he would acknowledge, anyway. “Honey, I haven’t slept with that many women who work there.”
“I don’t care,” she insisted. “Or I wouldn’t care, except that now I’m one of them.”
“It’s not as if I’ve been walking around wearing a sign—I Melted Dr. Wall-ice.”
She glared at him. “This isn’t funny.”
“I agree,” he said. “Nor is it anything to be ashamed of. We’re two unattached, consenting adults who gave in to a mutual and compelling attraction.”
“We had unprotected sex.”
He nodded. “My bad. I’m not in the habit of carrying condoms in my scrub shirt,” he said, attempting a casualness he did not feel. “But that still doesn’t explain—” he held up the lab report “—this.”
“I wanted to reassure you that there’s no reason for you to worry—” she bit down on her lower lip “—on my side, I mean.”
“But you’re worried about mine,” he realized.
He couldn’t blame her for being concerned. He was well aware of his reputation around the hospital—and well aware that it had been greatly exaggerated. That knowledge had never bothered him before, but now, seeing Avery’s misery and distress, he wished he’d clarified a few things. Or a lot of things.
Of course, it was too late now. She’d obviously made up her mind about him and nothing he said was going to change it. He put the lab report back into the envelope and returned it to her. “Most of the other women I’ve been with just want to cuddle after sex.”
“Most of the other women are why I’d like some quid pro quo.”
He nodded. “I’ll take care of it tomorrow.”
In retrospect, Avery probably could have handled the situation better, but the whole experience with Justin was way outside her comfort zone. She wasn’t great with personal relationships in general, and men like Justin—not that there were many men like Justin—flustered her beyond belief.
He was so totally confident and unapologetically sexy, and completely aware of the effect he had on people. Especially women. It was why, for most of the three and a half years she’d worked at Mercy Hospital, she’d put as much distance between them as possible.
Of course, distance wasn’t always possible. There were times that they needed to consult and collaborate with respect to the care of patients, and at those times, she did what had to be done, careful to maintain a calm facade and professional demeanor. But when she had a choice, she chose to stay far away from his orbit, because she didn’t trust herself to resist the magnetic pull that he seemed to exert on women without even trying. She hadn’t been able to resist it on New Year’s Eve. She hadn’t wanted to resist him.
When she’d realized that they’d had sex without a condom, she’d panicked a little. Or maybe a lot. And then she’d started to think about all the possible repercussions of having unprotected sex with a man who’d had numerous other sexual partners. As a doctor, she would have been irresponsible to ignore his history, especially after she’d already been irresponsible in having unprotected sex with him.
She didn’t see much of Justin over the next few days after her visit to his apartment, which wasn’t unusual. Depending on their schedules, she might cross paths with him numerous times in a day or not at all for several shifts. What was unusual was that she found herself looking for him, wondering when she might see him and even the wondering filled her stomach with an uncomfortable fluttery feeling.
When she did see him, his demeanor toward her was nothing but professional, and she strove to treat him with the same courtesy. But her awareness of him was heightened now, and whenever he was near, her body stirred with not just memories but longing.
Friday afternoon, she’d just finished a consult regarding the course of action for a multiple pregnancy when he caught her in the conference room.
“I’ve got those test results you wanted,” he told her.
She’d been so focused on her work that it took Avery a moment to realize what he was talking about. But when she did, the knots that had been in her belly since New Year’s Day tightened.
She looked at him expectantly. His statement suggested that he intended to share the results with her, but his hands were empty. “Are you actually going to let me see them?”
“Of course,” he agreed. “At dinner tonight.”
She sighed. “Dr. Garrett—”
“Dr. Wallace,” he countered, his tone amused.
“I’m not going to have dinner with you.”
“Yes, you are,” he said confidently. “Because you want to hold the lab report in your hands and meticulously scrutinize every letter and digit.”
She did, of course. Because she needed to be sure. But she didn’t believe he, as a medical professional, would really hold back the results. Certainly not if there was any reason for her to be concerned.
“You’re clean,” she decided, feigning a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “You wouldn’t be playing games otherwise.”
“And if I’d told you I was clean, that our romantic—” she snorted derisively at that, while he narrowed his gaze and continued “—liaison was the first time I’ve forgotten a condom since I was a horny, fumbling seventeen-year-old, would you have believed me?”
“Probably not,” she admitted.
“Which is why there has to be a tiny niggling of doubt in your mind,” he said. “Barely a seed right now, but if you don’t hold those results in your hand, that seed will grow...and grow.”
She glared at him, because dammit, he was right. “What time did you want to eat?”
His smile was smug. “Seven o’clock. Valentino’s.”
She shook her head. “Seven o’clock works, but I’ll cook.”
“I’d be flattered by your offer to cook for me if I didn’t suspect your true motivation is that being seen in public with me might damage your reputation.”
“I suspect you’re just as worried about your own, considering that I’m not your usual type.”
“And what is my usual type?” he asked curiously.
“Ready, willing and able.”
“You’ve got me there,” he acknowledged. “But then it’s not really true to say you’re not my type, because you were all of those things when we were in SC together.”
She frowned. “SC?”
Despite the fact that they were alone in the room, he lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “I decided that should be our code for the supply closet. That way, if anyone overhears us talking, they’ll think we stole away to South Carolina together rather than a six-by-eight utility room.”
“No worries,” she told him. “We’re not going to be talking about it. Not after tonight.”
“Seven o’clock at your place?” he prompted.
She nodded and gave him her address.
“You’re not worried that being alone with me will tempt you to jump my bones again?”
“I didn’t ‘jump your bones’ the first time,” she denied hotly.
“You made the first move.”
“It was a kiss. Simple, casual, friendly.”
“It was a spark,” he countered. “And considering