job, part-time, and I was thinking you might be able to help there.”

“Where?” Becca asked, and immediately added, “Doing what and with whom?”

“Nursing.” Sue paused for a reaction. She got it as the word left her lips.

“Nursing, where?”

“At the small clinic in town.”

“I didn’t know there was a clinic in town.” Becca was anxious to hear more. “Tell me about it.”

“First let me give you a thumbnail background.” She slid her soup plate aside and cradled her coffee cup in her palms. “The clinic is run by Dr. John Carter. He was raised here—I’ve know him most of my life. John was ahead of me in school. Like me, he left after graduating high school to attend college, followed by med school.”

She took a tentative sip of her drink before going on. “Unlike me, he came back here to set up a practice. He’s been serving the community ever since.”

“And you work for him?”

Sue nodded. “On a part-time basis.”

Becca frowned. “But you said something about a clinic. Where does that come in?”

Sue laughed at her eager tone. “There were times, accidents and such, when John’s small office was overcrowded with hurt or sick people. There were a few times with mine accidents when it was chaos. You see, the nearest hospital is over a half an hour away.”

“But that means…” Becca began, appalled.

“Yes,” Sue nodded. “Some men died in transit.” She drew a breath and took a swallow of coffee. “So, ten or so years ago, the mine owner paid to have an addition attached to John’s building, which he owns and lives in, in the apartment above. I must admit, the owner, Carl Dengler, didn’t skimp. The clinic is well-equipped, not state-of-the-art, but good. John does X-rays and blood work. Everything except surgery. It has saved more than a few lives.”

“Oh, my gosh!” Becca said. “That’s right up my alley.”

Sue smiled. “That’s what I thought.”

“When can I go to meet Dr. Carter?”

“How ’bout tomorrow morning?”

“Yes!” Becca punched the air. “Please.”

Two days later, Becca was back to doing the work she loved. No, it wasn’t the precision work of being next to Seth in the O.R., but it was satisfying nonetheless. Best of all, it kept her mind engaged and busy, as well as her hands. The edge was taken off her frustration.

Becca liked Dr. Carter at once. Nearing sixty, he was still in excellent physical shape, and still handsome. She could just imagine how attractive he must have been to the female population when he was young.

He appeared to live alone, as Becca heard no mention of a wife, nor was introduced to anyone. Curious, she asked Sue about his possible marital status.

She was happy to clarify. “John married his college sweetheart right after graduation. He brought her home with him. Apparently, she had other dreams of life being married to a doctor. She lasted not quite two years, then she packed up and left.” She grimaced. “So far as anyone knows, except to sign the divorce papers her lawyer mailed him, John hasn’t heard a word from her since.”

“And no local lady friend?”

“Oh,” Sue said. “John has lots of female and male friends, but no lady friend in the way you mean.”

“Skittish, huh?”

“Yeah, and it’s a shame. He’s a great guy.” Sue sighed and walked away, ending the discussion.

Becca watched her, curious. Her sigh had not only a note of compassion, but a touch of longing as well. Hmm, she thought, interesting.

As Sue had explained Becca’s situation to John, he agreed to her working three half days a week to begin. She was tempted to argue for more time, but gave in gracefully, as she somehow knew she wouldn’t win, anyway.

By Saturday, working her third half day of the week, Becca had settled in as if she had worked in the small clinic for years. She was back in form and loving it.

* * *

It was hot and humid in Philadelphia. Summer was hanging on to the east coast like a leech to a blood vessel. There were frequent storms; with each one, the air seemed to get hotter and more humid.

Seth was tired. He was tired of the heat. He was tired of the humidity. He was damn sick of feeling tired. He knew most of his problem was mental, not physical.

Physically, Seth was feeling pretty good. He wasn’t back to performing surgery yet, but he had been helping his practice partner, Colin Neil, by doing hospital rounds checking on the progress of Colin’s pre-and post-surgical patients.

No, the problem wasn’t physical…except in one particular and vulnerable part of his body. But, sexual frustration aside, his health was much better than when he had left Africa weeks ago.

Truth to tell, Seth felt fine as long as he was inside the hospital. Talking to patients, checking charts, reading test results along with discussing individual patients with Colin kept him too busy to think or brood about other, personal matters.

Actually, there was only one matter, and that matter’s name was Becca. The moment he stepped through the hospital doors at the end of the day, her name filled his mind and senses.

Thinking about her, wondering about her—how she was feeling, what she was doing, who she might be meeting—was driving him nuts. And underneath the relentless, nagging thoughts was an emotion he refused to recognize.

Seth had tried evasive action. He did something he had never done before. He had dated another doctor. Her name was Kristi and she was doing her internship. He had agreed to let her trail behind him, observe as he did his daily rounds.

That had been a few days after Becca had left. Seth had hoped having an intern with him, answering her questions, explaining his and Colin’s procedure, might keep his mind centered.

And it had worked, so well that he figured if it worked during the day, maybe…

Anyway, Seth had asked Kristi out to dinner. She didn’t so much as hesitate—she said yes immediately.

All well and good, Seth figured. They could share a nice dinner and possibly, very probably, some professional conversation. He fully expected her to pick his brain, and why not? He didn’t mind.

Kristi was a very attractive woman. Any man would be proud to be seen with her. She was pretty, slender and petite, very feminine.

She was also very bright, which was what appealed to Seth even more than her looks. In his opinion, she would make an excellent physician. In addition, she had a good sense of humor. All and all, Seth found her a wonderful dinner and conversational companion.

On seeing her home, Seth had even kissed her, not a friendly peck but a real kiss.

He felt nothing.

Oh, it wasn’t horrible or even unpleasant. But it was bland, ho-hum, not at all the shockingly erotic physical and emotional impact he had experienced when he had kissed Becca.

Dammit.

It wasn’t her fault. Kristi simply wasn’t Becca. The most ridiculous part was he had actually felt as if he had cheated on Becca.

Talk about being tired.

He missed Becca and Seth was, in a word, miserable. Still, he soldiered on, making rounds, checking charts, answering Kristi’s questions.

Seth lasted until near the end of the third week after Becca left. Then he caved to the urge gnawing inside him. He had to see her, be convinced she was taking care of herself, resting, eating, getting well.

On Friday of that week, he told Colin he would be leaving town for an end-of-summer vacation, and that hopefully he would be ready to go back into active practice when he returned. His partner agreed it was an excellent idea, and that he’d hold down the fort…so to speak.

Packing enough clothes to last about a week, Seth set out for West Virginia near dawn on Saturday morning.

The trip was long and tedious, with a short break for breakfast. Finally, around lunchtime, he brought his car to a stop at the cabin. Some cabin, Seth thought, shaking his head in near disbelief at the beautiful structure. But then, it belonged to a billionaire, he should have suspected more than a mere cabin in the woods.

Leaving the car, he mounted the steps to the wide porch and knocked at the solid oak door. The door opened to reveal a sober-faced, middle-aged woman.

“Yes?” Her eyebrows rose.

Seth smiled. “Hi, I’m Seth Andrews. I’m looking for Rebecca Jameson,” he said. “Is she here?”

“You’re Dr. Andrews,” she said, smiling back. “Becca didn’t say she was expecting you.”

A funny sensation trickled through him. “Has she mentioned me?”

“Oh, yes.” She nodded. “Said you worked together in Africa.”

“That’s right…and before Africa.” He frowned. “Isn’t she here?”

“Oh…my goodness, where are my manners,” she said, sounding flustered. “My name is Sue, I’m the housekeeper. Come in, Doctor, come in.” She stepped back, swinging the door wide.

Once inside the lovely room, Seth tried again. “Is Becca here?”

“No, she isn’t,” Sue answered. “She’s working.”

For an instant, everything stopped cold inside Seth. He arched his brows. “Working?” He had to work to keep his voice calm. “Where is she working?”

“She’s helping out part-time with our doctor at the clinic in town.” She glanced at her watch. “Matter of fact, I was about ready to go pick her up.”

“I’ll go,” Seth quickly offered. “If you can point me in the right direction?”

“Oh, it’s easy to find,” Sue said, grinning. “Fact is, it’s hard to miss. You follow the road at the other side of the house down the hill to town, it’s called Forest Hills, the clinic is right along West Street, the main drag.”

“Thank you, Sue.” He turned to leave. She brought him to a stop at the door.

“Dr. Andrews, have you come to take Becca home?” Sue’s voice had a note of disappointment.

He looked back to offer her a wry smile. “Only if she is ready to go, Sue. It’s up to her.” Without waiting for a possible response, he opened the door and walked out.

Working. Working. Seth fumed and sped down the winding road as if there were no tomorrow. Dammit, had the woman completely lost her mind? He barely felt ready to go back to work, and she had been in a lot worse shape than him.

Seth found the clinic easily, just as Sue said he would. He found a parking space along the curb, then walked to the nondescript building and stepped inside. The first thing he saw was the back of Becca.

She was slightly bent over a woman who appeared to be weeping. He hesitated, waiting until she turned to walk to a door set in the far wall next to a reception desk, unattended at the moment.

When she opened the door and stepped through, he followed her, sparing a concerned frown for the softly crying woman.

Following Becca through the door, he saw her, shoulders slightly drooping, about to enter another door farther along a hallway. Even in profile, he could see the tension on her face, the tired, anxious look.

Exasperation immediately turned to impatience. Searing anger spiraled through Seth’s entire being. Without thinking, he snapped at her.

“What the hell are you doing?”

Five

For an instant, Becca froze in surprise and shock at the sharp sound of Seth’s voice. The sensation swiftly changed into a quick burst of joy inside at the reality of him being there. Then the present reality intruded.

As mere moments passed, she kept her hand curled around the doorknob and turned to scowl at him.

“I don’t have time for this, Doctor,” she said, anger rising to replace all other feelings. “There’s a young boy choking in here.”

Turning the knob, she entered the room, fully aware Seth was right behind her. Dr. Carter stood next to the examining table, on which a boy lay unconscious and gasping for every breath. The doctor was very carefully working a breathing tube down the boy’s nasal passage.

“Foreign object?” Seth quietly asked from where he had come to a stop right beside her.

“No.” Becca shook her head. “Allergic reaction to a bee sting.”

“Have you administered epinephrine?”

“No,” she repeated. “The doctor’s receptionist is looking for—”

“Becca, who is this man, and what’s he doing in here?” Dr. Carter interrupted. He didn’t look up from the boy, but his tone gave clear indication of his impatience.

“The name’s Seth Andrews, I’m also a physician. I worked with Rebecca in Africa.”

Dr. Carter gave Seth a quick glance.

“Have you called for an ambulance?” Seth asked, keeping his gaze on the boy. “He’s still struggling to breathe. He should be in a hospital.”

“I agree.” John sighed. “Problem is the closest hospital is over a half hour away. He wouldn’t have made it there.”

“Not without the epinephrine,” Seth responded caustically. “Why is there none available?”

“Becca told you my receptionist is looking for one.” His tone was sharp. “And I’m beginning to panic here, as I can’t get this tube any deeper.”

This entire exchange lasted no more than a few seconds, during which Becca had moved to stand beside the doctor in case he needed her. Both she and John looked up when Seth spoke again.

“He’s not getting enough air,” he said urgently. “He needs a tracheotomy…now, or there could be brain damage.”

John’s eyes widened and his face drained of color. “I never…I’m not a surgeon…” He glanced at the boy, swallowed, straightened his shoulders and said, “But I’ll do my best.”

“I am a surgeon, and while I’ve never performed this procedure, I know how it’s done,” Seth said. “Would you prefer I do it?”

“Please.”

“Is he sedated or did he pass out?”

“Passed out,” John answered. “He was terrified.”

Seth nodded. “Where can I scrub?”

“There’s a sink behind you.” John inclined his head.

Seth turned, saying, “Becca.”

That’s all he had to say. Becca got busy. By the time Seth turned from the sink, with his hands up, she was masked. She held a lab coat out and he straightened his arms for her to slide it on backwards. Moving behind him, she closed two buttons to hold the makeshift scrub top in place. The next second she was shoving plastic gloves onto his hands, and tying a mask on his face.

“Anesthetic?”

“I’ve administered a low dose,” John said. “We don’t need another reaction.”

Seth nodded, and without saying another word, or asking any more questions, he moved to the side of the examining table, as if he knew without doubt Becca would have everything he needed prepared for him to begin.

And, of course, she did. Still not speaking or looking at her, he held out his right hand. Becca slapped a scalpel into his palm.

Concentrating on the job at hand, Becca was still vaguely aware of a light tap on the door, the quiet voice of Mary, the receptionist, saying, “I found it, Doctor,” and John’s equally soft voice thanking her. He then told her to call at once for an ambulance, and also said to tell the boy’s mother he would be all right.

In short order, working with his accustomed precision, Seth set aside the instrument and inserted the breathing tube Becca handed to him into the child’s trachea. The boy’s breathing eased noticeably at once and slowly returned to a normal pattern. John handed the syringe to her and she plunged the needle into the boy.

As Seth stepped back, away from the table, another tap sounded on the door, and a voice said, “Ambulance crew.”

Glancing at John, Seth said, “He’s about ready to go.”

With her usual calm efficiency, Becca dressed the wound around the tube. Just then, the boy’s eyelids fluttered and opened. She smiled into his startling and blessedly clear green eyes.

“Mommy,” the child cried in a rough whisper.

“I’m here.” Tears streaming down her face, the woman from the waiting room shouldered her way by the ambulance crew. “I’m here, baby, Mommy’s here.”

While the crew gently slid the child from the table to their litter, the woman grabbed John’s hands. “Thank you, Doctor, thank you so very…”

“I did very little, it’s Dr. Andrews you should thank.” He turned her to face Seth.

She repeated her gratitude to Seth, and impulsively grabbed and hugged him.

Not unused to being hugged by grateful patients and family members, Seth patted the woman’s back gently. “You’re welcome, now go with your boy.”

With tears still trickling down her face, she gave him a brilliant smile and rushed after the ambulance crew.

Becca felt misty-eyed but exhilarated…for all of three or four minutes. Then she crashed. Exhaustion, part physical but mostly emotional, struck like a blow. With a last surge of energy, she pulled off the lab coat and the mask from her face. Heaving a heavy sigh, she dropped like a stone onto the chair at the doctor’s small desk.

Seth heard her sigh and he turned to give her a probing look, in exactly the same piercing way he would gaze at one of his still shaky patients.

“You look beat.” His tone was not kind, more accusing. “You shouldn’t be working yet. It’s obvious you aren’t strong enough.”

“I’m okay,” she insisted, abruptly standing to prove her point. For a second the room spun around her and her stomach lurched, proving only that she was completely played out.

“Right.” Seth shook his head, showing his impatience with her. “Let’s go.”

“I can’t go now,” she protested, feeling the need to sit down again. “I have to clean up in—”

“Seth is right, Becca, you’ve done more than enough for one day,” John interrupted. “You look about ready to collapse. Mary and I will do the cleaning up.”

“But—” Becca began once again, and again she was interrupted, this time by Seth.

“Don’t argue,” he said, moving to her to gently but firmly take hold of her arm. “And be still,” he went on as she tried to shake his arm off.

In truth, Becca was too tired to argue. She allowed Seth to lead her from the clinic to his car. It was a nice one, too, and expensive. But she was even too tired to comment on the vehicle.

Becca nearly fell asleep on the drive back to the cabin. Fortunately, she thought, as she roused with a start when the car came to a halt at the house, she hadn’t drifted deep enough for her to dream.

The very idea of Seth witnessing her in the throes of one of her erotic dreams was embarrassing. Whatever would he think? She didn’t want to find out.

Seth was out of the car and at her door before Becca finished undoing her seat belt. Pulling the door open, he again took her arm, guiding her from the car and up the porch steps.

The door swept open, revealing a concerned-looking Sue. “What happened, Becca? You look awful.” She leveled a narrow-eyed look at Seth. “What have you done to her? You, of all people…” That’s as far as Seth let her get.

“She’s all right,” he said, brushing past her to lead Becca inside to a chair. “There was an emergency at the clinic. A child stung by a bee had an allergic reaction. He was asphyxiating when I got there.”

Sue’s eyes widened and her one hand flew to her chest. “Oh, my lord,” she exclaimed. “Is he…” She paused, as if afraid to voice her fear.

“No.” Seth shook his head to reassure the woman, but kept his intent gaze on Becca, who had her eyes closed and was resting her head against the back of the deeply padded chair. “He’ll be fine. He’s being ambulanced to the hospital.”

“Thank goodness,” Sue murmured, her anxious gaze also fixed on Becca. “She overdid it, didn’t she?”

“What else?” Seth’s tone was wry. “I believe she thinks she’s indestructible…but…” He hesitated before adding, “She was magnificent.”

Becca blinked her eyes open. “I was no such thing,” she protested, scowling at him. “I didn’t perform the surgery.”

“Surgery?” Sue jumped on the word. “John performed surgery on the boy?”

Becca shook her head. “No, no, Sue. Seth did it, although John was prepared to do it.”

“But John’s not a surgeon!” Sue said.

“That’s why I did it,” Seth inserted. “I am a surgeon. But John would have tried.”

“Of course he would,” Sue agreed. “John is a devoted, caring…” The ringing of the phone stopped her cold. “I’ll get it,” she said, turning away.

“Is there any coffee, Sue?” Becca called after her. “I think I need a shot of caffeine.”

“Yes,” Sue called back. “I made a pot for lunch, but I’ll make a fresh pot as soon—”

“No, I’ll get it,” Becca said, interrupting.

“No, I’ll get it,” Seth interrupted Becca. “You stay here and rest. Where’s the kitchen?”

“Follow me,” Sue said from the dining room. “That’s where I’m going.”

“But…” Becca started to rise.

“Sit down and behave yourself,” Seth ordered, in his most I’m-the-boss tone, as he strode after the housekeeper.

Watching the back of his retreating form, Becca began to simmer. That…that…man, she thought. Who the hell did he think he was? Well, she continued in her mental rant, she wasn’t about to let him order her around. She no longer worked for him. He was not her boss.

Carefully rising, Becca stood still a moment. When her head didn’t whirl, or her stomach rebel, she smiled. Moving slowly, she took one step, then another. Ha! She could walk just fine. Take that, Mister-Big-Deal-I’m-The-Man-Surgeon.

Feeling proud of herself, which she admitted to herself was pretty childish, Becca sauntered through the dining room to the kitchen. Seth was standing at the countertop, pouring coffee into two mugs.

“You take orders much better in the O.R.,” he grumbled, turning to carry the mugs to the table.

“But we’re not in the O.R.,” Becca said, calmly, seating herself, “are we?”

He raised his incredible amber eyes.

She met his steady stare head-on.

Standoff?

“Doesn’t matter,” he said, after a long moment. Turning, he went to the fridge to get milk. “Considering your condition, I’m still in command.” Giving her a wry smile, he set the carton of milk on the table. “Do you use sugar?” As if he didn’t know.

“No, and what do you mean by my condition?” Becca asked, stunned by his blatant assumption. “What condition?” she stormed, in attack mode. “I’m a little tired. I’ll be fine. In fact, I’m feeling better already.” She pulled a cheery smile, but felt it didn’t quite come off. “That’s all there is to it. End of story.”

During their strained exchange, Becca could hear Sue talking on the phone, even though she couldn’t make out her words. Then she heard Sue cradle the instrument.

“Becca…I have sandwiches and a salad prepared and in the fridge for lunch,” Sue said in a rush as she approached the table. “And a chicken vegetable pie ready to go into the oven for supper.” She hesitated, smiled and rushed on. “Dr. Carter wants to see me…would it be all right with you if I went out for the night?”

Becca was already nodding her head, a smile shadowing her lips, certain Sue’s sudden attack of nerves could be attributed to John’s invitation…for the night, perhaps? The shadow materialized into a real smile at the thought. She had guessed Sue and John were interested in each other, and both were tiptoeing around making a bold move.

“Of course, I don’t mind. I’m tired, Sue, not half-dead. I’ll be fine.”

“Oh, thanks, sweetie.” Sue actually beamed. “I’ll just get my purse and—”

“Sue, wait a moment, please,” Seth said, interrupting her. “Before you leave, can you direct me to the closest motel or rooming house?”

“Rooming house!” Sue exclaimed. “Motel? I’ll do no such thing.” She swept the area with one arm. “Here’s this big house, and you’re thinking rooming house? Becca has the master suite down here, but there are four empty bedrooms upstairs.” She paused to breathe.

Becca jumped in. “Uh, Sue, I don’t think—”

“Now don’t tell me the owner will mind, honey,” Sue interrupted. “What that rich man doesn’t know won’t be hurting anyone.”

She glanced at Seth, who, to Becca’s way of thinking, appeared much too innocent-looking. “Now, before I leave, you go right out and get your gear from the car, then I’ll show you the place and you can take your pick of the rooms…all with their own bathroom, I might add.”

“Well…if you insist.”

Becca gritted her teeth at the humble note in his voice.

“I do.” Sue gave a definite nod of her head. “No, we do. Don’t we, Becca?”

No! Becca kept her lips tightly closed to contain the word of denial from bursting out of her mouth. “Yes,” she agreed, not too graciously. “We do.”

Seth smiled.

Had Becca been closer to him she might have smacked that victorious smile from his face. Wanting only to put some distance between them before she did something rash like face-smacking, she said, “Why don’t you get your bags so Sue can be on her way?”

He nodded, smile still in place. “Right.” Moving smartly, he headed for the door.

Becca heaved a soft sigh of relief. Still, Sue heard it. “You’re still tired. Why don’t you lie down for a bit? The sandwiches and salad will keep.”

“I’m fine, honestly.” This time Becca’s smile was genuine. “I promise if I start to feel any worse, I’ll rest.”

Sue smiled back. “Okay, and it might help if you’d eat a little something.”

“That sounds good to me,” Seth chimed in, strolling into the kitchen, suitcase in hand. “I haven’t eaten since early this morning.”

Hanging on to her fraying composure, Becca rose from the table, carrying the still full coffee cup. “Okay, you get settled in and I’ll serve lunch.”

“Good,” Sue said, heading for the archway into the dining room. “Follow me, Seth. I’m sure Mr. Moneybags won’t mind how long you stay.”

Oh, hell…hell…hell! Becca railed to herself. Just stay as long as you like, Seth. Have yourself a great time driving Becca to distraction.

Fuming, she dumped the now cold, bitter coffee into the sink and fixed a fresh pot. While the coffee brewed, she set about slapping place mats and napkins on the table, followed by plates for the sandwiches and small wooden bowls for the salads. She was setting the large bowl of mixed vegetable salad onto the table when Sue hurried back into the room.

“Seth will be down in a minute,” she said, grabbing her purse and heading for the door. “I’ll be leaving now…okay?”

“Yes, of course—go, Sue.” Becca made a shooing motion with her hand, managing a smile for her. “I’ll be fine. Dr. Carter is waiting.”

“Right.” Excitement glimmered in Sue’s eyes. “Uh…I don’t know when I’ll be…”

“Don’t worry about it,” Seth drawled, sauntering into the room. “I assure you, I’ll take good care of her.”

Sue grinned, and rushed out of the house.

Becca was simmering. Who in the world assigned Seth Andrews, boy-wonder surgeon, to take care of her? She was fully capable of taking care of herself, thank you.

Carefully setting the sandwiches on the plates, she tried to calm her rising ire, afraid if she didn’t she might explode all over the place, or him.

“Do you want a glass of water?” Becca avoided looking at him by turning to go to the cabinet where the glasses were kept.

“Yes, please.” There was a trace of hidden laughter in his tone.

“Why are you here anyway?”

“Why else—to check on you.”

The simmer was quickly turning into flaring temper. “Have a seat,” she said with false calm. Back in Philadelphia, she thought, rather nastily.

Lunch was hardly a pleasant chatty occasion. In fact it was eaten in absolute silence.

Out of pure contrariness, not thirst, Becca drank two cups of the fresh coffee, while simply nibbling at both her salad and sandwich.

Naturally, Seth serenely ignored her while eating every bit of his lunch…not to mention the half of sandwich she left on her plate.

To Becca’s further annoyance, he monitored every swallow of coffee she took.

“You know,” he said, too casually, “instead of gulping caffeine, you should be resting.”

Skirting the edge of serious anger, Becca glanced at him balefully. “Is that a professional or merely personal opinion, Dr. Andrews?”

He appeared unfazed by both her expression and sour tone of voice. “Both.”

“Well, you can take both opinions and jam—”

“Careful now, Rebecca,” he cautioned. “Let’s not get down and dirty here.”

Throwing her hands into the air, rather than her fist at his head, Becca shoved back her chair, stood and began clearing the table. “I don’t want to listen to you issuing orders or suggestions.” Carrying the dishes, she stopped halfway between the table and the sink to turn and face him. “You are not my boss here.”

“I am not trying to boss you around.” Seth shoved his chair back and circled the table to stand over her. Anger was beginning to color his voice. “Can’t you see I’m trying to help you?”

“No.” She gave a sharp shake of her head. “All I see is a man trying to tell me what to do and when to do it. Well, I’m tired of it.” Becca drew a quick breath, and ranted on, “I have been telling you I am fine. Why can’t you let it go at that?”

“Because you obviously aren’t fine,” he snapped back at her. “If you were fine you wouldn’t have damn near collapsed in John’s office.”

Although Becca was well aware that everything he was saying was true, she couldn’t admit it.

“Why don’t you just go get your bag and go back to Philadelphia, and leave me alone?” She spun to go to the sink and deposit the dishes. “You’re not my keeper, you’re a surgeon. Go back and save someone’s life, for heaven’s sake!” She turned again, away from him. Gently but firmly grasping her by the upper arm, he stopped her in her tracks.

“The way you’ve been pushing yourself, you need a keeper.” His voice had a ragged edge. Turning to face her, he clasped her other arm. “It might as well be me.”

“I don’t think so,” Becca retorted, a shiver rippling through her when he raised his hand to cradle her face. “You’re the last person…”

“Oh, Becca, shut up.” With that, he very effectively shut her up himself, by covering her mouth with his.

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