Chapter One
âDonât even think I havenât noticed you checking out the brunette at the bar.â
Dr. Brandon Bishop grimaced. Had his inability to keep his eyes off the dark-haired beauty from the second sheâd stepped into OâMalleyâs been that obvious?
Probably.
Even now he struggled to tear his gaze away from where she sat at the long mahogany bar, studying a menu, and looking as if sheâd walked straight out of a fantasy.
Not that he had the time or inclination for fantasies that involved anything other than the neurology department at the Angel Mendez Childrenâs Hospital. He hadnât, but all that was about to change.
A month from now everything about his life would be different.
Forcing his attention back to his friends, Brandon took a sip from his soda and met Ryanâs amused blue eyes. âSheâs a lot better view than looking at you.â
Laughter broke out around the table and a few of their coworkers jabbed Ryan in the side.
âHe does have a point,â one of the other neurologists pointed out.
Ryan rolled his eyes. âYeah, yeah, but he better be taking a long look because very soon heâs going to miss this ole mug of mine.â
âI just canât believe youâre really leaving,â Becky, a nurse, said with a long sigh. âHow could you leave Angelâs?â
A twinge of guilt hit Brandon.
A twinge? More like being shot in the chest, but he wouldnât let that get to him. Not now. He wouldnât let his friends see even a glimmer of doubt about his decision to resign as head of neurology to take a research position in California.
âYear round sunshine and an ocean breeze?â Brandon went for flippant. No way was he going to tell his coworkers about what had really triggered his decision to leave New York City.
âNot to mention all those tanned California girls,â another of their coworkers teased.
Brandonâs gaze shifted back to the bar. He seriously doubted any California girl could compare to the woman pointing to an item on the menu and smiling at the bartender. Her smile lit up the entire bar and grill. Her smile lit up his insides like Times Square on New Yearâs Eve.
âWhy donât you just go talk to her?â
Good question. Why didnât he?
A thousand reasons to Ryanâs question registered at once, but that didnât keep from Brandon pushing back his chair.
Ryan laughed and slapped him on the back. âDonât do anything I wouldnât do.â
***
âCan I buy you a drink?â
Not even glancing up at the husky male voice, Olivia Bowen gestured in front of her. A not yet touched diet soda rested on a napkin on the barâs sleek mahogany surface.
âAt a bar, but not drinking?â the owner of the voice tsked. âWhereâs the fun in that?â
Wondering if perhaps sheâd have been better off waiting for a table to empty, she shook her head. Sheâd not meant to set herself up as a target for some barfly hoping to get under her skirt. But sheâd been hungry. Her contact at the nursing agency had told her OâMalleyâs served the best food around and just happened to be on the bottom floor of the building where her apartment was. They must be serving something right, because the place was packed. Only the bar had been open for immediate seating.
âIâm not thirsty,â she replied, her gaze fixed on the laminated menu in front of her. Maybe if she ignored him, heâd take the hint and go away. She was in New York City to work, take in the sights, and further her nursing skills, not to get up close and personal with a one night stand or even to start a relationship. Bleh!
âOr perhaps you just havenât found the right drink to quench your thirst,â the man continued, his nice strong voice oozing self-confidence. âIâm just the man to help. Iâve tried several of the house specialties and would be more than happy to make suggestions if youâll allow me to buy you another drink.â
Just the man to help her? Ha. Who said she needed a man to help her? She didnât. Not now. Not ever.
Annoyed by his persistence, she lifted her gaze to tell Mr. Over-Confident Barfly that she wasnât tempted by anything he had to offer and for him to go buzz off. Even if she had been tempted by his offer, sheâd learned never to give in to temptation a long, long time ago. It wasnât a lesson she was likely to ever forget.
But when her gaze collided with the brightest sky blue eyes sheâd ever seen fringed with to-die-for lashes, she fell mute, which was better than falling off her bar stool. The man smiling at her with all the charm of the devil himself was enough to knock her right off her tush and onto the barroom floor.
But it wasnât just the way he looked. It was more. It was the intelligence in his eyes, the assured way he held his body, the magnetic appeal that drew her in as if she had an iron core. Buzz. Buzz.
No wonder he oozed self-confidence. He should be the national spokesman for barflies. Women would be lined up with picket signs reading Pick Me.