Dr. Daddy. Elizabeth BevarlyЧитать онлайн книгу.
too, her hands strong and capable and not much smaller than his. And as for the coy, demure and submissive part, well... Zoey Holland had never been accused of being any of those things. She spoke her mind when it suited her—and often when it did not—and no one, no one, ever told her what to do.
Except for Jonas Tate, a little voice in the back of her head taunted. He can get a rise out of you faster than a thoroughbred through the gate.
Zoey doubled her fists at her sides when she realized how easily she had fallen into the trap. Just by succumbing to his dare that she do something he knew she otherwise wouldn’t, she’d played right into Jonas Tate’s hands. Once again, he’d told her what to do.
“On the count of three,” he instructed her softly, his voice coming from dangerously near her ear.
She turned to find his face scant inches away from her own and started to back away. But his fingers circled her wrist and held her close, a cryptic smile that curled his lips her only indication that he’d known how she was going to react before she’d even formed the thought in her head. Reluctantly, she stayed put in her position beside him, but she couldn’t quite shake the shivery sensations that spiraled up her arm and through her heart to pool in a tightly wound coil in her stomach.
She scarcely heard him count the numbers, but reacted accordingly when he reached three. Zoey and Jonas both inhaled deeply, bent forward at the waist and expelled their breaths in a long gust of wind. The candles sputtered and went out, every last one. The group surrounding them laughed and applauded, and even Zoey felt oddly pleased by their accomplishment.
“Guess this means my birthday wish will come true,” Jonas said, his voice low and suggestive and once again closer to Zoey’s ear than she found comfortable.
When she turned to face him this time, his eyes were lit with a bold fire, and she got the unnerving feeling that he was trying to tell her something.
“Yeah, well, that’s what they say, isn’t it?” she replied, her own voice sounding breathless and weak.
His fingers on her wrist tightened, not painfully, but insistently. “Don’t you want to know what I wished for, Zoey?”
The light in his eyes took on a new dimension, now becoming undeniably libidinous. She felt his thumb stroking over the pulse in her wrist, felt her own heart racing. Was this some kind of joke? she wondered. What was he trying to do to her?
She shook her head feebly as she replied, “No. I don’t think I do.”
One corner of his mouth lifted in a wry grin. “Well, since my wish is destined to come true, you’ll find out about it soon enough, seeing as how it includes you, too.”
She tried to laugh off the odd sexual tension that had suddenly leapt up between them, but her laughter came out sounding hollow and false. Finally, she tugged her wrist out of his grasp, circling it with her free hand as if she’d been burned.
“Oh, I get it,” she said with a flip shake of her head, regaining enough of her senses to issue a chuckle that was almost convincing. “I know what you wished for.”
The gleam in his pale brown eyes brightened, and he took a step closer to her. “Do you?” he asked.
Zoey nodded and took a step in retreat. “You want me gone. You’re either going to demand my resignation, or you’re expecting me to foul something up so badly you’ll have the perfect excuse to fire me.”
This time Jonas Tate was the one to chuckle, a single, solitary sound that lacked all humor. “Is that what you really think?” he asked her.
Zoey nodded harder. “It’s what I know.”
She took another—giant—step away from him, and the distance seemed to give her more strength, more energy, more conviction that he would not throw her off balance. She glanced quickly around to make sure the others in attendance were occupied elsewhere before she continued, somehow managing to keep her voice low.
“Well, don’t hold your breath, Dr. Tate,” she continued. “Because I’ve been at Seton General for too long and like it too well to give up my position just because some doctor finds me an annoyance. And all modesty aside, I’m too good at what I do to ever make a mistake that would end my career here.”
She waited to see how he would respond, and wondered if maybe in speaking to him so boldly she had just made precisely the kind of mistake she’d sworn not to. But instead of retorting angrily or threatening to fire her, Jonas Tate just smiled.
“Touché, Zoey,” he finally said quietly. “Touché.”
And with that he turned to the cake that Lily had finished slicing and was now passing out to everyone present. He didn’t look back at Zoey once, didn’t even seem to notice she was there. For just the briefest of moments, she felt jealous indignation that the man had the nerve to slight her in such a way. Then she realized how ridiculous a reaction that was. She wanted Jonas Tate to ignore her, she reminded herself. And if that meant she had to be dismissed by him, so be it. It was better than being singled out for his full attention.
Wondering why she should suddenly feel cheated that she wasn’t the center of his universe when she had been trying for months to steer clear of him, Zoey backed away. Someone pressed a paper plate with a generous slab of cake into her hand, and she looked down at it blindly. Then, making her way to the LDR room door, she quietly slipped outside. Sleep, she repeated to herself as she went. She needed to catch a few z’s. That could be the only reason for her odd reaction to Jonas Tate just now. By this evening, she wouldn’t even be able to remember what his careless touch had done to her.
Two
Zoey stretched her arms high above her head and watched the clock at the nurses’ station, smiling as the minute hand reached toward the twelve and brought her another hour closer to a long weekend. She had forgotten how pleasant the third shift could be sometimes, when it was quiet and slow moving and passed without incident. In a little over an hour, she’d be heading home to enjoy a leisurely Friday, followed by an even more leisurely Saturday and Sunday. Normally she would be rushing around to get ready for work right now. It was nice how occasionally an otherwise inconvenient scheduling change worked out just right.
Nonetheless, she had been quite happy to leave the eleven-to-seven shift for regular daytime hours three years ago, having grown weary of living her life upside down. Back then, she hadn’t been able to manage any kind of social life, because she had worked while most people slept and slept while others were out enjoying the day. Of course, back then, she’d also had an excuse for why she seldom dated. Now that she was working more regular hours, she still went out with men infrequently. And now she was hard-pressed to figure out why.
Because most men were jerks, she answered herself immediately. Case in point: Dr. Jonas Tate.
Just who in the hell did he think he was? she asked herself for perhaps the hundredth time since yesterday afternoon. He could have caused a nuclear meltdown with those boiling magma glances he had tossed her way. She felt her temperature rise at the simple recollection, telling herself the heat was a result of her anger and nothing more. She had not found his suggestive comments intriguing, she assured herself. Insulting, yes; infuriating, yes; incendiary, okay, maybe. But intriguing? Uh-uh. No way. Absolutely not.
Zoey was still telling herself this when seven o’clock rolled around and Jeannette came in to relieve her. Instead of feeling tired, however, she felt oddly reenergized by her late night’s work and looked forward to a day of play. Olivia would be working, but Sylvie’s bartender hours left her free during the day. Maybe she and Sylvie and Gennie could have an adventure, Zoey thought with a smile. March was still kind of cold to be out and about, but maybe they could take in a movie or do some shopping.
When she’d gathered her things and shrugged into her parka, she exited the nurse’s lounge and punched the button for the down elevator. With a tinny-sounding ding, the doors unfolded, and Lily Forrest stood ready to exit in