Название | In The Market For Love |
---|---|
Автор произведения | Joy Avery |
Жанр | Короткие любовные романы |
Серия | Mills & Boon Kimani |
Издательство | Короткие любовные романы |
Год выпуска | 0 |
isbn | 9781474070010 |
Vivian Moore stood at the nurses’ station inside Raleigh’s Tender Hearts Memorial Hospital, where she’d worked for the past six years, pecking away at the tablet she’d been issued. The newly implemented “convenience” hadn’t turned out to be the inconvenience she’d originally assumed it would be, after all. A point for the home team.
Tuning out the beeping, chiming and chatter swirling around her, she focused on entering the vitals for her last patient of the day. The last patient of the day. The thought made her smile. Unfortunately, instead of going home, climbing into bed and sleeping for three days straight, she had to meet with a persistent real estate developer who couldn’t seem to take no for an answer over the phone. Hopefully, face-to-face will do the trick.
“Vi?”
Only one person ever addressed her by the shortened name—her best friend and fellow ER nurse, Tressa. Vivian turned to see Tressa hurrying toward her, jet-black locks bouncing with each step the petite woman took.
By the expression on Tressa’s soft brown face, she’d experienced the unexplainable. Vivian grew concerned. The last time Tressa donned such a look, she’d been socked in the jaw by a disgruntled patient. Well, she wasn’t crying. That was a good sign, right?
Vivian pushed her tablet aside. “What’s wrong?”
For a second or two, Tressa stood speechless but finally snapped out of her stupor. “I just saw him. And he is fine. I mean, capital-F fine.” Her eyes did a dreamy flutter. “And chocolate. Deliciously chocolate. Mmm.”
By him, Vivian had no doubt she referred to the drop-dead gorgeous man rumored to be roaming the halls earlier. Uninterested had been Vivian’s feeling, but if the man’s looks had the ability to render Tressa speechless—a task not easily accomplished—then maybe he just might be worthy of all the whispers that had burned through the halls like a wildfire.
Though initially apathetic, she had to admit she was a little curious, until an image of her trifling ex flashed in her head. Her jaw tightened at the mere thought of the man—dog—no-good bastard. If he’d taught her anything, it’d been to never trust a handsome face.
Adopting her previous state of disinterest, Vivian returned her attention to the tablet. But Tressa had other plans for her attention, hooking her arm around Vivian’s and venturing down the brightly lit corridor. “Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
“I have work to do, Tress.”
“Trust me, this will be well worth the brief distraction.”
“I don’t—” Vivian stopped abruptly with Tressa directing her attention to the statue of a man several feet away, a cell phone pinned to his ear.
Vivian’s eyes raked over his well-put-together body. Six-three, two twenty-five. A calculated guess, but she would wager she was spot-on. His skin was as smooth and dark as the tempered chocolate used on a sinful-desserts show she’d watched earlier that week. Both stirred her hunger, but for totally different reasons.
“You were saying?”
If Vivian had to guess, Tressa was standing with her arms folded across her chest and a smirk on her face. Unfortunately gravity, the universe, lust—she didn’t know which—wouldn’t allow her to pull her eyes away from him to verify.
The way the navy blue suit pants fit his toned lower half, there could be no disputing they’d been custom tailored just for him. Allowing her eyes to roam a bit higher, she fixed on the mound that bulged at his biceps when he bent his arm to massage his neatly groomed beard with two long fingers.
Even with an obstructed view of what lay beneath the crisp blue-and-white pin-striped shirt, she had a good idea it could make her knees knock. Her gaze trailed over his wide shoulders. Never again would she look at suspenders as an old man’s accessory.
If by some foolish chance she’d forgotten it’d been close to a year since she’d had sex, the way her body was currently responding would have instantly reminded her. A searing heat—having nothing to do with the June temperature—blossomed in her cheeks, flowed down her body and settled right between her legs.
“Oh, my God, did you just moan?”
Tressa’s words snapped Vivian out of her trancelike stare. Vivian shifted toward Tressa. “No—” She cleared her throat. “No, I didn’t moan.” Had she? With her arms across her chest—just as Vivian had guessed—Tressa flashed her a do-I-look-dumb-to-you expression.
Vivian sighed and rolled her eyes away, inadvertently—or