Hot Single Docs Collection - Lynne Marshall Mills & Boon e-Book Collections

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is true. I was standing right there when she said it.” Her blue eyes flashed at him.

      “I didn’t mean they didn’t say it. I meant that whatever that man said about you is a lie.” He remembered the sexy way her body had arched in an effort to capture his mouth as they’d kissed. What had made it even hotter had been that she’d seemed totally unaware of how crazy she’d driven him, doing that. How close he’d been to giving in to his baser urges.

      There had been an eager innocence about her that he’d never encountered before. It had taken him by surprise at the time, but now he understood. If he had been furious at Travis before, that emotion now paled beside what he was currently feeling. Whatever had gone wrong between them in the bedroom had been Travis’s fault, and not Chloe’s. He would bet his life on it.

      His fingers tightened their hold. “Listen to me. You are a sexy, beautiful, desirable woman.”

      And he didn’t trust himself not to throw her down on the floor and show her exactly how desirable she was.

      “Then why didn’t he want me?” Her chin trembled. “And why did I dread being with him?”

      Because the man you saved yourself for was a bastard who stole everything from his beautiful wife and gave nothing in return.

      “Travis cheated you in more ways than one. If I could, Chloe, I’d...”

      Show you just how good it could be.

      He wanted to say the words. They were on the tip of his tongue, fighting to get out. And it was true. He wanted to take her home tonight and lay her down on his bed and tease her mouth open. Taste her. Fill her. Take her to heights she’d never dreamed of.

      But Jason’s words clanged in his head, stopping his thoughts in their tracks with a warning that Brad had better not hurt her.

      As if sensing the war going on inside him, Chloe’s lips parted. “You’d what, Brad?”

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

      YOU’D WHAT?

      She repeated the question silently as she finished up Melanie Roberts’s discharge instructions, glad that the woman—and her unborn baby—had recovered well from the surgery to repair the neural tube defect. Sending up a quick prayer that Cade’s fingers had worked their magic, she stood up and made her way over to the patient’s room.

      More problematic had been the way her heart had leapt into her throat yesterday as she’d asked Brad what he meant. She could have sworn he’d been about to say something else entirely. Instead, he’d muttered something about kicking someone’s ass, and then he’d gotten up from his seat, saying he needed to get back to work.

      And that had been that. They’d both gone their separate ways and then had ridden back to the apartment on his bike. Only instead of his low, rich voice filling her head and her senses through the helmet speaker, she’d been met by silence.

      She’d finally spoken directly with Jason, though, and had let him know that she was filing for divorce. She gave him the name of the attorney, and Jason had said their father would give the office a call and make sure all Chloe’s bases were covered.

      Entering the hospital room with her clipboard, she smiled at Melanie. “Are you ready to get out of here?”

      “Absolutely.” She laughed. “No offense to the chef.”

      “Believe me, we all feel the same way about that particular chef. He does make an excellent strawberry gelatin, though. Have you tried it?”

      Melanie smiled. “Only for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.”

      “It never gets old, does it?” Chloe said, her hands going to her chest as she swayed back and forth as if in love. She smiled again and handed the clipboard to the other woman, showing her where to sign and going over some care instructions with her.

      “I really have to stay in bed for that long?”

      “Really. Your little one has to heal, and so do you.” She squeezed Melanie’s shoulder. “It’ll all be worth it. You’ll see.”

      “I know.” Melanie scribbled her name just as a wheelchair manned by a cheerful hospital volunteer rolled through the door.

      Taking the paperwork, Chloe helped her patient get into the wheelchair. “I think your husband is bringing the car round.”

      “He is. Thanks again for everything.”

      On impulse, Chloe bent down and gave the woman’s shoulders a quick hug. “I want to see pictures when he’s born, okay?” As she said it, she realized she might not even be here in three months’ time. A pang went through her. After only a week she was already getting attached to the hospital and its patients.

      And maybe a little too attached to her boss?

      As long as he didn’t notice, and she took care not to let things get too cozy, her secret should be safe. Although when they had been in that observation room, she could have sworn he’d been about to say something about men and women, and how he wanted to...

      The huge expanse of mirrors over his bed came to mind just as the elevator doors opened, allowing Melanie and the volunteer to get in. As the wheelchair turned to face the front, her patient gave a happy wave. Chloe waved back, mortified to even be thinking about things like mirrors and Brad’s naked muscular back.

      Her eyes strayed longingly to the patient’s abdomen just as the doors swished closed, cutting it off from view. Maybe someday she would be that pregnant lady. When she found someone who would love her as she was.

      Even if she wasn’t a firecracker in the bedroom.

      Brad’s words about her being desirable had given her a jolt of hope that maybe all was not lost. If she could find someone patient enough to show her the way, she’d make sure she held onto that person and never let go.

      Or, if for ever was too much to ask, maybe he could at least teach her what love—real love—was.

      * * *

      Something smelled delicious.

      Brad closed the front door to the apartment, trying to erase the image of a desperate father on his knees in the hospital chapel, begging God to spare his wife. God had. But the couple had lost their unborn baby—and with it the possibility of ever having another one. When the man’s red eyes had met his in the doorway, he’d known without Brad saying a word.

      “My wife?”

      “She’s in Recovery. She sent me to find you. I promised I would.”

      Brad had taken that promise to heart and had gone searching for the man in person. He’d known instinctively where he’d find him.

      He’d lost patients before, wasn’t sure why this was so different. Maybe because of the way that husband had looked at his wife, as if no love had ever been greater. He hadn’t left her side until she’d been wheeled away for the surgery that would change both their lives.

      “Chloe?” he called, shaking free of the memories.

      The scent of cooking grew stronger as he tossed his keys and wallet onto the table in the foyer of the apartment and headed for the kitchen. Relief and irritation warred for first place. Relief that she was here, and irritation that she hadn’t waited for him before hopping on the subway and heading home. He’d gone looking for her once his patient had been stabilized, and had been told she’d already left for the day.

      Without saying a word to him.

      He needed to get over this nagging worry that Travis would come looking for her. She was an adult, she didn’t need him to be a babysitter. Besides, he’d already seen what could happen between them if he got too close. Chloe needed someone who would handle her with kid gloves. That someone was not him. Maybe he’d make a visit to Katrina’s

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