Marrying Dr Maverick

“You’re still wet. You’ll catch cold.”

He laughed. “Everyone knows you don’t catch cold from the cold. I promise, this will be almost painless, Jazzy. I just want to make sure you’re not really hurt.”

Okay, so they were going to have to get this over with because he was persistent and stubborn. In a family as large as hers, she’d learned there was no point in arguing.

Once inside Strickland’s, they climbed the stairs. Jazzy took out her key and opened her door. She’d already told Dean that Brooks was “safe,” so why was she hesitating in letting him into her room?

Simple. He was half dry, half wet, and all imposing male.

Her room was small and the nice thing about it was it had a bathroom of its own. Standing by the single bed, Jazzy was very aware of it as Brooks came into the room and stood before her.

“I left the door open,” he said. “I don’t want you to think I have an ulterior motive.”

He had left it open about six inches, and she realized how thoughtful it was of him to do that. She simply had to think about him as a doctor right now.

“Take your jacket off,” he said gently.

At first her fingers fumbled with the zipper. Her nervousness was stupid. She had nothing to be nervous about. But unzipping her jacket, she felt as if she were letting him into her life in a different way. She shrugged out of it and hung it over the bed post. He took a step closer to her, and she suddenly felt as if she couldn’t breathe. Her gaze locked to his for a few seconds, but then he directed his focus to her shoulder and reached out to touch it.

She thought she’d prepared herself. She thought this would be clinical.

The exam was clinical on his part as he kneaded around the joint and asked, “Does that hurt?”

“Some,” she managed to say.

“Don’t soft pedal it if it does.”

“It’s not that bad. Really.”

As he felt along the back of her shoulder, she winced. His fingertips massaged the spot and she found that didn’t hurt but felt good.

“You got bumped around and might have black-and-blue marks tomorrow. Put some ice on it for the first twenty-four hours, ten minutes on, half hour off.”

“Yes, Doctor,” she said with a slight smile.

His fingers stopped moving. His eyes found hers. The room seemed to spin.

No, not really. Couldn’t be. But gazing into Brooks’s eyes was like getting lost in forever. His hand was on her back now as he leaned a little closer. She felt herself swaying toward him.

But then he straightened. “Take it easy for the rest of the day.”

Feeling reality hitting her straight in the face, she asked, “When do I officially start work for you?”

“Let’s consider tomorrow the starting date. I’ve been talking to a real-estate agent and she’ll have a list of places for me to look at. Would you like to go along to do that?”

“You bet.”

“Unless you don’t feel well.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“Famous last words.” He went to the door. “Ice the shoulder.”

As he opened the door and went into the hall, she called after him, “Get out of those wet jeans.”

She thought she heard a chuckle as he strode away from her room. She remembered his shirtless upper body. She remembered the feel of his fingers on her shoulder. She remembered the way his smile made her feel.

Working for Brooks Smith could be the biggest mistake she’d made...lately.

Chapter Four

The sun shone brightly in the brilliant turquoise sky as Brooks let himself into Strickland’s Saturday morning, coffee and donuts in his hands. He’d found a property he wanted to show to Jazzy. She’d said yesterday she’d be ready anytime he was, but he hadn’t wanted to waste her time, so he’d taken a look at three properties early this morning. He was confident one of them would work, but he wanted to see what she thought.

At the front desk, he greeted Melba who was shuffling papers into a file folder. She eyed the bag from Daisy’s Donuts. “Jazzy didn’t come down to breakfast,” she told him. “Maybe she’ll eat some of what you brought her.”

He supposed Melba had seen him with Jazzy the past two days. The older woman watched over her guests with an eagle eye.

He climbed the stairs, glad he’d put lids on the coffee cups or he’d have sloshed it all over the box and donuts. He was just eager to show Jazzy the property, that was all.

But deep down, he knew the reason for his eagerness was more than that. When he brought Jazzy back here yesterday and examined her shoulder, he’d had to remind himself over and over again that it was a clinical examination. But he could vividly remember how she’d felt under his fingertips, the look in her eyes. They were attracted to each other and fighting it. Just how difficult was it going to be to work together?

Not too difficult, he hoped. They wouldn’t have time for attraction, not if they were going to get a clinic up and running. So the sooner they looked at the property and got started, the better. It was silly, really, but he couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else. Jazzy was so positive and upbeat, so excited about new things. She understood the dedication it took to take care of animals, and she even admired it. Unlike Lynnette. She was so different from Lynnette. Jazzy wouldn’t do anything half-measure. Dating Jazzy could be an unrivaled experience. More than dating her could be...

He thought about his dad’s ultimatum. Marriage would be a solution. Yet after his experience with Lynnette, he couldn’t even think about it.

It was a shame he couldn’t erase the shadows of the past from his memory bank.

When he reached Jazzy’s door, he shuffled the box into one arm and rapped. She didn’t answer. Could she have gone out? Was that why she hadn’t appeared at breakfast?

He rapped again. “Jazzy?” he called. “Are you in there?”

To his relief, he heard movement inside. Then Jazzy was opening the door, looking as if she’d just awakened from a deep sleep. Her blond hair was mussed around her face and she’d pushed her bangs to one side. She was wearing a raspberry-colored nightgown and robe over it, but she hadn’t belted the robe and the lapels lay provocatively over her breasts.

He quickly raised his gaze to hers. “Are you okay?”

She seemed to come fully awake. Now she belted her robe, cinching it at her very slim waist. That wasn’t a whole lot better, but she didn’t know that. He’d just have to package his lusty thoughts away in mothballs. He was concerned about her and that concern must have shown.

“Tell me the truth, Jazzy.” He didn’t want some varnished description of how she was feeling.

“Can I tell you over donuts and coffee?” she asked. “That really smells good.”

If she wanted coffee and was hungry, she had to be okay, right?

Without a second thought, he stepped inside the room. She moved over to the nightstand, clearing it of books and lotion. She set them on the small dresser.

After he settled the box on the nightstand, he pulled over the ladder-back chair while she curled up cross-legged on the bed. She was so natural...so unaffected...so pretty.

He opened the box of donuts, pulled out a chocolate-glazed one and handed it to her. “Tell me.”