Hot Single Docs: Giving In To Temptation: NYC Angels: Making the Surgeon Smile / NYC Angels: An Explosive Reunion / St Piran's: The Wedding of The Year

“Really well, thank you.”

He nodded then took a long draw on his wine, all the while staring into her eyes. He seemed to hold the wine in his mouth before swallowing, as if savoring the flavor and aroma. Oddly, his sensual care with the wine set off tingles across her shoulders. He soon diverted his stare over her shoulder and, she assumed, through the window to the busy street.

“I’ve got to say, I’m rusty with this sort of thing,” he said.

“What sort of thing?”

“Taking a woman out to eat.”

Dr. John Griffin didn’t date? Even with his gruff shell, that surprised her. He was a good-looking man, a doctor with a gentle heart for his young patients, a...well, she wasn’t sure what else he had to offer, but she’d figured he had a full life.

“Don’t think twice about it. I practically forced you to do it, so...”

He hushed her by putting his hand on top of hers, and with a no-one-forces-me-to-do-anything look stared her down. “I wanted to.”

His touch sent her reeling, and though she thought she might jump out of her seat, she settled and went all quiet, taking in the full significance of his message. Why would he want to spend time with her? She was a country bumpkin, a girl still searching for herself. Sometimes it was better to drop all the questions and just be polite. “Thank you, Doctor.”

He shook his head. “Knock off the ‘doctor’ nonsense. We left that back at Angel’s, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, as she took her first sip of the strongly flavored wine. “Johnny.”

That got an interesting look out of him, one that made her replay her earlier blush.

Midway into her second piece of pizza she’d finished her wine and let John pour her another glass. Another sip or two later, plus more pizza, and she remembered what had really been on her mind since earlier in the week, and why she’d gone to John Griffin’s office in the first place.

“May I run something by you?” she said.

“Sure.” His mouth was full of the best pizza Polly had tasted since she’d gotten to New York.

She took another drink of wine and placed the glass on the sparkling white tablecloth. “I’m in a dilemma about something and don’t know what to do.”

He, swallowed, looking very interested in her line of conversation. “Go on.”

“I’ve had a bad history of men walking all over me and, well, last year I got dumped by a guy back home. I’d really had it with men after that, and part of the reason I moved to New York was to move on and start a whole new life.”

She could read his body language. Shoulders hunched over the table, his chewing had slowed down. He squinted. This was not a topic of conversation he was interested in but she needed to discuss her options with someone, and tonight that someone was John Griffin.

“So, anyway, a couple of days ago I got a call from Greg, the guy who dumped me without warning last year. He’s coming to town and wants to take me out to dinner. He doesn’t mean anything to me any more, but I’m thinking he at least owes me a nice dinner, plus he mentioned something about taking me to a Broadway play, too. I know it may sound superficial of me, but I was thinking I deserved some kind of explanation and maybe he’d tell me what was up last year.”

He sat perfectly still, hands fisted on the table for a few silent seconds, his expression impossible to read. “He wants to screw you,” Johnny said curtly, before taking another drink of wine.

She winced from what felt like a slap in the face. “You don’t think I should see him?”

“That depends if you want to get screwed or not.” His irritated gaze delved into hers, sending a crazy mixed-up message right down her center. Had she just annoyed him? She sat straighter, using the table to help her balance. Did she want to have sex with her ex? Had she even thought about it in the last six months?

No.

Not until the last few days, that was...and Greg wasn’t the face to come to mind when she did think about sex. Oh, cripes, could Dr. Griffin read her mind? Did he have any idea she had the hots for him?

“I’m sorry,” she said, putting her napkin across her plate. “I should never have brought up the subject. It’s just that I don’t have anyone to talk things over with. The lady I rent a room from is probably eighty if she’s a day, and my best friend works evenings in Pennsylvania, so it’s not like I can pick up the phone after work and talk.”

“You asked my opinion.” He tugged on his earlobe. “I’m giving it to you straight,” he said, his eyes darting around the room in an agitated way. “Unless you want to have sex with the jerk who dropped you last year, don’t go near him.” He looked at her as if she needed to have a psych referral.

“You’re right. I was leaning in that direction, too,” she said, mostly to her plate. “I won’t even call him back or text him. Thanks for helping me see that more clearly.”

Polly sensed a change in John’s suddenly irritated mood when she spoke those last words. He inhaled subtly and took another drink from his wineglass, then glanced at his watch.

“We should probably get you back to the hospital to pick up your stuff so you’ll have time to get to that movie,” he said.

She lifted her chin and gave an exaggerated nod. “Right.” She’d blown it. A perfectly lovely dinner with her boss. Until she’d opened her big mouth about some other guy. Could John be jealous? Of course not.

The walk back to the hospital was quiet between them, but the streets, which had come to life with people heading out for the Friday night, weren’t. Across the way, Central Park looked hauntingly beautiful in the twilight. John strode on, not saying a word, hands in his pockets, a man on a mission. She did her best to keep up, but her feet were killing her.

“Thank you for buying dinner, Johnny,” she said, the only words she could think of. Hoping to remind him he’d given her permission to call him that.

“Any time, dumpling.”

That got a smile out of her. He was a paradox. She’d been around many gruff men in her life, but had never cared what they’d thought before. Staring at his profile in the dimming light, she saw a proud man, a talented surgeon, a man respected, if not liked by his peers, yet a man loved by his patients. A man she suspected hid something awful behind his gruff demeanor. Truth was, she found him more and more intriguing and attractive by the moment.

Beginning on Monday, she’d steer clear of him, especially after making a fool of herself by asking him for relationship advice. Whatever had made her think that was a good idea?

Since there was no way in hell she’d ever have a chance with a man like Johnny Griffin, what was the point of being around him? Because she liked him? Found him sexy? The thoughts caused her to pause on the pavement.

That’s when he reached for her hand, wrapping his long, strong fingers around it, and pulled her brusquely along the crowded street toward Angel’s.

CHAPTER FOUR (#ulink_6cd84b50-77fb-5f91-ab1c-181cdd50c13a)

POLLY TAGGED ALONG behind John at a fast and challenging clip. They rushed through the hospital lobby towards the elevator, past the “welcome” clown pacing on stilts and the piano player, who was smack in the middle of “Old MacDonald”. Diverse entertainment for visiting hours. He moved like a man with a single thought on his mind—how to dump his dinner date. Yet he never let go of her hand.

Still not saying a word on the crowded elevator trip to the sixth floor, he tugged her down the hall and, having left his office door unlocked, whisked it open, practically dragging her inside. Only then did he release his grip. She went directly for her bags and personal items, assuming he wanted her gone. Now.

Why had she thought that offering John Griffin pizza was a good ice-breaker in order to bring up her question about whether or not to go out with an old boyfriend? All she’d done had been to tick him off.

He stood off to the side, staring out the window, hands crammed into the pockets of his slacks, looking like he was doing battle with a slew of demons in his head. Had she done that to him?

“I feel like you’re mad at me,” she said, stating the unmistakable.

He turned abruptly. “I’m not mad at you, I’m angry about how you try to please everyone else and overlook yourself.”

She bunched her hands into fists. “I’ve had a lifetime of practice. Old habits die hard, you know?”

He tugged his earlobe. “I know.”

Relieved that he wasn’t fuming at her but was more irritated at her situation, a wave of mismatched feelings swept deep, causing confusion in her mind and her eyes to water. She glanced away.

“If you don’t mind—” her voice sounded congested “—I’ll change out of these shoes for the subway first.”

He turned and watched as she sat on the edge of a chair. “I thought you were going to the movies.” The man had gone tighter than a stretched rubber band and the muscle at his jaw twitched as he blatantly ground his molars.