Hot Docs On Call: His Christmas Wish. Susan Carlisle

was why she was doing better than expected. Because he was distracting her. With threats of mouth-to-mouth.

      Her heart was pounding from fear, not thoughts of Lance’s mouth on hers, not of him taking advantage of her compromised situation.

      George removed the needle from her arm. McKenzie glanced down, saw the sharp tip, and another wave of clamminess hit her.

      She lifted her gaze to Lance’s to tell him she was about to go out.

      “McKenzie, don’t do it.” He snapped his fingers in front of her face, as if that would somehow help. “Stay with me.”

      But out she went.

       CHAPTER THREE

      “GIVE IT A REST, McKenzie. I’m seeing you inside your place.” Lance maneuvered his car into the street McKenzie had indicated he should turn at. He’d wanted to punch her address into his GPS, but she’d refused to do more than say she’d tell him where he could go.

      Yeah, he had no doubt she’d do exactly that and exactly in what direction she’d point him. He suspected it would be hellish hot there, too.

      She crossed her arms. “Just because I passed out, it doesn’t give you permission to run roughshod over me.”

      “Is that what I’m doing?” He glanced toward her. Finally, her color had returned and her cheeks blushed with a rosiness that belied that she’d been as white as a ghost less than an hour before.

      Her lips twisted. “Maybe.”

      “You have had a lot happen tonight, including losing consciousness. Of course I’m concerned and going to make sure you get inside your place, okay?”

      “I think you’re overreacting.”

      “I think you’re wasting your breath trying to convince me to drop you at the curb and drive away.”

      “That’s not what I said for you to do.”

      “No, but the thought of inviting me into your place scares you.”

      “I never said that.”

      “You didn’t have to.”

      “You’re imagining things. I came to your Christmas show.”

      “You brought a friend.” As long as they were bantering she’d stay distracted, wouldn’t think about having passed out.

      “You were part of the show. It wasn’t as if you were going to sit beside me and carry on conversation.”

      He shot a quick glance toward where she sat in the passenger seat with her arms crossed defensively over her chest.

      “Is that what you wanted?” he asked. “For me to be at the dinner table beside you?”

      “If I’d been on a date with you, that’s exactly what I would have expected. Since I was just there watching your show as a friend and someone who wanted to help support a great cause, it’s not a big deal.”

      “I could take you to a Christmas show in Atlanta, McKenzie. We could go to dinner, or to a dinner show.”

      “Why would you do that?”

      “So I could sit beside you and carry on conversation.”

      “I don’t want you to sit beside me and carry on conversation.” She sounded like a petulant child and they both knew it. She was also as cute as all get-out and he couldn’t help but smile.

      “Isn’t that what we’re doing right now?”

      “Right now you are bringing me home, where you can walk me to my front door, and then you can leave.”

      “What if I want to come inside?” He couldn’t help but push, just to see what she’d say. He had no intention of going inside McKenzie’s place, unless it was to be sure she really did make it safely inside.

      Her eyes widened. “We’ve not even been on a date. What makes you think I’d let you stay?”

      “You’re jumping to conclusions, McKenzie. Just because I said I wanted to come inside, it didn’t mean I planned to stay.”

      “Right,” she huffed. She turned to stare out the window.

      “Then again, I guess it’s a given that I want to stay. I think you and I would have a good time.”

      She sighed. “Maybe.”

      “You don’t sound enthused about the prospect.”

      “There is no prospect. You and I are coworkers, nothing more.”

      “You came to my show tonight.”

      “Coworkers can support one another outside work without it meaning anything.”

      “I see how you look at me, McKenzie.”

      McKenzie blinked at the man driving her home. More like driving her crazy.

      How she looked at him?

      “What are you talking about? You’re the one who looks at me as if you’ve not seen a woman in years.”

      “I’m sure I do, but we’re not talking about how I look at you. We’re talking about how you look at me.”

      “I don’t look at you.”

      “Yes, you do.”

      “How do I look at you, Lance?”

      “As if you’ve not seen a man in years.”

      “That’s ridiculous.” She motioned for him to make a right turn.

      “But nonetheless true. And now that I’ve had to do mouth-to-mouth to revive you, you know you’re dying for another go at these lips.” Eyes twinkling, he puckered up and kissed the air.

      “You have such an inflated ego,” she accused, glad to see him pull into her street. A few more minutes and she’d be able to escape him and this conversation she really didn’t want to be having. “Besides, you did not do mouth-to-mouth. I passed out. I didn’t go into respiratory arrest.”

      “Where you are concerned, I didn’t want to take any chances, thus the mouth-to-mouth.” His tone was teasing. “You were unconscious, so you probably don’t recall it. George offered to help out, but I assured him I had things under control.”

      “Right.” She rolled her eyes. She knew 100 percent he’d not taken advantage of her blacking out to perform mouth-to-mouth, even though when she’d come to he’d been leaning over her. She also knew the phlebotomist had offered to do no such thing. “Guess that’s something we really do have in common, because I don’t want to take any chances either. Not with the likes of you, so you’ll understand that there will be no invitations into my house. Not now and not ever.”

      “Not ever?”

      “Probably not.”

      McKenzie really didn’t want Lance walking her to her doorway. Since she’d passed out at the hospital, she supposed she shouldn’t argue as it made logical sense that he’d want to see her safely into her home. That was just a common courtesy really and didn’t mean a thing if she let him. Yet the last thing she wanted was to have him on her door stoop or, even worse, inside her house.

      “You have a nice place,” he praised as he drove his car up into her driveway.

      “It’s dark. You can’t really see much,” she countered.