The Most Eligible Doctor. Karen Smith Rose

when the position at the family practice had opened, she’d decided it was just what she needed while she settled her parents’ estate and got her life in some kind of order. “I’m not sure where I want it to take me.”

      “Why didn’t you go to med school and follow in your father’s footsteps?” Jed’s gaze was probing.

      “I’m not sure how to explain.” She thought of Bobby and how she’d helped nurse him every day after school. “I like caring for patients, not just listening to their symptoms and prescribing medication. I saw my father’s life—how he wanted to give more time to each patient but couldn’t always, the kind of hours he kept, being called out in the middle of the night. If I ever have a family, I’d like to keep working. But I also want to be there for them. Do you know what I mean?”

      Jed knew exactly what she meant. Caroline had accused him often of not being available, of his patients always coming first. He didn’t feel it was true. Especially after their daughter was born. Trisha had been the light of his life, and sometimes he’d thought Caroline was jealous of that. She’d been a pampered, spoiled rich girl, used to being the center of attention. Unfortunately, he hadn’t realized that until after he’d married her.

      Brianne came from money, too. Nevertheless, he’d felt her compassion, could see what a caring nature she had. Maybe that’s why his desire for her was only part of what was going on. Her soft, bronze-colored sweater had a round neck that molded to her creamy throat. Her calf-length wool skirt draped enticingly over her slender hips and curvy legs. When he’d carried her earlier and her arms had gone around his neck, he’d realized he’d been alone for a long time now.

      The flaming wood in the fireplace popped and crackled. The sip of brandy he’d taken made a burning path down his throat. Yet the heat inside him had nothing to do with the fire or the brandy.

      Brianne was looking up at him with such complete absorption…

      “Brianne,” he said huskily.

      She didn’t move, just kept studying his face, his lips, as if she was as curious as he was about the chemistry brewing between them.

      Bending his head, he savored the moment of wanting her…of needing her. He reveled in the feeling as his blood started racing faster and his hunger built. His lips hovered over hers and he heard her sigh, then catch her breath. But she didn’t move away.

      I feel alive again, he thought as his lips touched hers.

      Fascinated by the soft curls and their fiery color, Jed was unable to resist sliding his hand into Brianne’s hair. His tongue instinctively slipped between her lips, and when her hands went to his shoulders, he brought her closer. Breathing her in, he delved into her mouth, giving himself up to the kiss, to Brianne, the fire and the brandy.

      Numb as he’d been to his physical needs for the past four years, Jed felt more aroused now than he’d ever been in his life. Brianne’s soft moan, her surrender to the desire between them, her sweet beauty, spun him into turmoil and excitement and hunger.

      It was the hunger that stopped him—the soul-deep, aching hunger that he knew he could never satisfy. He couldn’t use Brianne as a Band-aid. He wouldn’t take advantage of her. He shouldn’t become involved at all.

      Tearing away from her, controlling the mind-drugging sensations of holding her, tasting her and kissing her, he shifted until there was space between them.

      He waited until he saw the sensual haze in her eyes dissipate a bit. “That was a mistake that won’t happen again.”

      Her cheeks were flushed, and she looked embarrassed and vulnerable.

      “We have to work together,” he added. Then, as if he needed more reasons to keep his distance, he continued, “And I’m much older than you are. I’m not looking for an involvement.”

      “I see,” she murmured, studying her hands now, rather than him.

      He stood. “I’d better see to that snowblower. Your room is the one at the top of the stairs. I put towels on the bed.”

      Trying to act casual, she repositioned a sofa pillow. “Do you think we’ll be able to get out in the morning?”

      “I’m hoping the plow will come through.”

      Finally her gaze met his. When he looked into her eyes, he remembered the kiss and saw she was remembering, too. He’d been an idiot to give in to the moment. He wouldn’t do so again.

      As he turned away from Brianne, he tried to shut off everything that kiss had stirred up inside him. But as he left her staring into the fire, took his jacket from the closet and went out into the swirling snow, he felt as if a locked door had been opened.

      And he might never be able to lock it again.

      The mattress was lumpy, but that wasn’t the reason Brianne couldn’t sleep in the simple pine bed. Her nose and hands and feet were cold. To distract herself, she thought back to the memory of Jed’s kiss. Why had she let it happen? Why hadn’t she backed away? He’d given her time. But she’d been overcome by curiosity, by a sense of adventure she’d never experienced before.

      The howl of the wind sounded through the window, and she shivered.

      There was a knock on the door to her room, then it opened. “Brianne?”

      She recognized Jed’s voice immediately. “I’m awake.”

      When he came into the room dressed in a white T-shirt with gray sweatpants, he was carrying a flashlight. “Now our power is out, too. The temperature in the house has dropped. Do you want to come down and sleep on the sofa by the fire?”

      “What about your dad?”

      “He’s sound asleep and snoring. I laid a down-filled quilt over him and that should do the trick. But we only have one of those.”

      “What time is it?” she asked, unable to see her watch.

      “It’s three. If you get warm, you could still catch a couple of hours of sleep before you have to get up.”

      “All right.” Suddenly she realized the predicament she was in. “Can you turn around while I dress?” She’d crawled under the covers in her slip. Her sweater and skirt lay over the chair.

      His gaze went to the clothes and then back to her. “I’d go on down, but you’re going to need the flashlight. Just tell me when you’re finished.” Then he turned and faced the door.

      Brushing her tousled curls off her forehead, Brianne realized her hair was an absolute mess. But without her comb, brush and curling iron she really couldn’t do anything about that. Quickly, she got out of bed, slipped on her skirt and sweater. “Ready,” she told him, not feeling ready at all.

      With a glance over his shoulder, he beamed the flashlight out in the hall. “I have an oil lamp lit downstairs, but I don’t want you to fall, so take your time. The steps are narrow.”

      Jed waited for her at the top of the stairs and descended slowly. She almost bumped into him when he stopped at the bottom. As he turned, his face was very close to hers. “Do you need anything before we get settled?”

      I need to be held in your arms, she thought illogically, then dismissed the irrational longing. Jed was her boss! And hadn’t she learned that getting close to anyone eventually hurt?

      “No. I’m fine,” she managed to answer. She could see the muscles under his T-shirt. Black hair curled in the vee. Awareness zipped between them, and she swallowed hard.

      He cleared his throat and motioned toward the living room. “You take the sofa. I’ll sleep in the recliner.”

      A blanket had been tossed on the sofa, along with a pillow. But she couldn’t keep her eyes off of Jed as he sank into the recliner and raised the leg rest, stretching out his long limbs on top of it.

      Wind blew against the house, causing the flames in the fireplace to crackle and leap.