One Night with the Doctor. Cindy Kirk

up,” was all he said.

      Poppy lifted her gaze. Directly above her head hung a sprig of shiny dark green leaves. Her heart stuttered. “Mistletoe.”

      The word barely made it past her lips when his mouth was on hers. She didn’t know a whole lot about mistletoe other than it seemed that most who found themselves under the leaves settled for a peck on the cheek. Apparently Benedict hadn’t gotten that memo.

      The kiss started out sweet. His lips were firm and warm as they molded against hers. Just when she expected him to pull away, his tongue swept across her lips and she’d opened her mouth to him before she realized what she was doing.

      By then it was too late. Desire, hot and insistent, filled her veins. Her arms wound around his neck and she pulled him closer. By the time the kiss ended, her breath came in short puffs and her body ached for more.

      She took a step back, feeling his gaze on her. Poppy resisted the urge to straighten her dress and smooth her hair. Instead she placed a polite smile on her lips, mumbled something about needing to speak with someone across the room...and bolted.

      Chapter Two

      Poppy ignored him the rest of the evening.

      From across the room Benedict watched the pretty brunette laughing with Lexi Delacourt, a fellow social worker. Even though Poppy had a clear line of vision to him, she didn’t once glance in his direction.

      Benedict rocked back on his heels and blew out a breath.

      “Perfect Poppy is hot.” Tripp Randall, the CEO of Jackson Hole Hospital, spoke over Benedict’s left shoulder.

      “Perfect Poppy?” Benedict raised a brow.

      “That’s what everyone called her back in high school.”

      “Why?”

      “Always looked perfect, I guess.” Tripp shrugged. “You should go after her.”

      “Save your breath, Randall.” The smile he sent the administrator showed a lot of teeth. “I don’t need a matchmaker.”

      Still, Benedict understood the hopeful undertone. Tripp obviously found it encouraging that he was showing interest in Poppy, rather than Tripp’s younger sister, Hailey. The fact that he and Hailey had gone out on several dates in the past six months hadn’t sat well with the hospital administrator.

      Though Tripp considered him a friend, heck they even played on the same basketball league, he was protective of Hailey and believed that, at twenty-six, she was much too young for him.

      Benedict didn’t agree with that assessment but he didn’t care enough to argue the point.

      “That was some kiss you shared under the mistletoe,” Tripp continued in an offhand tone that Benedict guessed was anything but casual.

      “So good—” Benedict pulled his gaze from Poppy and frowned “—she hasn’t spoken to me since.”

      He had to resist the urge to turn back to Poppy, to keep her in sight. But that would make him look desperate, which he most certainly had never been and wasn’t now.

      “How odd.” Tripp brought a glass of champagne to his lips. “From where I stood earlier it appeared she enjoyed locking lips with you.”

      Benedict lifted a shoulder in a slight shrug and studied the dark burgundy liquid in his glass. Poppy’s reaction after the kiss puzzled him, as well. He was positive, or almost positive, he hadn’t misread the interested signals she’d been giving off.

      It wasn’t as if they’d been strangers. He’d originally met Poppy last fall at another of Travis Fisher’s parties. Benedict had enjoyed their brief conversation that night. Enjoyed it so much he found himself hoping their paths would cross again at one of the parties over the holidays. She hadn’t shown her face at any of the events. Until tonight.

      Although he’d arrived late, the moment he spotted Poppy he was glad he’d come. It had been going well until he’d stolen a quick kiss with all the finesse of a schoolboy in the throes of a first crush.

      Benedict raked a hand through his hair and expelled a harsh breath. He had no one to blame for the current situation but himself.

      “Why don’t you ask her to dance again?”

      “Why don’t you mind your own damn business?” Benedict shot back, frustration twisting his gut into a knot.

      “Okay, okay.” Tripp raised his hands, palms out.

      The sound of feminine laughter rang out and Benedict slanted a quick glance in Poppy’s direction. God, she was beautiful. The red dress hugged her body like a second skin.

      “Want to hit the Flying Crane with me?”

      Benedict jerked his attention back to Tripp.

      “On the fourteenth.” The hospital administrator’s eyes took on a hopeful gleam.

      “That’s Valentine’s Day,” Benedict reminded him. “I’m pretty sure you don’t want to spend the evening with me when you could be with her.”

      He gestured with his head to where Tripp’s bride stood speaking with the hostess. Adrianna, or Anna as she’d recently instructed him to call her, was lean and voluptuous with thick dark hair and a face that belonged on a cover of a fashion magazine. She was also a well-respected midwife.

      Tripp shifted his gaze and Benedict experienced a stab of envy at the pride and love in the newly married man’s eyes.

      “Anna will be at the Crane participating in a Torch Singing competition that night.” Tripp snatched a canapé from a passing waiter’s silver tray. “It’s a fund-raiser for Community Safety Net.”

      “A worthy cause.” It was impossible to live in Jackson Hole and not be aware of all the good work being done by the nonprofit. The organization provided shelter and advocacy to victims of domestic violence and sexual assault.

      “I thought you might want to come and help me cheer her on,” Tripp added.

      Since he wasn’t dating anyone special, Benedict hadn’t given much thought to Valentine’s Day. He supposed spending an hour or so at the popular bar knocking back a couple of beers with Tripp while watching Anna sing could be fun. “What exactly is torch singing?”

      Tripp hesitated. His face took on a pained expression. “The contestants sing sentimental love songs—”

      The words came more quickly at Benedict’s snort of laughter.

      “—with a distinctly jazz and blues influence.”

      “I’ll check my calendar,” Benedict told him. “If it turns out I can’t make it, tell Anna I’ll happily make a donation.”

      “Coward.”

      Benedict laughed. He sobered when he saw Winn Ferris swagger over to speak with Poppy and Lexi. His gut tightened as Lexi sauntered off, leaving Poppy alone with the man.

      Last summer, Winn had blown into Jackson Hole as an emissary of GPG. His employer, a large investment firm based in Atlanta, had deep pockets and a mission to develop every inch of Jackson Hole.

      Although Winn pushed and pushed hard, his golf course project had gotten hung up in the environmentally sensitive guidelines passed by the county several years earlier. Those who expected Winn to give up and return to Georgia with his tail between his legs had been mistaken. He’d stayed and continued to fight.

      Benedict liked the business executive, had found him to be intelligent with a good sense of humor. But Winn wasn’t the right guy for Poppy. She needed someone different, someone more...grounded in Jackson Hole.

      Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her flash Winn a brilliant smile. When Winn responded by looping a friendly arm around her shoulders, a knife twisted in Benedict’s gut. Though he’d