The Doctor's Secret Son. Janice Lynn

had just finished with the only other patient in the tent and sent him on his way with an antacid and instructions to cut back on spicy foods. “Will you check on Ms. Perez’s ankle in a few? She’s got about another ten minutes of icing, then have one of the guys take her to wherever she wants to go. Chrissie and I are going to the main area for a while.”

      Alexis shot an envious glance toward Chrissie, then nodded. “No problem.”

      “Perfect. See, I’ll be fine.” Ms. Perez shooed them away. “You two go have a little fun.”

      Before she could find another excuse, Trace grabbed Chrissie’s hand and led her out of Medical. “Thank you.”

      “For?”

      “Not kicking and screaming the whole way. I needed to get out of there for a few.”

      She looked as if she still might kick and scream, then her expression morphed into one of confusion. “Trace, what were you thinking about back there?”

      He shook his head. “Nothing important now. Let’s go check out the bubbles.”

      Her hand was still inside his. He didn’t want to let go so he held on tightly as he led them toward the bubbles. Her hand felt warm and comfortable in his.

      As if it belonged there.

      Without thought he lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to the top. Because that felt warm and comfortable, as if it belonged in that moment in time.

      “Trace, I...” Chrissie’s voice trailed off as she came to an abrupt stop and stared up at him. “You shouldn’t.”

      She was right. He shouldn’t, but he was glad he had. They stood behind the medical tent on the path leading toward the main event area. They were alone, but someone could come up the path at any time.

      “Probably not.” He was only home for a short while, had nothing to offer her beyond the weekend. Which was too bad, because from the time he’d seen her he’d known what he wanted, what he needed. Chrissie.

      “Yes.”

      But her eyes said something different and that fueled him forward to say what had already been in the back of his mind, tempting his conscious thought and actions.

      “We were good together. We could be good together again.”

      Her expression tightened.

      And then he’d take off for parts unknown, for who knew how long, before he’d be home for another few weeks’ hiatus from his reality? Maybe he should let the attraction go but, for whatever reason, he pushed. Whatever it was about Chrissie seemed to be dictating his every move from the moment he’d laid eyes on her that afternoon.

      “I can tell you’re still attracted to me,” he pointed out, as if that were breaking news.

      “Doesn’t matter.” Her exasperation was palpable, and yet she still didn’t pull her hand away from his, just kept staring at where their fingers intertwined.

      “Sure, it does.” To prove his point, he bent and pressed his lips to hers. Gentle, to where she could push him away with ease if she wanted to.

      He hoped she didn’t. Her lips were so sweet.

      She didn’t stop him or push him away, but he felt the struggle within her and that gave him pause.

      He pulled back, stared down into her wide eyes.

      Her wide, slightly dazed eyes.

      Her eyes that were filled with desire so sweet it punched him in the gut.

      This was why he hadn’t been able to resist kissing her.

      Because her kisses were addictive and powerful. He craved what being with her promised.

      “You taste good, like the sweetest wine, making me want to drink until I’m intoxicated,” he admitted. “Let me, Chrissie. We both know you want to.”

       CHAPTER FOUR

      CHRISSIE STARED UP at the man who had haunted her dreams for four years. Who needed more? One kiss and she already felt drunk.

      Because his kiss drugged her and made her forget reason.

      She wanted to drag him back to her, to kiss him all over until they were both satiated, until the whole world subsided and it was just the two of them.

      As it had felt four years ago.

      “What a marvelous event,” a woman’s voice interrupted as she and a group of women rounded the path.

      Tugging her hand free from his, Chrissie stepped back to the side of a tent.

      “Absolutely. CCPO fund-raisers are always the best fun,” another chimed in.

      “The first day and we’re already sneaking around in the shadows.”

      “Which should tell you something.”

      She sighed. “That I’m crazy?”

      “That there’s something between us.”

      More than he knew.

      “That doesn’t mean we should act on that something,” she tried to reason, reminding herself that she had to think of Joss, not her crazy body’s reaction to him.

      “Should I apologize that I want you still, Chrissie? Do you want me to pretend I don’t find you attractive?”

      Her heartbeat thundered in her ears. “If I said yes, would you?”

      He studied her a moment, then took on a slight look of remorse. “If you said yes.”

      Say no. Say no. Say no.

      Chrissie wasn’t sure where the inner voice was coming from, but the phrase beat in perfect rhythm with her racing heart.

      “I know you’re struggling with this, Chrissie. I see it in your eyes when you look at me. I felt it in your kiss. You wanted to let go and just feel, but wouldn’t allow yourself.”

      He certainly had her pegged.

      “My question is why?”

      “Been there, done that,” she reminded him.

      “Was our time together so bad?”

      “No, but I’d like to think I’ve learned a thing or two over the last four years.”

      “Such as?”

      “Such as I shouldn’t get mixed up with sexy strangers.”

      “I’m not a stranger.”

      “Sure, you are.”

      His brow inched upward. “You believe that?”

      “Yes.”

      “Then we should get to know each other this weekend.”

      She narrowed her gaze suspiciously. “To what purpose?”

      “To know each other. There doesn’t have to be a purpose beyond that.”

      In the flickering light of the shadows, Chrissie stared at him. Get to know Trace? Why?

      What about when Joss asked about his father years down the road?

      Simple things like what was his favorite color and had he played sports or had any major childhood illnesses? Shouldn’t she know how to answer her son? Wouldn’t it be horrible to have to say she didn’t know anything beyond the fact that Trace had seemed a likable, good person, and had made her laugh and feel as if she was sexy?

      He still made her feel sexy.

      Every time his eyes lit on her, they shifted as if molten gold had been poured in their depths. Trace wanted her. Whatever the attraction between them