signal meant.
And he’d been loud. So loud.
Heavens!
She swallowed, her stomach quaking at the memory.
But just because she’d made one mistake, that didn’t mean she should follow it up with another. She was a smart woman, not a shrinking, naive teenager—at least, not any more. She’d already seen what Dr. Markinho wanted from her.
And it certainly wasn’t her expertise in the exam room.
Which was why she needed to keep that cold shoulder aimed squarely at the man following behind her. Except, judging from the way her butt was growing warmer by the second, she had a feeling the good doctor was looking anywhere but at her shoulder.
“Here we are.”
Thank God. She turned to face him at the glass door of the physical therapy room. Damn. Maybe she’d been wrong. He looked perfectly in control, just like he always did—not a dark hair out of place, although a few streaks of grey had gathered at his temples, like clouds before a storm. And the man’s gaze was definitely glued to her face, not the slightest twitch of eyes wandering to other places.
Maybe she’d been imagining things.
Or worse...wishing.
CHAPTER TWO
“MARCOS! EARTH TO MARCOS!”
Cool fingers covered his eyes, and someone gave him a quick peck on top of the head, which almost caused him to lose his grip on his first real cup of coffee of the day. For a split second he thought it was Maggie who’d kissed him.
It wasn’t.
He gave a soft curse, then twisted his head sideways to dislodge the person’s hands. “Sophia, this is not the place.”
“Nossa Senhora. You’re so grouchy nowadays.”
His childhood friend dropped into one of the hospital cafeteria’s tan upholstered chairs and crinkled her nose in irritation.
Almost as slender as she’d been during their days at the orphanage, Sophia Limeira had looked Marcos straight in the eye when he’d arrived at the state-run home, plopped her thumb out of her mouth and offered the wet digit up to him. He’d just stood there staring at her, trying not to cry in front of his little brother, who kept asking where Papai was...when they were going home. Marcos had already grasped the truth of their situation from the moment he’d seen the policeman on the other side of the fence: they weren’t going home. Not ever.
Sophia, as if recognizing a lost soul when she saw one—had stuck to his side like glue from that moment on. Had even followed him into the medical field. Marcos, in turn, had protected her when she’d been little—still felt the need to protect her now that she was an adult. And even though she griped about it constantly, he had a feeling she secretly liked the fact that someone cared.
He took a tentative sip of his coffee as he tried to formulate a response to her declaration. “I’m not grouchy. I’m busy.”
With a flourish of her fingers, four rectangular slips of paper appeared, splayed apart like a hand of cards. “Too busy to go with me to the ballet? I won four tickets from a promotion they were having at Printemps.”
“Printemps? What the hell is that?”
“Wow, Marcos. Such language.” She sighed and stuffed the tickets back in her bag. “It’s a department store down on 25 de Março. I know you’ve seen it.”
A bargain-hunter’s paradise, the huge shopping district in the center of São Paulo was a chaotic beehive of activity on the best of days...and the last place Marcos ever ventured, if he could help it. The area could also be dangerous. “You went down there by yourself?”
Sophia rolled her eyes. “I’m not a kid any more, remember? We’ve talked about this.”
“We did. And you agreed to take someone with you when you shopped.”
“I did. I took the American girl you have working for you. She’d never been.” Her brows came together in rebuke. “After six months, can you believe it? You should have at least offered to show it to her.”
Yeah, right. He could just see that happening. Maybe he’d ask her tomorrow, in fact. Marcos pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling a headache coming on.
Maggie was the last person he wanted Sophia hanging around with. His friend might take it on herself to do something crazy.
“Anyway,” she continued, “Maggie said she’d go to the ballet with me, but that leaves two tickets. She said she was sure you’d want to go as well.”
Something crazy. Like that.
His hand dropped back to the table, eyes narrowing. Somehow he doubted it had been Maggie’s suggestion that he go. “Sorry. Can’t make it.”
“You don’t even know what the dates are yet.”
It didn’t matter. No way was he going to the ballet with Sophia and her new BFF.
He tried to pry the truth out of her. “Did Dr. Pfeiffer actually mention me by name?”
“She did.” Sophia drew an X across her chest with her index finger. “Juro.”
I swear. Fitting, since he’d like to do a little swearing himself.
“What did she say, exactly?”
“Well, I said I might ask you to go along with us, and Maggie said, ‘Do that.’”
He gave a short laugh, relief washing through him. “It’s called sarcasm, Soph. Americans use it a lot.”
Okay, well, that cleared up that little mystery.
Undaunted by his lack of enthusiasm, she leaned forward. “Did you know Americans also use this...” she made a circle of her thumb and forefinger, shielding the sign with her other hand to keep it hidden from fellow diners “...to mean that something is good? Maggie said she accidentally used it with a patient a while ago.”
“Yes. I know.” Marcos pushed her hand down with a frown and held onto it. “That doesn’t mean you should go around flashing it.”
He remembered exactly when Maggie had used that sign. Seventy-nine-year-old Guilherme Lima had come in to ask about his test results, and before Marcos had realized what her intentions were, out had come the finger circle accompanied by an emphatic shake or two of her hand. He’d thought the poor man—whose test results really had been A-okay—had been going to die of a stroke right there in his office. Marcos had thought he might just follow his patient over the edge. But for an entirely different reason. Maggie’s innocent demeanor, accompanied by that obscene gesture, had set off a firestorm in his belly that had lasted the rest of the day.
When he’d offered to drive her home with the idea of setting her straight in private so she wouldn’t be embarrassed, things hadn’t gone exactly as planned. He’d explained why she shouldn’t use that sign, and her eyes had gone wide as she’d licked her lips. Another deadly combination he hadn’t been able to resist—and hadn’t bothered trying. Then she’d dropped that water bottle and leaned forward...
Something he was better off not thinking about right now.
As if he’d summoned her, a flash of red to the side caught his attention, and he swiveled his head to look. Maggie was in line with a tray, but her eyes were on him, following the line of his arm to where his hand still held Sophia’s. A frown marred her brow, and something about it made Marcos let go of Sophia in a rush.
A second later, he thought better of it. Had his friend even explained their relationship to her? That he’d been Sophia’s sidekick at the orphanage?
Why did it matter? In fact, it might not be a bad thing if Maggie thought there was a little something going on between them.
Which