The Doctor's Calling. Stella Bagwell

then lifted his cowboy hat and ran a hand through his tousled hair. “You’re really too good for me.”

      In an effort to lighten the moment, she quietly laughed. “I know that.”

      His brown eyes locked with hers as his body moved ever so much closer to hers. “You’re laughing,” he pointed out in a low voice. “And it’s not a blue moon.”

      “No,” she said inanely, while wondering wildly what he was doing and why. He’d never looked at her this way. Never touched her this way. “Sometimes it just slips out of me.”

      He let out another long breath, and Laurel could feel the warmth of it brushing her cheeks. Thankfully, she had a scarf wrapped around her neck; otherwise he’d be able to see the pulse pounding rapidly at the base of her throat.

      “I’m glad you can laugh, Laurel. I’m glad you’re happy with the house. And I’m glad you chose to come here with me.”

      His words were buzzing through her brain, even as she watched his lips growing closer and closer to hers.

      Was he actually going to kiss her?

      The incredulous thought had barely skipped through her head when his palm came up to rest against her cheek and his lips came down on hers.

      For a brief second as their lips made contact, she was sure her heart stopped completely. And then suddenly every part of her body was flooded with sensations so intense she staggered back slightly against the cabinet counter.

      He moved with her, and for what seemed like an eternity, but not nearly long enough, his lips moved over hers in a warm, thorough search that sucked every ounce of breath from her body.

      When he finally lifted his head and broke the contact between them, Laurel was visibly shaken, and she stared at him as fear came rushing in behind a wall of desire.

      “What—Why did you do that?” she finally managed to ask.

      Regret, or something like it, twisted his features. “I don’t know. I’m sorry.”

      “I don’t want to hear that from you.”

      “All right. You won’t,” he retorted, his demeanor suddenly changing back to the boss she’d dealt with for the past five fears.

      With a tiny groan, she twisted away from him and hurried out of the kitchen. He followed her into the living room, but stopped a few feet away from where she stood near the picture window.

      Glancing over her shoulder, her gaze slid over him, his stance wide and his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his coat. Although there was nothing inviting about the expression on his face, Laurel still wanted to run and fling her arms around him.

      She was crazy, she thought. Hopelessly crazy.

      “If you’ve seen enough, I think we’d better be heading on to the other house,” he suggested gruffly.

      Laurel looked out the window and wondered why now, after all this time, she felt tears burning her throat and stinging the backs of her eyes. Since Lainey had died, she rarely ever shed tears over anything. It wasn’t right that Russ could pull that much emotion from her.

      She said stiffly, “If you don’t mind, I’d rather stay here and look at things a bit more.”

      “All right. I’ll be back in a few minutes,” he told her.

      She nodded and he quickly left the house. From her spot at the window, she watched his headlights pull away, then head on up the mountain. But once they were completely out of sight, she sank weakly onto the arm of the couch and dropped her head in her hands.

      This wasn’t going to work, she thought sickly. Not this lovely little house, or the job, or him. Because his kiss had shown her exactly how much she was missing and all the things she could never have. Wherever she went on this ranch he’d be nearby and his kiss would be haunting her, tempting her. How could she ever endure that much misery?

      She’d have to bear it, she told herself. Or live her life without him. And that was a choice she wasn’t quite ready to make.