âLia.â
He sank his fingers deep into the silk of her hair, searching for the warmth of her scalp beneath, and tilted her head way back so he could have complete access to her mouth, which he took with deep, thrusting sweeps of his tongue. A remote corner of his brain was aware that his urgency was making him a little rough, and maybe he should ease up and let the poor woman catch her breath, but there was no time for that now. Heâd waited too long and there were too many possible ways for their lips to fit together, tasting and nibbling, stroking and tugging, and the taste of herâa delicious combination of white wine and buttery icing from the cakeâwas far too delicious for him to slow down.
More. He needed more.
âI want you.â Jesus, was that him with that guttural and animalistic voice that sounded as though it belonged to a caveman? Too far gone to manage gentle, he grabbed fistfuls of her hair, learning the feel of it, and then ran his fingers over her forehead and dimpled cheeks, and across those lips that were slick and swollen now, but still smiling. âYou have no idea how much I want you.â
Dear Reader,
Hereâs what brilliant surgeon Thomas Bradshaw likes: working hard, playing hard and women. Hereâs what he doesnât like: surprises. Too bad heâs about to get blindsided by the biggest surprises of his life.
First surprise? He has a kid. A precocious eight-year-old son who will die soon if he doesnât receive a kidney transplant, to be more specific.
Second surprise? The kidâs mom, Lia Taylor, a woman so beautiful and intriguing that he has a hard time thinking straight when sheâs around.
Biggest surprise of all? This instant family may just be the best thing thatâs ever happened to him in his lifeâ¦.
Happy reading!
Ann
P.S. Donât forget to look for my next Kimani Romance titles, Sinful Temptation (February 2012) and Sinful Seduction (March 2012), which introduce Alessandro and Antonios Davies, the Twins of Sin.
To Richard
Special thanks to my wonderful editor, Kelli Martin,
and to the other ladies in the Hopewell General series, Brenda Jackson, Maureen Smith and Jacquelin Thomas, for being so delightful to work with. Finally, big hugs and kisses to Mom, for helping me with my medical questions. Guess I owe you some gingersnaps, eh?
Special thanks and acknowledgment
are given to Ann Christopher for her contribution to the Hopewell General miniseries.
Accusing gazes followed Special Agent Lia Taylor through Hopewell General Hospital.
They burned twin laser holes in the back of her head as she toured the facility, which was so massive, foreign and overwhelming to her that she might as well have been dropped via parachute into Beijing or Abu Dhabi. Her first-day jitters intensified, threatening to cause an ulcer in the lining of her churning stomach.
How in Godâs name had she, an FBI systems analyst with an impeccable record, landed herself here, in this hospital and this predicament? How could this possibly work? When would she ever go back to life as she knew it?
Soon? Never?
She felt like a tiny little fish, so far out of water that sheâd never make her way back to her pond again. It didnât help that the immortal words of Judy Garlandâs Dorothy Gale kept running through her overwrought brain:
Toto, Iâve a feeling weâre not in Kansas anymore.
No one in the building seemed to speak her languageâshe caught snippets of conversation from passing personnel, which included incomprehensible phrases like, So, youâre thinking bowel disimpaction? Dude. I hope youâre ready to glove up and dig in, and Did you finally get rid of that GOMER? and Negative appendix? Now what? She was sure she stuck out like a surgical clamp on a chest X-ray. Worse was the creeping certainty that people were staring and whispering as she passed, muttering darkly about the things sheâd done and what she was:
Hacker.
Thief.
Criminal.
Or maybe those accusations were only in her mind.
Man, she hoped so.
Picking up the pace, which was tricky because of her pencil skirt and black pumps, she hurried after her new boss, Germaine Dudley, M.D., chief of staff. He seemed determined to lose her in this labyrinth, possibly because if she disappeared forever into the depths of, say, nuclear medicine, heâd never have to deal with her again.
They would not be winning any popularity contests with each other, she and the good doctor. Oh, no. And while she might be imagining the disapproving glances of everyone else around her, his were the real deal.
âThis is the back way into the E.R.â Dr. Dudley reached out a weathered brown hand and smacked the wall switch plate, making the heavy metal doors whoosh open ahead of them. They strode into yet another nerve centerâthe hospital seemed to have dozens of themâwhere so many scrubs-and-Crocs-wearing people hustled by it was as though sheâd stepped into Grand Central Station. âThis is the easiest way to get here from the cafeteria, if you ever need to.â