Luke(25)

But her mother and father, while wonderful, giving people, had never really been the kind she could go running to. They dealt with people who needed them on a daily basis, and in return, expected more of their offspring.

She supposed she could call her sister, but the truth was, Faith didn't even have a contact phone number for her. That had always seemed so independent, so modern, but now she only felt … sad. She could call Shelby, but her friend's answer to loneliness tended to be sex, and she would have wondered what Faith had done wrong to scare off Luke before she'd struck it rich.

Truth was, Faith didn't have any idea what she'd done wrong. Clearly she wasn't good at seducing men, but she'd never claimed to be good. She would have bet the bank that a man—being a slave to his penis of course—would have leapt at her offer of unencumbered physical relations.

Which didn't speak so well of her desirability.

Maybe what had happened tonight—or hadn't happened—was for the best. And honestly, had she really thought she could keep a big, sensual, earthy, edgy man such as Luke sexually satisfied?

Clearly, he'd done them both a favor by not showing up, he really had. Besides, now that she was thinking clearly, she remembered the truth about sex. It was like chocolate, fun in the moment but messy afterwards.

Yep, she was far better off without it.

With a pathetic sigh that didn't fool herself, she moved toward the desk and her stack of bills, determined to keep her chin up. Sure, yes, she'd rather be experiencing an orgasm beneath Luke's hands at this very moment, but that was life. She wouldn't waste time with regrets.

Besides, what she did here in the clinic was important to her, and deserved her time and thought. All she wanted, all she'd ever wanted, was to ease unnecessary suffering. She was doing that now, on a daily basis, and felt extremely proud of it.

And yet … she could admit here, alone with her bunny-slippered feet up on her desk, that maybe, just maybe, she was a little lonely because of it.

"Oh, get over yourself." She sat up straight and opened her bookkeeping program. She started flipping through the bills to figure out which ones she could pay now and which could wait.

Most went into the wait pile.

After only a few minutes of this, as the unpaid pile grew, her head started to swim. Damn it, she wasn't run down, she'd gotten her sleep … why would she be feeling these all-too-unwelcome symptoms of the virus now? Stress? The only stress she felt at the moment came from unfulfilled sexual urges, thank you very much Dr. Luke Walker, aka Dr. Universe, aka best kisser in the free world.

Looking for calm, she lit a few vanilla scented candles, her favorite, and practiced her breathing techniques for a few moments. And okay, maybe she stole a quick little bite of chocolate from her secret stash. Sue her.

Feeling better, she finished up sorting the bills, then sent the files to be paid to the printer. Now all she had to do was load the checks into the printer and she could hit the sack. Again. Sure, she'd have to hit it alone, but she was used to that, very used to it.

Unlocking her bottom drawer, she let out a rather unladylike oath when she saw she'd run out of checks. Figures. For a moment she let the overwhelming feeling of impending doom shake her. Help would be nice. An easing of the burden of running this place alone would be nice. Someone else keeping up the positive feelings for once would be really nice.

But she had her pride. Asking for help wasn't a part of her genetic makeup. Besides, who would she ask? Her employees already gave everything they had. Her family didn't have anything left to give. And there was no one else…

Luke, said a little voice, which she firmly ignored. She knew what he thought of this place, she knew he'd only come back out of a sense of duty. And guilt.

With another loud sigh, she pushed to her feet and headed out of her office. Naturally, the box of new checks was high on the shelf of the storage closet—the same one where Luke had turned her into one puddle of sexual urge earlier, but someone had moved the ladder she needed. She remembered seeing it in the staff room, and grumbling, she moved back down the hallway, still grumbling, into the staff room—

Whoa.

On the other side of the back door was a shadow of a man. She grabbed the handy dandy, trusty baseball bat she kept in there to make her feel strong and brave, and hoisted it to her shoulder, squinting into the room, trying to figure out why that outline seemed so unbearably familiar— "Luke?"

His fist, raised and ready to knock, loosened, and he slowly, still staring at her, waggled his fingers.

Suddenly dizzy again, she put a hand to her head and tried to think. There was only one reason why he was standing there, and that reason had to do with her very bold, very brazen, rebel woman speech she'd given him earlier about having wild sex for two months and then walking away.

Now she stood there, fully lit by the staff room light in an oversize T-shirt with a rip over the collarbone and—oh my God—bunny slippers.

Oh yeah, utterly seductive sex siren. That was her.





* * *





Chapter 7


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Luke didn't know what had driven him back to Faith's. It was late, he was tired, and he had to be at the hospital at the crack of dawn.

Okay, he knew. Faith. She'd driven him here.

Since she simply stood on the other side of the door under the glow of the overhead light, staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights, he had to let out a low laugh directed fully at himself.