Oz twisted the lid off his bottled water. “I spoke with Dr T’s nurse after they got home from his chemotherapy. The treatment went okay, but he’s had a rough day.”
He wished his friend would let him go with him to the appointments. Dr T wouldn’t. Not Oz. Not Blair. Not even Stephanie, Dr T’s lady friend.
Blair glanced up, but quickly returned her attention to her food. She’d grown quiet the moment he’d stepped up to the table. Although he’d never figured out why, she didn’t much care for him. Her earlier praise to Mr Duke had caught him off guard, had swelled his chest with pride and made him feel a little light-headed.
Praise from Blair didn’t come easily. He’d found himself wanting more, to have her look at him with admiration, with attraction matching what he felt for her.
Just as well that Mr Duke’s comment about Blair being a “keeper” had reminded him that he and Blair were nothing alike.
“I talked with him this morning before they left. He sounded so down.” Blair still didn’t directly look at him. “Did something happen?”
“He couldn’t sleep. I sat up with him most of the night.”
With a long, intricately designed fingernail, Kanesha gently scratched the base of a tightly wound hair braid. “I thought he had a private duty nurse around the clock?”
Although Dr T had complained about the cost, Oz had hired the private duty nurse, paying for the care himself when Dr T’s insurance had refused. Normally a nurse stayed around the clock from Sunday night through Friday evening. Usually Oz covered the weekends, with Blair and Stephanie’s help.
“Angie had something come up with her grandson around ten and had to leave.”
Unfortunately after Angie had left, Dr T had awakened in pain and dry-heaving. He hadn’t been able to return to sleep and had wanted company. Despite the long day Oz had put in at the hospital, he’d sat up with him.
“She’ll be staying tonight, though?” Blair’s concerned eyes met his.
Oz’s breath hitched in his chest. Damn, but she had beautiful eyes. The most vivid green he’d ever seen. Her makeup-free face and natural beauty quite often had him staring at her, trying to figure out what it was that made him wish she were different, that she didn’t expect the things from a man he knew she’d expect.
Not to mention Blair’s daughter. Although he adored the little girl, Addy was enough reason to leave Blair alone.
He never became involved with women who had children. Never. Too complicated.
He nodded. “As far as I know, Angie will be there. She was back this morning prior to Stephanie arriving with Dr T’s breakfast.”
“I can sit with him tonight so you can get some sleep.”
As if he’d sleep, knowing Blair was under the same roof.
“Me, too.” Becky gave Oz a flirty smile.
“Thanks, but sitting up with Dr T isn’t a problem.” Oz cherished the time with his friend. How many more opportunities would he have to chat with him? How long before he’d never again look into his friend’s caring eyes?
Seeing the once vibrant man so feeble was wearing on Oz, but he’d never admit that to anyone.
Especially not Blair.
“No, but you can only sit up so many nights in a row before doing so takes its toll on you,” Blair pointed out, staring at him closely.
Her concern pricked a sore spot deep in Oz’s chest. Other than Dr T, had anyone ever expressed concern over his well-being? His mother on occasion when he’d been young, but she’d sent him away to private school about the time he hit puberty. He’d never returned home.
“You look tired. Dr Talbot needs you taking care of his patients, not getting sick.” Blair’s reprimand put him in his place. “If you getrundown and can’t work, he’ll worry about the cardiac unit. He doesn’t need that right now.”
He should have known her real concern was for Dr T, not him. She’d always shot him down at every opportunity during his visits. Or avoided him altogether. That wasn’t so easy this time.
“If Angie has to take off, I’ll call, Blair.” He shot an apologetic look toward Becky. “Dr T is picky about who he’ll let stay overnight, but you’re welcome to visit him.”
“Thanks.” Becky didn’t attempt to hide her disappointment.
Kanesha chuckled.
Blair toyed with her fork, dragging the tines across her mashed potatoes.
“What would you do about Addy?” He adored the imp who, with the exception of her pale blond hair, looked just like her mother. Only Addy’s green eyes lit with delight when she looked at Oz.
“I’ll bring her with me. She thinks the mermaid room is hers anyway.” Although her plate was still half-full, Blair pushed back from the table, smiled at no one in particular. “I’m heading back to the cardiology unit to get our first patient for the afternoon started. I’ll see you all there.” She paused, glanced toward Oz. “Seriously, call if Dr Talbot needs me. I’m working with Stephanie on the fund-raiser tonight, but I can reschedule if needed.”
Actually, unless Dr T’s nurse got called away, Oz was helping Stephanie tonight, too, but he didn’t tell Blair that, just nodded.
Becky began chatting, but Oz only half listened. Taking a big bite of his lunch, he watched the curvy brunette crossing the cafeteria.
Something besides hunger stirred deep in Oz’s gut. Something he didn’t know how to label or deal with, except that the only time he felt the stirring was when Blair Pendergrass was involved.
When Becky broke for breath, Kanesha, who’d observed their conversation, gave Oz a speculative look. “Dr Talbot is lucky to have you and Blair to take care of him.”
“Luck has nothing to do with it.” Oz forced his gaze away from where Blair emptied her tray. “Dr T earned my loyalty. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”
“No, I imagine there isn’t.” Kanesha’s gaze bounced to where Blair had stopped to say hi to friends at another table. “Blair’s the same way. She had a fit when the hospital began searching for a replacement, threatening to stop Dr T’s medical insurance. If you hadn’t stepped in to take his place until he could return, she would have battled the entire board to keep his job open.” Kanesha sighed, her dark face somber. “Even if he beats his cancer, and I pray he does, he’ll never work in surgery again. We all know that, but are grateful for what you’re doing.”
Oz stuffed his mouth full of green peas. He wasn’t ready to discuss the fact that he’d never walk into a surgery suite and see his friend issuing orders like a mighty general and everyone hopping to do his bidding.
What was Oz doing at the Madison Heart Association? Blair seethed. Wasn’t having to see him at the hospital more than enough torture?
She punched in a phone number from the list of businesses she and Stephanie had put together to contact.
After swinging by her house to pick up Addy from the neighbor who watched her each afternoon, Blair had gone straight to Madison Heart Association’s small office.
Ear to phone, Blair glanced around the small room that housed three desks and was lined with dozens of bookshelves loaded with educational material about heart disease. Taking a break from her Oz worshipping, Addy sat at a desk, playing a video game where she cared for her favorite virtual pet, a chocolate lab she’d named Boo-boo-too in honor of Dr Talbot’s dog. Wearing jeans and a Mayo Clinic T-shirt, Oz stood near the largest desk, one cluttered with papers, books, mail and a plastic replica of a human heart.
The man did wonders for a pair of jeans.
“You okay over there?” Stephanie called. In her fifties, the vibrant woman was the director of the Madison Heart Association.
Blair and the woman she co-coordinated the fund-raiser with had become friends long ago. Over the years, they’d spent a lot of time together at Dr Talbot’s. She often wondered if there was something between the couple. Both denied that there was. Stephanie’s denial had been a bit misty-eyed, though.
“Fine.”
Just fine, if only she could keep her mind off Oz. What was wrong with her? Usually she didn’t have this much trouble focusing on her work rather than on the man who annoyed her so much. But the more she was forced to spend time with him, the more she watched him care for Dr T, interact with Addy, the more Oz got inside her head.
“Good.” Stephanie smiled and returned her attention to the paper Oz held, outlining their plans for the fund-raiser in just a few short weeks. Stephanie had handed over the catering of the event to Oz. Blair only hoped they didn’t live to regret the decision.
Like all females, Stephanie adored Oz and didn’t bother to mask her adoration. The older woman giggled like a schoolgirl at something he’d said.
As if sensing her attention, he glanced up, caught Blair ogling him. He pinned her beneath his blue stare, defied her to look away.
Her heart pitter-pattered like a roller coaster making its highest climb, only to plunge to wicked depths and sharp turns. Her careening pulse was just from the embarrassment of being caught eyeballing him. Surely. The effect he had on her irritated her all the same.
“Hello? Hello, is anyone there?” a voice asked from the phone receiver Blair gripped.
She’d forgotten all about her call. How many hellos had she missed?
She cleared her throat and gave her spiel about the fund-raiser, all too aware Oz’s gaze remained on her. Her words came out jumbled, but to her relief, the florist on the other end of the phone pledged a hundred dollars and floral arrangements for the event.
The unexpected generosity to her garbled request pulled her back to the job she’d come to the charity to perform rather than on the man who always seemed to steal the show. She wrote down the information, then hung up the phone, a smile on her face.
“I take it you got a yes?” Oz asked.
She nodded, aware that Stephanie’s attention was now focused on her, too.
“Great job.” The older woman’s dark gaze darted back and forth between Blair and Oz. “I was afraid you’d insist on addressing envelopes and stuffing them with the mailer.”
Blair hated making cold calls, but someone had to do them. Stephanie had taken on a great deal of the work, but Blair wanted to do her part. Dr Talbot was worth making thousands of calls.
“As exciting as addressing and stuffing envelopes sounds—” Blair smiled “—I’ll stick with calls. I know how important it is that we get the donations lined up as quickly as possible.” She glanced at the stapled pages of names and businesses to be called. “Although I don’t think I’ll make it through the rest of these tonight.”
“Do what you can, but no worries. You’ve already amazed me at how many local businesses have donated.”
“I can stuff ’lopes, Mommy,” Addy piped up from where she sat, her big green eyes eager.
“Addy, honey, Mommy needs you to be close in case I need your help.” Addy was a darling and usually wellbehaved, but like any child, she had her moments.
“But I’m a really good helper,” her daughter insisted, wearing a pleading expression.
“Yes, you’re a good helper,” she began, but was interrupted by Oz going to Addy and taking her small fingers into his much larger ones. His strong fingers clasped Addy’s fragile ones, twisting Blair’s heart with a reminder of the one thing she could never give her daughter—a father’s love and affection.
Appearing totally serious, Oz thoroughly examined her daughter’s hands.
“I don’t know, Stephanie,” he contemplated, scratching his head. “What do you think? Do these look like good helper hands to you? Kind of look like pipsqueak hands to me.”
Knowing a sucker when she saw him, Addy batted her lashes at Oz. From the moment they’d met, Addy and Oz had hit it off. Probably because he acted as much like a kid as Addy did and he showered her with his attention. Addy thought Oz walked on water.
But seriously, how could Blair expect a five-year-old to resist his charms when grown women couldn’t?
“Mommy, tell Dr Oz what a good helper I am.” Addy’s bright eyes shifted to Blair, then to Oz. No puppy had ever given a more appealing look than the one her daughter bestowed upon her quarry.
Despite her melancholy, Blair bit back a smile. Oz had met his match in Addison Pendergrass.
“You’re the best helper, Addy.” Blair tried to be diplomatic in case Stephanie preferred Addy to stay near Blair. “But I’m sure the lady stuffing envelopes has things under control.”
“Actually, she could use help.” Stephanie earned a pleased look from Addy. “If that’s okay with you, Blair?”
Blair silently mouthed thank you. “As long as she’s not in the way.”
“She won’t be,” Stephanie assured, smiling her acknowledgement. “Oz will help keep an eye on her.”
Blair’s gaze shifted to Oz.
His brow arched.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” His gaze lingered, searched hers, and something flickered in his eyes, unreadable and disturbing. Surprisingly, for once, he looked away first. Turning to Addy, he poured on his own lethal brand of charm, bowing reverently.
“So, Pipsqueak, looks like you’re in charge.” He straightened, grinned, held out his hands palm-up. “I’m a good helper, too. Can I be your envelope stuffer helper?”
Taking his outstretched hands, examining them as closely as he’d done hers, Addy pretended to consider.
“Hey!” Oz teased when she dragged out the examination longer than he deemed necessary. “It’s not like I have cooties.”
“You can be my helper.” Addy giggled, slapping her thigh at her joke. “Since you don’t have cooties.”
“No cooties here,” he promised. “Let me finish going over this form with Stephanie while you save your game, okay? Then we’ll show the world how envelopes are supposed to be addressed and stuffed.”
Two hours later, Blair had procured donations of several more items for the event. She reached up to massage her contracted neck muscles. Man, it had been a long day.
“Tired?”
Startled, she glanced toward where Oz stood in the doorway, watching her. Her fingers paused mid-knead.
“A little.” How long had he been standing there? “I sat too long without stretching.”
She rotated her stiff neck.
When Oz moved behind her, she knew what he was going to do even before she felt his fingers. She wanted to stop him, opened her mouth to do so, but her breath caught, held, burned in her chest.
He touched her tense flesh.
Shards of electricity pulsated through her, lighting fires where he touched and radiating out to the tips of her fingers and toes.
Blair’s insides turned to goop.
This was bad. Very bad.
But oh, my, did bad feel good.
Way too good to find her voice and make him stop.
It was just a quick therapeutic massage. Nothing more.
For therapy. That was all. Really.
Blair’s hands dropped to her lap.
He stroked her tight muscles with a feathery touch. His fingers traced across the curve of her neck. So lightly she could almost think she imagined the burn of his fingertips through the short strands of her hair.
But she wasn’t imagining his touch.
Or her reaction.
Every nerve cell zinged to life, jumped, flipped inside out.
Sighing, she closed her eyes.
His pressure increased.
Standing behind her chair, he worked on her neck and upper shoulders, dispensing every knot, leaving sensitized chaos in his wake.
Every breath echoed across endless time.
Every heartbeat thundered through endless space.
His fingers were magic that massaged away every reason she should tell him to stop, magic that made her forget she didn’t like him.
His hand moved around her neck, stroked over her shoulders, her clavicle.
“Mmm.” She angled to give him easier access, the back of her head brushing against his flat abdomen.
Oh, my.
His fingers skimmed back and forth, slow, teasing, caressing the column of her throat, her chin. He gently traced her mouth. Her tongue darted out to moisten her suddenly dry lips. His fingers paused.
Blair’s breath caught and held.
Butterflies danced in her belly, sending up a fluttery rainbow of sensations that brought her black-and-white world into Technicolor. Sensations that made her acutely aware that she was a woman.
It had been a long time since she’d felt that awareness.
She turned, looked up at him, saw the desire reflected in his eyes.
He reached for her, taking her hand, pulling her to her feet, their bodies so close they practically touched. In a daze, Blair breathed in his spicy scent, felt his palm cup her face, felt his body heat lure her closer, for her to close the small gap between them.
Although she knew she had to stop him, that she couldn’t kiss Oz when she had no room for him in her life, when he’d only end up hurting her if she let her guard down, she touched his face, running her finger over the cleft in his chin, fighting the strongest desire to do the same with her lips. She loved that indentation, that impression on his flawless face.
“Blair, I—”
“How’s it going, you two?” Stephanie stepped into the room.
Blair jerked away from Oz.
Oh, God.
What had she been doing? Thinking?
Addy could have walked in, seen.
Mortified, Blair couldn’t look at Stephanie. How could she when she’d just been caught with Oz?
A man she didn’t even like!
Dear, sweet heavens. She should have stopped him the moment he’d touched her.
She should have stopped him before her body throbbed from his touch, before she wanted to find out what all the hype about Oz Manning was really about.
A quickie massage didn’t mean anything to Oz. but darn it, she didn’t do this. Physical acts meant something to her, meant a lot to her, but…she should have stopped him. She wasn’t one of his groupies. How could she have behaved no better than any of his other conquests? Hadn’t she learned anything from her experience with Chris?
“Oh, sorry,” Stephanie began, a little red-faced and flustered, too.
No way could she not suspect what Blair and Oz had been about to do.
They’d almost kissed. Oh…oh…oh, darn!
This was insane.
Insane. That was exactly right. Temporary insanity.
Because that was what Oz had done. Driven her insane with his playboy ways and his tenderness toward Dr Talbot and Addy. How could he be such a cad with women and yet so appealing with her daughter and dearest friend? With his patients?
“Did you need something?” Oz’s eyes flashed with annoyance and perhaps relief, too, at Stephanie’s interruption.
“What’s going on?” Her gaze dropped to where his hand burned into Blair’s lower back like a hot poker. Her thin cotton shirt was no barrier to the sear of his touch.
Needing to put as much space between them as she could, Blair stepped forward.
Oz’s hand fell to his side. “Blair had a crick in her neck.”
Stephanie’s brow quirked. “And you offered to help out?”
“You know me. Always willing to lend a helping hand.”
Blair refused to look at him. She didn’t want to know if he wore a serious expression or if he’d waggled those thick blond brows, making light of the situation. She only wanted to rush to the bathroom and splash cold water on her face in the hope of waking herself and finding this was all a nightmare.
Seeming to have recovered from her initial shock, Stephanie smirked at Oz’s comment. “Especially when a female is involved?”
“Blair is certainly female.”
Blair thought she might die of mortification.
At least then she wouldn’t have to face the reality that she’d let Oz Manning touch her. Not just touch her, but touch her.
He might have started out just massaging her neck, but when Stephanie had walked in he’d been about to kiss her.
The worst part was that she’d let him touch her. As much as she wanted to believe she would have stopped him, she wasn’t so sure that she would have. If Stephanie hadn’t interrupted, she’d be swapping spit with the worst playboy she’d ever encountered.
With Addy in the next room.
Had she completely lost her mind?
“I came to tell you Dorothy is leaving in just a few. Addy is helping her finish the last of the mailers.”
Drawing upon all her strength, Blair kept her shoulders high and walked around the desk. She checked her watch. Almost eight on a school night.
“I need to go, too, but I’m off duty on Saturday. Would that be an okay time for Addy and I to come back?”
Stephanie’s curious eyes lit with gratitude. “That would be wonderful. Addy was a great help with the envelopes.”
“I’ll take the list home with me and finish making the calls while I’m at lunch tomorrow or Friday. Perhaps even at Dr Talbot’s tomorrow night if he naps. Maybe I can get the rest marked off between now and Saturday.”
“I’ll be here on Saturday, too. I’ll bring Dr T with me if he’s up to it. He needs to get out of the house.” Oz moved behind Blair, not so close that he was touching her, but enough that his scent enveloped her, taking her back to the moments before Stephanie had walked into the room. No. No. No. She did not wish she’d kissed Oz.
“We’ll go over what we have covered for the fund-raiser,” Oz continued, oblivious to the effect he was having on Blair. “Hire out what we don’t, grab some lunch, then spend the rest of the day with Dr T.”
“Thanks.” Stephanie smiled knowingly at them, a pleased smile, making Blair even more self-conscious. “I’ll just go tell Dorothy goodbye and leave you two alone so Oz can go back to…um…helping.”
Great.
The moment Stephanie was gone, Blair spun toward Oz. “What do you think you’re doing?”
“Don’t go all defensive,” he warned, giving her a frustrated look that said perhaps he wasn’t as calm as he’d pretended. That maybe he had been aware of the effect his nearness was having on her and that he’d been just as affected.
“I’m not being defensive,” she spat back, determined not to go soft on him again.
“Yes, you are. I understand.” The blasted man stroked his knuckles across her face. “We should go somewhere and talk.”
Talk? Yeah, right. Oz wasn’t known for talking to women.
Glaring at him, Blair pulled back. He couldn’t touch her. She couldn’t let him. He was dangerous. Too dangerous.
Just look what had happened the last time she’d let a man get close to her. She’d ended up pregnant and alone, mourning the death of a man she hadn’t known had been married to someone else, much less that he’d had other “girlfriends.”
Now, she had a great life that she’d worked long and hard to forge. She wouldn’t let a man destroy her a second time.
“We have nothing to say to each other.”
“We need to talk about what just happened.” Was he staring at her lips?
Dear Lord, he was.
She swallowed. Hard.
She’d known he hadn’t really wanted to talk. Did he think she was a fool? That he could just almost kiss her and she’d fall at his feet?
“Nothing happened, Dr Manning,” she snapped coolly. “Even if Stephanie hadn’t walked in, nothing would have happened. I don’t like you, and I certainly didn’t want you to touch me or kiss me.” The words ground out between gritted teeth. “I prefer for you to stay away from me and my daughter. Got it?”
Oz had wanted to kiss Blair more than he recalled ever wanting to kiss any woman.
He’d wanted to kiss her so much he ached with need from the ends of his hair to the tips of his toes and all in between.
He’d especially ached in between.
Now he just wanted to strangle her lying throat.
He wasn’t some inexperienced schoolboy. He knew when a woman wanted him. Blair had wanted him to kiss her. Perhaps not as much as he’d wanted to kiss her, but she’d wanted his mouth on hers.
But she was right. He shouldn’t have touched her.
Hadn’t he always known not to touch Blair? That touching her wouldn’t be nearly enough? Hadn’t he subconsciously appreciated that she avoided him because it made doing the right thing easier? Hadn’t he always made a point to keep a physical distance between them?