“I won’t, either,” he whispered roughly, and sealed her lips with his.
The bastard just left, just like that!
As if every second he had to talk to her was one second too many!
Anna was a happy person — but God, Lucas Moreau made her angry. He should have just saidYes, of course!Yes, of course, we can be friends. Was that so hard?
God, they had sex about twenty-five times! She had never expected anything other than basic politeness and a few orgasms. Lucas had been damn good at that – well, he’d been great in bed, but he had probably never technically beenpolite.Then again, she had been so distracted by the sex that she hadn’t noticed. Otherwise, she would have gathered that Lucas Moreau was an asshole!
Annoyed, she stuffed the last medical file into the cabinet and rubbed her forehead feverishly. Her first day at work had been long but good.
She had spent most of the time familiarizing herself with the premises and her new duties: studying medical records, making mental notes about which player needed which treatment, and what their weak points were. For Leon, it was his shoulder. For Moreau, it was his knee – and his unbearable attitude. That wasn’t in the file, but a notation wouldn’t hurt!
Her door opened and Dr. Reed entered. In the last eight hours, Anna had learned two things: First, her gray-haired boss was a seriously competent individual who had no patience whatsoever. Second, doors were of no value to him.
“He can’t be serious,” he began the conversation. “He left his pills in the locker room again.”
“Who?” Anna asked, confused, but she had a good idea who he meant.
“Moreau! His knee is giving him problems and he’s supposed to take the damn pills to stop infection. But he refuses every time.” The doctor glanced at his watch and shook his head. “He’ll be home by now. So, congratulations, Dr. Temple, you get to make a house call on your first day.”
Anna’s mouth went dry. “What?” She hated the way her voice went up an octave, but making a house call to Lucas Moreau was low on her wish list. Actually, it fell belowhaving a tooth pulledandtelling her brothers a bit about what she and the goalie had been up to for a few months.
“You heard me,” her boss said harshly. “The address is in his personnel file. If necessary, stay with him until he takes the damn pills in front of you, is that clear?”
“But…”
The doctor didn’t let her finish. He pressed the small bottle into her hand and then walked by her out the door.
Anna rubbed her face with both hands and groaned. Shit. Maybe she was wrong. Being the team doctor was definitely not more relaxing than working in an emergency room! At least, not if you had Lucas Moreau as a patient.
Anna had no idea where Lucas lived.
They had never slept together. Never had dinner together. Never watched TV or cooked together. They had sex! That was it.
And only at her place.
Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t even known where Moreau lived until half an hour ago. If she had known, she would have been very surprised.
In her mind, she had imagined him in a small villa in the most expensive neighborhood of Bel Air. Or maybe he lived in a gigantic loft right downtown. Or a beach house in Malibu.
Instead, he owned a house on the outskirts of town. It was so far out, the zip code was almost Pasadena. It was half an hour from the stadium and seemingly half a world away from central Los Angeles.
Out there, there was nothing but pretty parks, good schools, and lots of people pushing strollers. With her mouth gaping, she peered through the windshield at the trimmed hedges, the trim front yards, the pretty semi-detached houses, and the few larger houses that showed their wealth.
His address, however, was not one of those. Anna stopped at the side of the road in front of a two-story, red brick house with a blossoming cherry tree in the front yard. If Moreau’s metallic blue SUV hadn’t been in the driveway, she would have been sure she had lost her way.
What the hell?
Shaking her head, she got out. She didn’t hear a single car, but she did hear the wind. It smelled of freshly cut grass, not smog. The whole area was so quiet and unassuming that it could easily serve as a set for a horror film. Anna turned up the collar of her denim jacket against the wind and walked up the narrow gravel path to the front door, which was painted a pleasant light blue.
There was no name above the doorbell, so she double-checked that she had the right address before ringing it with a heavy sigh. She didn’t want to be here. If Lucas looked at her, silently and coldly, one more time, she might lose her temper and smack him. That might not convince him that they could have a grown-up conversation about their affair. Itwoulddoubtless make her feel a lot better.
Hearing soft footfalls, her heart jumped into her throat as the door opened. She stared straight ahead…and blinked. No one was there.
“Oh,” came a cheerful voice. “You’re not Hazel.”
Anna’s gaze dropped downward in surprise: There was a child standing in front of her. A dark-haired girl, her head thrown back, her hand still on the door handle. She couldn’t have been more than seven years old and was smiling broadly, showing off her missing front teeth.
