Playboy Surgeon, Top-Notch Dad. Janice Lynn

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