Apparently, she hears my thoughts all the way at her house because my phone lights up on my nightstand and it’s her.

  I answer on the second ring, a smile on my face and in my voice.

  “Bailey.”

  “Hey,” she says, sounding uneasy. “I know it’s late, but I was wondering if you had an update about June?”

  “She was recovering well before I left. I’ll head back over first thing in the morning.”

  “Oh,” she says with an interested lilt to her voice. “That’s awesome. Any signs of movement in her legs?”

  “Not yet.”

  There’s a break in conversation, the transition between the reason she called and the reason we’re both still lingering on the phone.

  “Y’know, today was the last surgery we have before the holiday break,” she offers, and just like that, she’s saying, I don’t want to hang up just yet. Talk to me. “Ten days with no surgeries—how will you occupy yourself?”

  I hum. “I’ll still be up at the hospital most of the time.”

  She laughs. “Seriously? You need a break more than anyone. I sort of assumed you’d be taking a beach vacation or something.”

  I smile ruefully. “I’m not really the beach vacation kind of guy. I hate sand.”

  She finds that incredibly funny. “Actually, that doesn’t surprise me in the least. Now that you mention it, I can’t really imagine you taking any sort of vacation—ever.”

  “I have,” I protest. “Just not in the last decade.”

  “Well, you’ll at least make it to the Christmas party tomorrow night, won’t you?”

  “I hadn’t thought about it.”

  I don’t usually go. Forced small talk with my colleagues and their spouses isn’t really my thing.

  “Well, you should. I have a present for you,” she says, her voice taking on a slightly seductive edge, though it could just be wishful thinking on my part.

  “Can’t you just bring it to the hospital?”

  “Maybe I’m trying to bribe you into showing up to the party,” she quips.

  Suddenly, I’ve had enough of this dancing around one another, this will-we, won’t-we bullshit game Bailey insists we play.

  “What does it matter if I’m there or not?” I push, desperate for honesty.

  “It won’t be the same without you.”

  I tug my hand through my hair and resist a groan. It feels like she’s being a tease, pushing me away at the same time she’s reeling me in, but Bailey isn’t like that. She’s genuinely being nice, inviting me to the party because she wants me there. Simple as that.

  “I’ll think about it,” I promise, swallowing my anger. “Are you bringing a date?”

  “No,” she answers quickly. “Wait, are you?”

  I laugh and decide on a whim that I’m tired of pretending. She asked the question, she’s going to get the truth. “No, I’m not bringing a date. The only woman I want to ask had me sign a Word doc instructing me to stay away from her.”

  I know I should keep pretending I don’t want her, that arm’s length is my preferred proximity, but I can’t. Every day I’m forced to work alongside her and every day she digs a little more under my skin, carving into me so deep I couldn’t get rid of her if I tried.

  “Are you referring to our legally binding contract?” she teases.

  I don’t laugh. In fact, I nearly growl. “I’m done, Bailey. I’m not abiding by that stupid list of demands anymore. Do you hear that? It’s the sound of me tearing that ‘contract’ in two.”

  She stays silent, no doubt contemplating the weight of my words.

  I smirk as I continue, “I’ll come to that party tomorrow night. In fact, I’m looking forward to it now. Don’t forget my gift.”

  Chapter 25

  BAILEY

  It’s snowing outside. Big, fat flakes drop from the sky and accumulate on the ground, turning the parking lot into a winter wonderland. It’s fitting considering the interior of the restaurant NEMC rented out has been transformed to match. The party planners spared no expense. There are little Christmas vignettes in every corner of the room, fake deer and Christmas trees and those big, wrapped presents with nothing inside of them. There’s enough food and drink to fill us all ten times over. The heads of the hospital might have protested about spending money on June’s surgery, but they apparently have no qualms about dishing out big bucks for an event like this.

  I shake away the thought and try to get into a more festive mood. There are only a few more days until Christmas! I have paid time off for the next ten days! SANTA IS COMING!

  It’s no use though. There’s no room for cheer when I’m on high alert, scanning the room every few minutes on the off chance Matt arrived while I wasn’t looking. The event is even more crowded than Dr. Lopez’s retirement party. Every surgeon in the entire hospital is here with his or her family. Kids run around, high on sugar and the fact that they don’t have school in the morning. I’m standing in a group with Megan and Erika and their dates. I don’t have a date. Well, I have Josie. I glance over and find her exactly where I left her: sitting at a table by herself, reading a book and double-fisting bacon-wrapped shrimp. I watch as a cute boy her age—Dr. Richard’s son, if I’m not mistaken—walks over to try to engage her in conversation and she waves him away, not bothering to look up from her book. For my sake, I’m glad she’s currently choosing Harry Potter over boys. I’m not quite ready to play the role of angry, shotgun-toting father.

  “No date tonight, Bailey?” Erika asks.

  How dare she call me out in front of the whole group?!

  For all she knows, I’m actually a loveless loser and not just pining after my angry, hot boss.

  “Nope,” I reply, affecting a casual tone. “Just my sister.”

  They glance over in time to see her steal yet another bacon-wrapped shrimp off a passing tray. Boy are we related or what?

  “What about that blond guy from Smooth Tony’s?” Megan asks, tilting her head. “He was cute and he seemed into you. Did anything happen with that?”

  Ha. Cooper. Boy are they behind. I’d need a million years to catch them up so I just shake my head and pretend I’m disappointed when I reply, “Nah, didn’t really pan out. He wasn’t ready for a relationship.”

  It’s as good a lie as any and as they throw me sympathetic frowns, I chance another glance at the door, my heart leaping when I catch movement. Unfortunately, it’s only Dr. Goddard and his wife, followed by three blond children walking in perfect unison. Though adorable, they’re stuffed into uncomfortable-looking Christmas outfits that coordinate perfectly with Dr. Goddard’s suit and his wife’s dress. The whole effect is a little ridiculous.

  “So how has it been working with Dr. Russell?” Megan asks, aiming a conspiratorial smile at Erika before continuing, “I’ll be honest, we didn’t think you’d last this long.”

  Surely there’s something better to talk about. Maybe I should have launched into that discussion about Cooper after all. It’s better than having to look them in the eye and make up some phony reply about how, Actually, it’s not so bad guys. Ha ha. Yup, I just had to tough it out for the first few weeks and now we’ve really hit our stride.

  Truthfully, that no-good jerk of a surgeon has stolen my heart and he’s about to walk through the door of this restaurant any minute and I’m not ready to face him. That phone call last night left my nerves frayed.

  “Do you hear that? It’s the sound of me tearing that ‘contract’ in two.”

  Ha! Well too bad, buddy, because I made copies!

  I can still hear the determination in his voice. He really thinks I’m just going to throw caution to the wind and give in to this…this lust that’s been building inside me for the last few weeks.

  I’m considering all of this, of course, as he arrives. One minute, the doorway is empty, and the next, Matt is striding through with all the confidence of a king. My entire body stiffens as I take him in from head to toe. He’s impossible to miss in a tailored black suit. No tie. His tan complexion stands out against his crisp white shirt. His slightly curly hair is inky black and thick. Heads turn in his direction, conversation halts around him. It’s as if God himself is making a debut at the party.

  Before June’s surgery, his reputation was already larger than life. Now, it’s completely out of control. Surgeons from every floor of the hospital rush over to greet him and shake his hand. They clap him on the shoulder and act as if they’re the best of friends.

  He smiles slightly and makes a good show of greeting everyone, but his eyes scan the room looking for…me.

  HE’S LOOKING FOR ME.

  I panic and turn back to the group, suddenly 100% positive I need to get the hell out of here.

  I shouldn’t have come tonight.

  My nerves are shot.

  He’s a dream in that black suit, and Josie talked me into wearing this silky, short dress that seemed daring and sophisticated back at home but now just seems downright inappropriate. I look around for a jacket and home in on Erika’s date. He’s a big guy, wide around the middle—his jacket would cover me and then some.

  “Hey, bud.” I say bud because I was distracted while he was introducing himself. “Could I borrow that jacket?”

  He crosses his arms protectively over his chest and then replies weakly, “I’m actually kind of chilly.”

  What kind of men are we raising in this country?!

  I have half a mind to just rip it off him, but I don’t want to cause a scene. In fact, I want to do the exact opposite. I want to slink out of this party without Matt noticing me and run all the way home.

  On a whim, I grab a flute of champagne from a passing waiter, down it in one long sip, and then hand it back. The group stares at me as I wipe the back of my hand across my mouth.

  The waiter is deeply impressed with my abilities. “Um, would you like another glass, ma’am?”

  I want every flute on his tray, but that won’t solve my problem. I shake my head and thank him before addressing the group.

  “Listen, guys, I’m not feeling well all of a sudden—”

  “Probably because you just shot-gunned champagne like you were at a frat party,” Erika cuts in, deeply suspicious of my weird behavior.

  I wave away her insane suggestion. “No. I was feeling bad before that.”

  “What hurts?” Megan asks, concern oozing from her pores. She’s way more gullible than Erika, clearly.

  “My head.” That’s not enough to convince Erika, so I add, “And my…” I suddenly can’t think of a single part of the human body. “Aaarm? Yes, my arm.” I cradle it against my chest. “I’m going to head home. Merry Christmas, everyone!”

  I turn and scan the party for the best route. There’s only one entrance and Matt’s blocking it, but I’m hoping by the time I reach Josie, one of his many admirers will have drawn him farther into the room and I’ll sneak out without him even knowing I was here. It’s the only option I have. I move quickly, like I’m on a stealth mission. I push my hair over my left shoulder and use it like a curtain to shield my face on the off chance Matt looks in my direction.

  It takes me forever to reach Josie because I’m forced to duck behind Christmas trees or bend down to adjust my heels just to throw him off my scent. I nearly do a barrel roll before I think better of it.

  “Josie!” I hiss as I rush forward and slam her book closed. “Hurry. We have to go.”

  She groans. “Are you kidding?! You just bent my page! And I didn’t have a bookmark in there. It’ll take me forever to find my place.”

  “I’m sorry. I really am.” I round the table and hook my hands under her arms to haul her to her feet. “C’mon, I’ll buy you another book—ten books. Just—”

  A hand wraps around my bicep and I jump out of my skin.

  “Bailey,” Matt says right beside my ear, cool and unaffected. “Not running off already, I hope?”

  Josie jerks away from me to reclaim her seat and Matt uses his grip on my arm to spin me around slowly. I keep my gaze carefully pinned on his chest. My cheeks burn. The amusement in his tone makes it clear he saw every bit of that little charade. I’m more glad than ever I didn’t attempt that barrel roll.

  I gulp and nod. “I am. You see, my arm is—” I look down at my useless, perfectly functioning arm. “Injured.”

  It sounds pitiful even to my own ears.

  He laughs acerbically then bends down to address my sister. “Josie, if you’ll excuse us, I need to have a word with your sister.”

  “No she will not ex—”

  Josie yanks her book back to her side of the table and starts to flip through it to find her page, unbothered by Matt’s grip on my arm. “You’re excused.”

  Choosing Harry Potter over her own flesh and blood?! I would do the same, but how dare she?

  Matt keeps his hand on my arm as he leads me away from the table and over to a corner of the room partially concealed by one of the more over-the-top holiday scenes. Massive deer leap through the air, frolicking around white-flocked Christmas trees. I ask Matt if he likes the decorations and his eyes narrow on me.

  Oh, I see. The pleasantries are gone now that we’re all alone.

  “Did you or did you not ask me to come tonight?” he asks, tone deceptively calm.

  I swallow and look away. “I did.”

  “So then why were you about to leave?”

  I’m not ready to admit the truth—or rather, I’m too embarrassed.

  When I don’t speak, his grip on my arm loosens and then he releases me. Disappointment hits me square in the chest.

  “I won’t do this, Bailey. I won’t chase you. I told you last night I’m done with the contract. If that scares you, I’m going to listen and respect that. Do you understand? I won’t force my way into your heart.”

  “‘Force your way into my heart?’” I echo back at him, sounding incredulous. My gaze clashes with his in outrage. “You think you still need to force your way in? You’re there, Matt! In every damn nook and cranny. That’s why I’m running! That’s why I drew up that silly contract!”

  He reaches for my hand and I don’t realize I’m trembling until I feel how steady his grip is on me.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I can’t be any clearer.”

  He laughs, his face betraying every ounce of his elation. I’ve never seen him so breathtakingly handsome. “Well you’ll have to be because I don’t want any more misunderstandings.”

  My eyebrows pinch together. “Do you honestly expect me to declare my feelings for you here of all places? That deer is following me with its eyes. Everyone in this room is looking at us right now. They saw you drag me over here like a caveman, and I’m sure they’re waiting for something to happen, a kiss—or a slap, more like.”

  “Out of the two, I know which one I’d prefer,” he replies coolly, unbothered by the idea of everyone watching us. I suppose in some ways, he’s used to it.

  I, however, am not.

  Matt steps forward and threads his fingers through mine. The gesture is intimate. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears. My stomach quivers as his gaze falls heavy on my mouth. He’s going to kiss me right here in front of everyone! He’ll do it! And that’s the only reason I force him to follow me down the hallway just to our right and drag him through the first door I see.

  It’s a bathroom. Good! I lock the door and whirl around to face him, finger poking his big, manly chest. Admittedly, it probably hurts me more than it hurts him, but he needs to know I’m serious.

  “You were going to kiss me out there!” I say, outraged. “In front of everyone!”

  His hand reaches out and he fists the front of my dress, using the silky material as a means to pull me toward him. I stumble over my heels and collide into him. He’s a rock, unmoving even when my full weight knocks into him. His hands at my waist keep me steady. His muscular thighs press against mine. My hands are on his chest, palms flat so I feel every breath, every heavy thump of his racing heart. His fingers twist the fabric of my dress and the silk brushes against my thigh, hiking up a few more inches so my bare legs brush against his suit pants.

  I force myself to glance up at the tall, daunting man poised to wreck my world. His dark brows are tugged together. His blue eyes hold back a storm of emotion as he stares searchingly into mine, trying to find the answer to some unspoken question.

  I’m shaking as if he has me on the edge of a cliff. One single finger could push me over. I’d tumble down, and right now, there’s no way to know what awaits me at the bottom. Pain, love, heartache, elation—each is as likely as the last and I can’t willingly do this to myself. I can’t give myself over to a man who has the power to upend my life so easily.

  I make a small move to step away at the exact moment he bends his head and captures my mouth in an endless, passionate kiss. His strong grip keeps me there, pressed against him. I feel drugged as he kisses me again and again, his hands shifting higher, stroking and teasing and caressing everywhere within his reach. His thumb curves around my ribs and brushes the very edge of my breasts through my dress. His mouth slants over mine and I shudder. It’s seduction, pure and simple. I’m helpless and frozen, using all of my wits just to stay standing, let alone kiss him back. My hands haven’t moved from his chest. I’ve forgotten how to execute the simple act of breathing.

  He pulls back and his hand wraps around my chin so he can lift my face toward his. His beautiful features are masked by desperate need. It’s nearly enough to break my heart when his lips press against my temple, my cheek, the delicate groove just below my ear. My eyes are pinched closed as tingles ricochet down my spine.

  “Kiss me,” he pleads, his hands sliding around me, hauling me up against him so there’s no space left between us. “Bailey…kiss me.”

  The words are as effective as a puppeteer’s strings. The longing in his tone breaks the final chains straining around my heart. His parted lips find mine again and this time, I’m not frozen. I’m a woman taking exactly what she wants. I moan with hot need, tangling one hand in the thick hair at the base of his neck at the same moment my mouth opens and my tongue teases his. I kiss him with a hurried fervor, suddenly too anxious for this. I kiss him with all the desire I’ve foolishly tried to repress, every bit of longing that’s built up over the last few weeks.