The Doctor Wore Spurs

She felt a softening inside her. “Thank you. I’m glad to hear that. I’ll have to go visit him.”

He lifted the bag. “Also brought some Blue Bell ice cream to share with you and find out more about my modeling assignment.”

Give up, Jill told herself. “Come in,” she said, unable to conceal her reticence.

He gave a bad-boy grin and sauntered inside. “You were going to let me stay out there all night.” He made a tsking sound. “I can see you need some exposure to our Texan hospitality. What made you let me in? My smile, charm or great butt?”

Just for fun, she was sorely tempted to say his great butt. “Ice cream,” she told him. “It’s one of my five basic food groups.”

He plastered a crestfallen expression on his face. “The ice cream was a bonus. I was supposed to be the main draw. I don’t know if my ego can take this.”

“Oh, I’m sure it can,” she said. “Isn’t it the biggest part of you?”

“Oh,” he said, giving a rough chuckle and shaking his head. He moved closer, crowding her. “That’s a terrible thing to say to a man. You know you’re asking for trouble, don’t you?”

Three

Uh-oh. Jill’s heart slammed into her rib cage at the seductively predatory look on Tyler’s face. She licked her lips. “I thought we decided you didn’t need to flirt with me.”

“You said that. Not me,” he said, moving closer.

She took a step backward. Her heart still racing, she struggled to remain rational. “This is silly. You have an entire hospital full of women interested in you. The only reason you’re doing this is because I’m not interested in you.”

“You’re not?” he said, his voice rippling over her nerve endings.

She took another step back. “I told you I’m here to do a job.”

“And you’re not at all attracted to me,” he said.

Jill took another step and felt the wall behind her. “You’re a flirt.”

He nodded. “You don’t like flirts.”

“I haven’t had good experience with flirts.”

He went still for a moment and stared into her, not at her, into her, and she could almost swear he could read her. “Your husband was a flirt,” he said, and gently lifted his hand to her cheek.

His touch made something inside her tumble free. She closed her eyes to fight the feeling.

“He was an idiot.”

“How do you know?” she whispered, appalled at the burning sensation behind her eyes.

“He had you forever, but he let you go,” he said, then his mouth touched hers.

His lips were warm and searching. She felt the same searching inside her. He brushed against her lips back and forth, coaxing, inviting. Jill opened, and he tasted her and she tasted him. She tugged gently on his bottom lip, and his groan vibrated in all her secret places. He pressed his chest against her and she immediately felt her nipples harden. His hand molded her jaw, caressing her. His tongue teased her, her brain clouded with his musky masculine scent, and she wanted more. She wanted his strong arms around her, his hard body pressed against hers. She wanted the rush and heat of passion. She wanted to make him lose his cocky control, and she wanted him to make her lose hers.

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