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bet I am,” she’d answered.

      “What should I bet you are?” The object of her mental digression continued blocking her path.

      Had she spoken out loud? Zady couldn’t believe she’d been so indiscreet, but she must have. Instead of answering—since he had no right to eavesdrop on her private thoughts, even if they had accidentally become audible—she countered with, “What are you doing here? You work nights.”

      Nick favored her with what many women would consider a heart-stopping grin. “Apology accepted.”

      “I didn’t...” But she had been embarrassed when she realized how bizarre her reaction must have sounded last night. “Okay, I was rude.”

      “Twice.” Arms folded, he remained in place, ignoring the heads swiveling toward them. The cafeteria was gossip central, and Zady figured she’d better defuse the situation quickly.

      “Sorry.” For good measure, she added, “Sorry for the second time, too,” and gauged the distance between him and the nearest table. Too narrow to squeeze through without spilling her tea.

      “That’s it?” This guy couldn’t take a hint.

      “Are you under the impression that I owe you something?” Zady wished she had the power to shift objects, specifically him. Telekinesis, that was the word. If she did, she’d move him across the room to the patio where a group of doctors were enjoying the sunshine that bathed Southern California even in January.

      “Courtesy,” the man said. “Friendliness to a stranger in a strange land.”

      “I prefer a more traditional approach to strangers,” Zady told him. “Like shooting them with an arrow. Or running in the opposite direction.”

      “Is that an invitation to give chase?” The twinkle in his eye nearly melted her defenses.

      But Zady refused to be played for a fool. A man who’d abandoned his pregnant girlfriend and their child really was a loser. Besides, she knew on which side of the cousinly divide her loyalties lay. A nurse’s duties to her doctor went beyond merely following orders.

      Instead of dignifying his comment with a reply, she said, “You never answered my question about what you’re doing here in the middle of the day.”

      Glancing toward the patio, Nick nodded to someone on the far side of the glass doors. “I was invited for informal introductions. Due to my last-minute arrival on staff, I gather I’m a little off the usual welcoming schedule.”

      Outside, the hospital administrator, Dr. Mark Rayburn, waited with a rather strained smile, Zady noted. “Gee, I guess I’ll have to let you go. What a pity.”

      “See you around, stranger.” With a teasing twist of the lips, Nick sauntered off.

      Why did he enjoy ruffling her feathers? Zady wondered as she headed for Lucky’s table. Not that she hadn’t enjoyed it, in a perverse manner.

      Aware that their interaction had been thoroughly observed, she struggled to smooth out her features.

      Except for his nosiness, her brother-in-law was a great guy, she reflected, taking a seat between him and Karen. Not only was he handsome, with dark coloring she credited to his Hispanic heritage, he was also a terrific husband to her sister. Zady would be a happy woman if she could meet someone like him, although preferably minus the elaborate tattoos peeking out from beneath the sleeves of his navy nurse’s uniform.

      “Enjoy your little chat with the new OB?” Judging by Lucky’s amused expression, he’d heard from his wife about Zora’s encounter with Nick last night. While Zady would hate to return to the days when she and her twin had barely been on speaking terms, she did not care to discuss her reactions to the annoying second Dr. Davis.

      To her relief, Karen cut in. “I have you listed for setup for the party,” she said, consulting her phone. “We’ve invited the guests for 2:00 p.m., so you should arrive by noon. It’s a week from Saturday, you’ll recall.”

      “It’s on my calendar.” Mentally, Zady placed the context: a dual-purpose party to be held at Karen’s large house. The celebration would serve as an informal reception for Karen and her anesthesiologist husband, Rod Vintner, who’d married in a small ceremony on New Year’s Eve. It would also be a joint thirtieth birthday party for Zora and Zady.

      Karen’s five-bedroom house was home to quite a clan: in addition to Karen, Rod and his two school-age daughters, Lucky, Zora and their twin babies also rented rooms, as did an older nurse.

      “Why isn’t Zady baking?” Lucky asked. “She’s famous for her apple pie.” He’d eaten several slices at Thanksgiving.

      “I thought you hated anything to do with a kitchen.” Karen peered questioningly at Zady.

      “I do, sort of.” Her forkful of salad hovered in the air. “I hate catering to people. My ex-boyfriend and his snotty kids treated me like a slave.” Since the recent breakup of her decade-long relationship, she’d avoided ovens and stoves, except when she had a chance to compete with Zora. They’d both baked pies for Thanksgiving—or rather, that had been the plan. Zady’s sense of victory over her superior crust had crumbled when she discovered her sister had sent Lucky to the supermarket to buy her pecan pie.

      While her companions continued their party planning, Zady stole a peek at the handshaking ritual on the patio. Nick’s easy manner with her had changed to short nods and taut body language. Perhaps he was intimidated by the presence of bigwigs like the fertility chief and the head of the men’s program.

      With the administrator at his side, Nick moved to the next table, where the slightly less exalted staff members rose to say hello. Perfunctory greetings faded as, across the table, his cousin uncoiled to face him.

      Dr. Nick Davis and Dr. Marshall Davis had similar builds, tall and muscular. Zady noted a strong resemblance in other ways, too, from their brown hair and straight noses to their folded arms.

      “You can almost smell the testosterone, can’t you?” Lucky murmured.

      Zady grimaced. “I’m surprised Nick chose to work here, considering their antagonism.”

      “I’m fairly sure neither of them was aware they both planned to join the staff,” Karen said.

      “Where’d you hear that?” Lucky, usually the first with the gossip, sounded slightly miffed.

      “My lips are sealed.”

      “Pillow talk,” he said in disgust. “Rod heard people yakking in the operating room.”

      Karen chuckled. “It kills you that my husband picks up scoops without even trying, doesn’t it?”

      “It’s not fair,” Lucky replied. “He has nothing to do all day but stand there monitoring his equipment and eavesdropping.”

      “Maybe he’ll move on.” When both companions frowned at her, Zady clarified, “I mean Nick. Now that he’s discovered his cousin’s here, he ought to leave.”

      “Be careful what you wish for,” said her brother-in-law. “The obstetricians thanked their stars when he jumped into the job. They were taking turns delivering babies every night until he signed on.”

      “Why do you dislike him?” Karen asked Zady.

      “I don’t.” She searched for an honest response and discovered she wasn’t sure how she felt about the man, and that troubled her. “Marshall doesn’t care for him, and that’s good enough for me.”

      “You have a lot in common, though,” Lucky said.

      “Such as?”

      “You both live at the Harbor Suites.” He grinned. “I’m sure you’ll be borrowing cups of sugar back and forth. Wait—no kitchen stuff. Okay, cups of laundry detergent. And who knows where that will lead.”

      “To

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