“What are you doing, Grace?” Carla asked.
Alexander’s head lifted at my name, his intense gaze trapping me like a butterfly behind glass, challenging me to shrink from his scrutiny.
But this hospital was my workplace, I had home field advantage. So I bit back my nerves to hold his gaze.
“Are you the girl who called me?” His voice was gruff as he stood to his full imposing height. “Why are you here? You said you work for my sister.”
“Only part-time.” My overtired voice came out hoarse. “This is my day job.”
“Looks like your day job ran late," he said, sauntering closer. “Because you waited for me.”
I tucked my arms to my torso to disguise the rapid beating of my heart. My lips parted to explain: Not on purpose! I fell asleep! But he’d spoken with such assurance, I questioned my intentions. Had I been waiting for him? Maybe somehow I’d known …
When I closed my mouth, my lack of denial served as confirmation. The left corner of his mouth hitched a fraction, the start of a crooked grin. Oh my god, if he didn’t stop being so hot, my knees would buckle like a newborn foal.
He stood closer than necessary in a pose of casual power, legs wide and hand tucked into his pocket, forcing me to look up at him.
It was definitely an intimidation tactic, and it was definitely working … but I wouldn’t let him see that. I knew from a childhood arguing with three brothers that if I gave him the upper hand I’d never gain it back.
I unfurled my arms, striking my own hands-on-hip power pose. “I like to believe the best in people.”
“That’s a bit naive, don’t you think?”
“I prefer to think it’s optimistic.” I raised my chin boldly. “And you’re here, aren’t you?”
“I am.” His mouth lifted into a cocky smirk. “Against all odds.”
His messy hair scattered across his forehead, casting a fascinating shadow, and I squeezed my fists to stop myself from brushing it out of his face. Nobody should look this good in a hospital’s unforgiving fluorescent lights, especially after a cross-country flight.
He leaned down close enough to smell: leather, peppermint and authority. “Now are you going to let me in, Grace?”
A shiver ran down my spine at that seductive tone. He could have said, ‘Now are you going to bury this body, Grace?’ and I would have tripped over myself to find the shovel.
He looked over my shoulder. Right, I’d completely forgotten that I was on the threshold of his father’s hospital room, blocking his entrance.
I peered around his impossibly broad shoulder at Carla, standing inside the nurses’ station with her chin perched on her fist, looking ready to pull out a bucket of popcorn.
I widened my eyes, asking permission.
She held up two hands, giving me ten minutes.
I dipped my chin in thanks.
Her wrist flicked, fanning herself.
I felt my cheeks redden as I gave a faint eye roll.
She smirked.
I tilted my head half an inch to look up at Alexander, still crowding my space. He wore a smug grin, as if the entire nonverbal conversation had broadcast over my face. The jerk knew he’d won, and he was gloating.
Saving face, I stepped backwards and pivoted to wash my hands. Above the sink, I winced at my reflection: clumped mascara, worn-off lipstick, stringy hair. The perfect look for close contact with the sexiest man alive.
In the mirror’s reflection, his gaze started at my boots, paused over my hips, and slid up my spine. I pulled a paper towel and moved out of his way, watching as he stepped to the sink.
He rolled up his sleeves to reveal his short fingernails, the taut muscles of his veined forearms, and the glimmer of an expensive gold watch, the kind that costs more than my annual salary.
And no ring.
I don’t know why I noticed that.
After a quick dry, he turned to his father’s hospital bed.
His shoulders tightened and nostrils flared.
I should look away. Give him privacy.
His bottom lip retreated slightly behind his teeth.
I shouldn’t be here.
I should wait in the hall.
His hand rubbed his neck, tugging at his collar.
I knew I should leave.
But I didn’t.
