The Hotshot Read online

  There was only one man whose respect and admiration she courted. The one man who never showed his emotions, never told her he loved her.

  Her father, Dr. Niles Hunter. The most renowned plastic surgeon in the Southwest. The same man who’d divorced Gracie when Janet was three years old and sick with scarlet fever. The same man who’d shunned her medical school graduation and refused to give her a recommendation for her pediatric fellowship, saying he made a policy of not endorsing anyone. She didn’t expect preferential treatment, did she?

  Janet shook her head and hurried through the physicians’ entrance and down the hallway to the conference room. She smiled at the other eight doctors seated around the table. There were two empty chairs.

  Good. She wasn’t the last to arrive.

  “Am I late?” she asked.

  “Not at all,” Dr. Peter Jackson, the facility director, said. “We’re still waiting for Dr. Gregory.”

  Dr. Gage Gregory. The other new doctor.

  Janet had never met Dr. Gregory, and while she was unimpressed with his Hollywood connections, she admired the tremendous contributions he’d made to medicine at such a young age, pioneering some revolutionary technique. She believed anyone with that kind of work ethic deserved applause.

  “There is something we’ve been meaning to discuss with you.” Dr. Jackson nodded at her.

  “Yes?” She leaned forward.

  “We just found out the city zoning committee approved out expansion. During the next seven to eight months, the construction crew will tear out the south wall, leaving us short an office and three exam rooms. As a result, Dr. Hunter, you and Dr. Gregory, being our newest members, will share an office.”

  Share an office? For seven or eight months? Janet cringed. She liked her privacy and her space. But what choice did she have? She wanted to be a team player.

  “No problem,” she said.

  “I’m glad to hear you say that. Your temporary quarters are cramped, but I’m certain you’re going to love working with Dr. Gregory. He’s very energetic and full of innovative ideas.”

  “I’m sure he is.” She smiled brightly.

  “Sorry I’m late. I had an unavoidable delay. It won’t happen again,” a rich masculine voice interrupted from the doorway.

  Stunned, Janet watched the tall, muscular man who sauntered confidently into the conference room as if he owned the entire world.

  Under his white lab jacket, he dressed in a wild Hawaiian print shirt, chinos, and a pair of black motorcycle boots. He didn’t seem to care one fig that it wasn’t proper business attire. His sandy hair curled attractively around his ears. He could just as easily have been on a tropical beach as in a pediatric practice. He looked cooler than cool and sexier than any midnight fantasy.

  A man at ease in his own skin.

  Then recognition struck as fierce as hot lightning. Dumbfounded, she could only stare. Her new office mate, the renowned Dr. Gage Gregory and her new neighbor, the very strange Naked Terrace Guy, were the same person.

  2

  “Well,” Gage said, some ten minutes later when the meeting had adjourned.

  He and Ms. Doctor Gorgeous Tushy were standing alone in the office they would share for the next several months.

  “Yes?”

  “This is a bit awkward.”

  “A bit?” She crossed her arms over her chest, leaned back against one of the two oak desks jammed into the room, and raised one perfectly arched eyebrow at him.

  Damn. What was it about the woman that made him want to take her into his arms and kiss her into next week?

  “Okay,” he admitted and gave her a grin he hoped was both contrite and captivatingly boyish. The grin that had charmed the pants off more than one willing female. “A lot awkward.”

  She leveled him a measured stare, sizing him up in one cool glance. She didn’t return his smile. Didn’t give an inch.

  He had a sinking feeling she did not like what she saw. So much for his infamous foolproof smile.

  Damn it, but he wanted her to like him. Why her opinion mattered, he couldn’t say. But he wished he had opted for a traditional black suit, white button-down shirt, and conservative tie just to look better in her eyes.

  Except he didn’t own any clothing that fit the bill.

  “Listen,” he said, extending his hand and walking toward her. “We got off on the wrong foot. I would love to start over.”

  She slid along the edge of the desk, backing away from him. The soft material of her tailored gray dress made a gentle whispering noise that caused a curious tightening in his solar plexus.

  “I respect your reputation, Dr. Gregory. I’m certain you’re a fine doctor, but just because I’ve seen you without your pants on doesn’t mean I’m interested in being pals or friends or buddies. This is a work environment. We are colleagues. We will perform together as a team. We will be pleasant to each other, but that’s it.”

  “Ouch.” Gage retracted his extended palm. “Think I got a barb.”

  “I don’t mean to be harsh.” Her tone lightened a little. “But this is my first position, and I want to make a good impression. I’ve worked my entire life for this goal, and I can’t afford any missteps that might jeopardize my future.”

  “I understand completely. You would prefer not to mix business with pleasure.”

  “Nailed it.” She rewarded him with a smile that did amazing things to her face. “I’m glad we got that out of the way.”

  “How do you feel about carpooling?”

  “What?”

  “We do live in the same complex and work in the same office. Wouldn’t it make sense to share a car? Good for the environment and all that.”

  Vehemently, she shook her head.

  Boy, she sure didn’t want to get stuck alone with him.

  “No, that won’t work. What if one of us had to work late? What if one of us has to go to the hospital to see patients? What if there’s an emergency call?”

  “I wouldn’t mind waiting, or even helping you out.”

  “No. It’s a bad idea.”

  That was pretty definitive. Fine, if that’s the way she wanted it, so much the better. Hadn’t he just given himself a lecture on the dangers of getting too involved with people? Maybe the good Dr. Hunter had it right. Keep everyone at arm’s length and don’t depend on anyone but yourself.

  “You think I’m a hard egg, don’t you?” She folded her arms over her chest, but her stare thawed a degree or two.

  He shrugged. “No. Not at all.”

  “Don’t take this the wrong way, but I believe in projecting a professional image. I don’t want you to think me uncaring, but I feel people should keep their business and personal lives separate. Don’t you?”

  “You’re right. Just because we’re neighbors and we’re going to be working very closely together is no reason for us to become friends or even carpool.”

  “That’s correct.” She loosened the reins on her smile. “I’m happy that you see things my way.”

  Whew! His laid-back style rubbed her the wrong way. Probably their rocky beginning hadn’t elevated him in her estimation, either. Still, it grated on his nerves that she didn’t like him. Gage used to being liked and determined to get on her good side.

  “Despite what happened this morning, there’s no reason you should feel vulnerable or embarrassed around me,” he said.

  “I don’t feel vulnerable,” she denied, but the look in her indigo eyes belied the words.

  He scared the hell out of her, Gage realized and grinned inwardly. Now he knew the reason she was erecting roadblocks to their friendship. Not because she didn’t like him, but precisely because she did. What he didn’t know was how he’d scared her.

  “That’s great. We’ll forget all about what happened this morning on your terrace.”

  “Yes.” She nodded. “No one here ever need know about it.”

  Gage dusted his palms together. “Now that we’ve settled that, do you want first dibs on
a desk?”

  “I’ll take this one. If that’s all right with you.” She fingered the desk she was standing beside.

  Bizarrely enough, Gage wished he was that slab of hard wood, wishing those long, tapered fingers were strumming over his skin, wishing he could…

  He glanced innocently at her fingernails—painted a subtle shade of pearl pink—then not so innocent, his gaze traveled up the curve of her arm to her shoulder, down that long neck, to where the clinging fabric of her dress cleaved to the soft swell of her breasts.

  Crash! Bam! Boom!

  Wayward thoughts collided in his head, piling up like patients in the waiting room during flu season.

  Knock it off, Gregory. The lady’s obviously not interested in you for whatever reason, and besides, you’ve got a practice to establish. She’s right to lay down ground rules. It would be disastrous to get involved with your colleague.

  Silence stretched between them for a long moment, then Janet spoke. “May I ask you a personal question?”

  “Sure.”

  “How come you gave up practicing plastic surgery in Hollywood—which I assume was lucrative, not to mention glitzy—to become a pediatrician in Texas of all places?”

  Gage shrugged. He’d grown accustomed to the question. Hardly anyone understood why he’d turned his back on Hollywood and the prestige of his plastic surgery practice. “It’s not as glamorous as it sounds. Staying ‘on’ can get to be a hassle.”

  “Oh, right. Limousines and lobsters, beautiful babes in bikinis, courtside tickets to Lakers’ games... Sounds really heinous.”

  “You want to know the real reason?”

  She nodded.

  “Honestly? It bored me. All that stuff might sound great, and I suppose it is at first. But celebrity gets old quick. I discovered I really enjoyed working with kids. They’re so real, you know. Nothing false or flashy about them.”

  “Yes, I know exactly what you mean. I feel the same way. Children keep us grounded in a way nothing else can.”

  The sound of a throat being cleared drew their attention to the door. A UPS delivery man stood in the archway, a small brown package under one arm, a clipboard under the other.

  “Dr. Hunter?” He looked from Janet to Gage and back again.

  “That’s me.” She stepped forward and signed for the package.

  The UPS man departed. Janet took a seat behind the desk and stared suspiciously at the package.

  “Aren’t you going to open it?” Gage ventured.

  “I’m not sure.”

  “You’re looking at it like you expect the thing to explode.”

  “It’s from my mother.”

  “The mother you suspected of sending a naked man to your terrace?”

  “She’s the only mother I’ve got.” Janet sighed.

  “What about your father? Can’t he corral your mother’s matchmaking?”

  “My parents divorced when I was three. My father has never been a big part of my life. It’s been just Mom and me. I feel obligated to tolerate her little eccentricities.”

  “You’d think after a rocky marriage herself she’d embrace your free and single life.”

  “You’d think,” Janet echoed. “But Gracie is an eternal optimist. Nothing keeps her down for long. Guess that’s why I’m more the half-empty type. Someone has to balance her out.”

  “Would you like me to open the package for you?” he teasingly offered. “Just in case good old Mom shrink-wrapped some poor schmuck and mailed him to you?”

  “No!” She tried to look scandalized, but he could tell she was struggling hard to keep from laughing.

  Ah, now that’s the way he liked to see her.

  “I’m just going to go over here and sit at my desk and review patient charts. If you find you do need help, just give a holler.”

  “Whatever,” Janet muttered, turning her attention to the package and frowning darkly at it.

  What now, Mother?

  Was it a ticket to her favorite play? If she went, would she find herself seated next to some dorky guy with Coke-bottle glasses, a master’s degree in computer science, and a plethora of food allergies? Not that she was judging such a fine fellow, it was just that she herself was on the nerdy side and needed someone more extroverted to balance her out.

  Maybe it would be a membership in a singles club where the members drank too much, touched too freely, and whined about how there were “no good ones left.”

  Was it an invitation to another How-to-Get-Married-in-a-Month seminar stuffed to the rafters with desperate, man-hungry single women?

  She groaned and laid her head on her desk. This shouldn’t be happening. Not today.

  “Just open it.” Gage tossed his Swiss Army knife on her desk. “The suspense is killing me.”

  Much as she hated to admit it, he was right. Might as well get this over with. Janet sat up straight, unsheathed the knife blade, and clipped the string. She peeled back the brown paper wrapping to reveal a small white box. Hands trembling, she removed the lid.

  A small gold pin winked up at her. She lifted it out and held it to the light.

  “What have you got there?” Gage squinted and leaned across his desk for a closer look.

  “Saint Jude.”

  “Ah, what a thoughtful gift. The patron saint of hospitals. Fitting.”

  And lost causes.

  Her mother considered her a lost cause. Was that what this was all about? How encouraging. She searched the box and found a small piece of paper. She unfolded the note. It smelled like lavender. Like her mother. Sweet, flowery, romantic.

  Dearest Darling Daughter,

  I’m sending you this pin to wear to your charity event next Friday night. Nadine told me that if you wear this, you’ll meet the man of your dreams within the week. Please, darling, wear it.

  I want nothing more than to see you happily married with a family of your own.

  Love,

  Grandma-to-be, your Mom

  Disappointment hit like a splash of cold water. No congratulations on her first day as a pediatrician. No words of praise for Janet’s choice of career. No recognition for her hard-won accomplishments.

  Instead, her mother was taking her to task for the things she hadn’t achieved. No husband. No family. For crying out loud, it was a new millennium. When would her mother realize a woman’s reproductive abilities didn’t define her?

  She groaned.

  If Gracie’s astrologer had been in the room, Janet would have cheerfully strangled her. Why her mother believed that woman’s ridiculous predictions, she had no idea. Especially considering how Gracie’s own marriage had ended in disaster. You would think being married to Niles Hunter would have soured her mother on matrimony for good.

  Alas, such was not the case.

  Her mother possessed a starry-eyed belief in fairy-book-quality, happily ever after endings, and nothing could shake her faith.

  Janet did not share her mother’s hopefulness. In fact, she often doubted whether she would ever marry at all. Her career meant everything to her. Physicians didn’t work a normal nine-to-five, forty-hour workweek. How could she adequately raise a child, please a husband, keep a home, and meet her job expectations?

  Not that she didn’t want children of her own.

  She did. Maybe. Some day. Then again, maybe helping thousands of children over the course of her career, versus creating one or two of her own, was her path.

  Her mother would say it didn’t have to be an either-or proposition. That she could have kids now and throw herself fully into her practice when they went to school. But Janet wasn’t so sure about that. Look at her father. He’d been unable to stand the pressure of marriage, medical school, and a sick child, and had bailed. And he was a guy. How much harder would it be for a female doctor to juggle all those demands and still be an exemplary mother?

  “Dr. Hunter...Janet?”

  “Huh?” Janet blinked at Gage and realized she’d been woolgathering, the note and Saint Jude
pin still clutched in her hand.

  “Are you all right?” Gage asked, concern for her etched on his handsome features. “You seem upset.”

  “I’m fine,” she replied brusquely.

  Okay, maybe she was a little too brusque, but the last thing she needed was for him to feel sorry for her. Especially when she had this inexplicable urge to rest her head on those broad shoulders and tell him her darkest secrets, confide in him her deepest fears.

  What in the heck was that about?

  She shoved the pin and note back into the box, avoiding the tender expression in his eyes. She softened her tone a bit. No point taking her frustrations out on him. He wasn’t the cause. “You don’t have to worry about me.”

  At some point he had come from behind his desk to stand beside hers. He reached over to pat her hand. “If you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here.”

  Janet jerked her hand away, stunned by the heat she felt at his touch, shocked by her desire for more. “Thanks, that’s nice of you to offer, but I’ve got plenty of friends I can talk to.”

  He shrugged. “The offer stands.”

  She forced a smile, wondering why her heart thudded and her palms grew sweaty.

  Don’t get involved with a man at work. You can’t get involved with a man at work. It’s out of the question. Forget it. No, no, no.

  He was giving her this sultry brown-eyed stare that seared a path straight through her stomach. In that moment, she flashed back to her condo when that charcoal bag had been the only solid thing between them. Mentally, she embellished on the vision, imagined herself peeling back the charcoal bag and taking a peek at what lay beneath.

  Hubba-hubba-hubba.

  Yikes! Was she nuts?

  Panicked at her reaction, she pushed back her chair and jumped to her feet. “Well, I better get to work. I’ve got patients to see.”

  She had to squeeze past him on her way out the door. Her breasts brushed oh-so-briefly against his shoulder.

  “Sorry.”

  “’Scuse me.”