Dr. Irresistible. Elizabeth Bevarly

Not just that, but it ricocheted off every other container in its way, and sent nearly half of them tumbling over the edge of the table before falling and spilling open itself.

      Yep, springerlies for sure, Seth thought as they went skittering across the floor. Broken springerlies now. Broken springerlies with, he noted further, black, burned-to-a-crisp bottoms.

      What had her parents been thinking when they named her Prudence?

      She didn’t even seem to notice what had happened, so automatic were her gestures as she went to clean up the mess. Then again, Seth thought, this was pretty much standard procedure for her, from what he’d witnessed in the past, so it was really no surprise that she found this to be no surprise.

      “I’m sorry I’m so late,” she said as she collected crushed cookies from the floor, speaking, evidently, to both nobody and everybody in the room. “Tanner was so into the separation thing today. I didn’t think I’d ever get away from the day-care center.”

      Tanner, Seth knew, was Prudence’s nine-month-old son, whose acquaintance he had first made when the lad was all of ten hours old. Although Seth worked in neurology, he often spent his breaks and lunch hours in the hospital nursery, not just to cozy up to the neonatal nurses—who were notoriously, in a word, hot—but also to cozy up to their infant charges—who were notoriously, in a word, adorable.

      To put it mildly, Seth had a real soft spot for kids. Someday he hoped to have one or two—or ten—of his own. And now, at the ripe old age of thirty-three, he was beginning to think seriously about the whole family thing. The problem was, biologically speaking, anyway, he himself didn’t have all the necessary equipment for creating a family. In addition to a womb, he was going to need a second set of chromosomes for everything to work out the way it was supposed to work out. And so far he just hadn’t met the right second set of chromosomes. Or the right womb, for that matter.

      And lately he was beginning to think he never would.

      For some reason that thought sent his gaze bouncing from the top half of Prudence’s scrubs to the bottom half, which was currently sticking out from beneath the table as she reached for the last of the broken cookies. Yep. Nice curves indeed. Nice, round, lush, fertile curves, he couldn’t help but notice. And he’d seen her with her son on a number of occasions. A more loving woman didn’t exist anywhere in this universe.

      Well, loving toward her son, at any rate, he amended. Where men were concerned, however, Prudence was considerably more…prudent. These days, at least. There had been a time, however, when… Well. Tanner was a pretty good indicator of Prudence’s past where men were concerned. Still, she seemed to have learned her lesson there. Because she definitely kept her distance from the male half of the population these days. Much to Seth’s unrelenting frustration.

      “So the little tike was out of sorts today was he?” Seth asked as he approached her, knowing beforehand that she would respond to his query with a brittle smile.

      Ah. Bingo. There it was now. As she backed herself out from under the table, she threw that smile over her shoulder at him, and wham. It hit its mark perfectly. Then there was another wham, but this time it was Prudence’s head hitting the edge of the table as she tried to rise to standing.

      “Ow,” Seth said. “That had to hurt.” Again, what had her parents been thinking?

      Since the observation really required no comment, Prudence offered none. Instead, she finally pushed herself to standing and rubbed lightly at the crown of her head. But all she said was, “Yes. Tanner was out of sorts today. But it’s not at all unusual for babies of nine months to go through separation anxiety like that,” she added in the voice of experience.

      “I don’t doubt it for a moment,” Seth concurred jovially. “It’s not unusual for men of thirty-three, either.” There. Let her make what she would of that.

      What she made, he noted, was a funny little squinting type of face, an expression that made him smile. God, she was cute. And she really did have a nice neck. But she said nothing to demand clarification for his comment. Which was just as well, because he wasn’t sure he wanted to clarify it—either to her, or to himself.

      So instead he returned his attention to the heart-shaped cake on the table before him. Fine. He had the last scalpel available. It was nice to know he was wanted for some- thing. Impulsively he decided that he would cut the cake—and idly ogle Prudence—stay long enough to consume a piece himself—and idly ogle Prudence—then he’d go home to lick his wounds—and idly fantasize about Prudence.

      Carefully he bisected the confection from north to south and east to west, not worrying about whether the sizes were consistent. Everyone present in the break room was a medical professional, he reminded himself. Surely they could manage these small discrepancies without resorting to fisticuffs.

      After completing his task, Seth filled a plate with several of the homemade delicacies that constituted the celebratory buffet, then wasn’t much surprised to find himself standing near—gosh, what do you know?—Prudence.

      He always gravitated toward her, no matter where either of them happened to be. It was some kind of strange torture game he played with himself. He didn’t for a moment understand his fascination with her, nor did he pursue it these days—not with any real enthusiasm. Not in any way that she would notice, at any rate. Nor in any way that anyone else would notice, either, for that matter.

      At least, he hoped nobody else noticed. It would be so embarrassing to be thought of as pathetic. Even if pathetic was exactly the way he felt around Prudence Holloway. Even if pathetic was how he was beginning to think he was destined to be.

      Though Seth never lacked for feminine companionship—well, never except today, he reminded himself morosely—the companionship with which he usually found himself generally left him reluctant to continue the relationship for very long. These days it seemed as though his temporary relationships were growing more and more temporary and he was feeling less and less satisfaction from them. Why that might be he couldn’t possibly say. But there was no question that it was getting harder and harder to feel fulfilled in his personal life.

      Not to be misconstrued, however—Seth did like women, very much. All women, in fact. And until he’d met Prudence, until he’d spent time with her—most of it indulging in good-natured sparring—he’d been perfectly content with the variety of his social life. But lately, for…oh, about the past two years…the variety he had once found so enjoyable was somehow beginning to lose its appeal.

      Living his life day by day, and woman by woman, had all been well and good for a while—actually, it had been all very good—but there was a restlessness rising in Seth of late that he would just as soon quell. Mainly because he suspected that it was a restlessness born of the desire to settle down. And settling down wouldn’t be a problem, except for the fact that he didn’t think he could manage it. He was socially gregarious by nature, and he had the attention span of a rabid badger. He wasn’t sure he’d be good in a family situation, in spite of his affinity for children. He just wasn’t a one-woman man.

      He reminded himself that he was only thirty-three, that he still had plenty of years left before he was so doddering that he wouldn’t be able to bounce a baby on his knee. Then he remembered that at thirty-three most men were at least attached to someone special. Hell, even his best friend, Reed Atchison, whom Seth had never thought to see attached, had recently married. Now he and his wife, Mindy, were expecting the arrival of their first child any minute.

      Without meaning to, Seth let his gaze wander over to Prudence once again. She really was lovely, he thought. And she was a warm, witty, gentle woman—with others, at any rate, in spite of her prickliness where he was concerned. He just wished he could understand why she wanted nothing to do with him. And then for some reason—probably because after the day he’d had he was spoiling for a fight—Seth decided to find out.

      “So, Prudence,” he began, heedless of the fact that he was interrupting her conversation with another nurse. “You’re pulling second shift on a Friday. How did that happen? Won’t it play havoc with your plans for a romantic evening?”