Dr. Mommy. Elizabeth Bevarly

be before she went to sleep after that. Even an hour or two of rest would help enormously.

      “We should go to bed,” she said.

      At the soft sound of disbelief Nick uttered, she closed her eyes. “That’s not what I meant and you know it,” she said flatly, turning to face him again. When she opened her eyes, she saw that he didn’t look quite as tired as he had before. No, in fact, he appeared quite capable of staying awake for hours, if offered the right kind of incentive.

      “Hey, I don’t know jack,” he told her. “Why? What were you talking about? My, my, my, Claire. Get your mind out of the gutter.”

      “Yeah, you wish it was in the gutter,” she shot back. But somehow she couldn’t quite quell the soft smile that threatened to bloom.

      Nick smiled, too, though his own effort was considerably more predatory. “I remember a few occasions when we both had our minds there. It was a lot of fun. To put it mildly.”

      Claire’s smile fell at his willingness to continue with what she considered a very dangerous topic. But she couldn’t battle the heat seeping through her at the memories—anything but mild—that exploded fast and furious in her brain. Fast and furious. That was how it had always been between them. As if they both feared they’d never get enough of each other. As if they’d somehow known their time together was limited, and they had to make the most of every second. As if they couldn’t bear to be apart. As if they needed to consume each other in order to survive.

      We were both kids then, she tried to remind herself. It was nothing more than hormones.

      That was all it had been to make them react to each other with the instant and complete intensity that they had, she told herself again. Hormones. Biology. Chemistry. And okay, anatomy, too. It was all very scientific, very natural. A chemical reaction, nothing more. A really, really hot chemical reaction, granted, but a reaction nonetheless. They were two mature adults now, fully capable of keeping that kind of response under control. No way would they burn for each other the way they once had.

      She gazed at Nick again, feeling her maturity level drop as quickly as her temperature rose. Uh-oh.

      “It’s over,” she told him, trying not to choke on the lie. “That’s all in the past. There’s nothing there between us now.”

      He emitted another, louder, sound of disbelief in response to her statement. “Right,” he said, not bothering to hide his sarcasm. “Sure, Claire. Whatever you say. If it makes you feel better, then by all means, you go ahead and wallow in your little fantasy.”

      “It’s not a fantasy,” she insisted. “It’s true.”

      He eyed her levelly as he took a step toward her. “So you’ve put the past completely behind you. Is that what you’re telling me?”

      She nodded and somehow managed to murmur, “Yes.”

      He took another casual step forward. “Since opening that door a couple hours ago, you haven’t experienced a single stir of old emotion?”

      This time she shook her head, but her voice was a little shaky as she told him, “No.”

      Another, less casual, step forward. “Not even one little spark of heat?”

      This time Claire didn’t trust her voice not to betray her, so she only shook her head again and remained silent.

      Nick, however, continued to speak. And take yet another step toward her. “Not so much as a banked ember?”

      This time Claire couldn’t even manage to shake her head. All she could do was watch Nick’s face, noting the flicker of heat and the play of light in his dark eyes as he drew nearer still.

      “So then it’s just me,” he continued, his voice dropping to a dangerously low pitch. “It’s just me who’s been feeling this current of electricity jumping back and forth between us like a generator wound way too tight?”

      She cleared her throat with some difficulty and forced herself to respond. Unfortunately, the only response that emerged was lame at best. “I, uh…I think you must be imagining things, Nick.”

      One more step forward, and he stood immediately in front of her, with scarcely a breath of air separating them. She told herself she should be offended that he’d usurped her space the way he had, without asking her permission, without thought for how it might make her feel. It was just another reminder of why the two of them hadn’t worked out together the first time around.

      As much as she had loved him, Nick had always overrun Claire. He hadn’t meant to do it, and it hadn’t been because he’d wanted more than she was willing to give. That’s just the way Nick was. Overwhelming. Larger than life. Too big, too happy, too outgoing, too gregarious, too loving, too…too…

      Too too.

      Claire had always felt overshadowed, overpowered. Not just by Nick, but by the entire Campisano clan. They’d all been just like him. Too affectionate, too kind, too nurturing. All of them had always been totally in tune with one another, as if they were all different parts of one big, beautifully purring machine. Where one lacked, the other supplied. Where one hurt, the other healed. Where one despaired, the other encouraged.