Impossible to Resist. Janice Maynard

possible. As he dug into his food, he watched her. Someone had been working overtime when she was conceived. Like an impressionist painting, if you examined every facet of her face and body, she was simply a woman. But put it all together, and Ariel Dane was a masterpiece.

      The eyes alone would have made her attractive, but with her luminous skin, perfect bone structure and lithe body, she was the epitome of feminine grace and beauty. The only flaw he could spot anywhere—if you wanted to call it that—was that her ears were a tiny bit big for her head.

      As if she had read his mind, she covered the side of her face and frowned. “Quit staring at me. I shouldn’t have put my hair up this morning.”

      “What are you talking about? It’s hard not to look. You’re a stunning woman.”

      “On the set, when I was younger, every time I put my hair into a bun or a ponytail, some of the other kids would call me Dumbo.”

      Jacob frowned. The vulnerability and hurt in that one sentence staggered him. Ariel Dane was regarded as one of the most beautiful women in America. But she had no clue. Incredible.

      He finished his last few bites and sat back. “That was fantastic. Thank you, Ariel.”

      She beamed. “Thank my mom. She started teaching me how to cook when I was ten.”

      When he saw that she had cleared her plate, he stood up. “If I’m going to be your pseudo boyfriend, let’s get one thing straight.”

      Apprehension widened her eyes. “What?”

      He bent down and first kissed the shell of one ear and then the other. “Your pretty little ears are perfect. And if anyone thinks differently, you send them to me and I’ll straighten them out.”

      Ariel scooted away from him and stood to gather the plates. “I didn’t know I was hiring Sir Galahad.” The words were flip, but he saw her blink away tears, though she tried to hide her emotion.

      Concern and empathy mingled in his heart. He knew what it was like to be the cynosure of all eyes, to be judged by a different standard. In his final year in med school, it had come out that he was one of the Wolffs. His classmates, many of whom had worked alongside him for years, suddenly regarded him with suspicion and, in a few cases, envy. One angry intern demanded to know why he was taking up a coveted spot in the program when Jacob had more than enough money for a lifetime.

      In the blink of an eye, Jacob was standing on the outside looking in. The profession that had welcomed him into its ranks and made him feel as if he belonged was no longer an oasis of normalcy.

      Everyone knew that Wolffs were a breed all their own. Some sympathized with him for surviving the long-ago tragedy. But for most, Jacob’s connection to the clan meant he was now an alien presence in the world of the hospital.