Up close, she could see the flecks of gold around his pupils. And the green turned into an aqua blue near the outer rim of his irises.
“What happened to not mixing business with pleasure?” His voice was so low it was nearly a growl.
“If Julia has her way, we might not survive the day.Carpe diem, right? Besides”—she shrugged, sounding breathless because shewasbreathless—“the last of the treasure’s been brought up. And since Dana will sign an affidavit swearing you salvaged it legally, I doubt the Feds or the state will try to file a claim. Basically, my work here is done.”
For a handful of seconds, he said nothing. And the longer he remained silent, the more worried she became that he might not be on board with her sudden change of heart. Then, his eyes dropped to her mouth and his pupils dilated.
“Once you fire this bullet,” he whispered hoarsely, “it won’t go back in the barrel.”
She shivered at the warning. “Is that a promise?”
He didn’t say anything. Instead, he licked his lips, and she saw the muscles in his forearm flex as he prepared to pull her forward. As he prepared to finally,finallyfinish what they’d started the night they met.
It was also when she noticed the blood.
“Doc!” She grabbed his wrist, pulling back from the temptation of his waiting mouth.
“Dalton,” he corrected her.
“You’re hurt,Dalton.” She showed him the thin cut through the letter R in his tattoo. Small rivulets of blood beaded on the wound. A few had dripped and left bloody paths down to his elbow. When she glanced down, she saw dark stains on the side of his shirt. “You must’ve cut yourself on the broken window when you were holding onto the shutter.”
“It’s nothing.” He tried to shake off her grip so he could grab the back of her neck again.
“It’snotnothing,” she protested, hopping off the bed.
When she kissed him again—and it was a question ofwhenand notif—she wanted to be able to focus all her energy on his mouth. She wanted no distractions. Definitely no thoughts of him contracting some terrible infection that ended in his arm being amputated.
“I’m the doctor,” he grumbled when she tried to yank him to his feet. “If I say it’s nothing, it’s nothing.”
“Remember when I asked for your opinion? Medical or otherwise?” She fisted a hand on her cocked hip. “No? Me neither. Besides, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander. You patched me up. Now, let me patch you up.”
He muttered something she didn’t quite hear. But she was pretty sure it wasn’t flattering. When he pushed to a stand, he had to adjust himself.
She was careful to hide her triumphant smile, but some of it must’ve been revealed in her eyes because he frowned. “Yes. This is what you do to me. I hope you’re proud of yourself.”
“I am, actually,” she admitted cheekily before grabbing his hand and dragging him from the room.
Chapter 8
4:39 PM...
I’m a damn fool.
Doc had silently repeated that phrase to himself at least a half dozen times since Cami lit the bathroom candle and pointed for him to sit down on the closed toilet lid. The statement was as true on the sixth repetition as it’d been on the first.
Still, he couldn’t convince himself to change course. Couldn’t convince himself to tell her thatno, just because she’d decided there was no longer any reason for them to keep each other at arm’s length thathewas going to throw all his misgivings out the window and go along with her decree.
Because what if he’d been wrong to think if he allowed his fantasies to become reality thenlikingher andlustingafter her might grow into something more? What if that old saying was true?We want what we can’t have.And so maybe after he’dhadher, he’d stopwantingher.
Or what if I’m rationalizing because I want her so much I can feel the ache for her all the way from the top of my head to the soles of my feet, and now that I can have her, I just don’t have the strength to say no?
“Where is that bottle of peroxide?” she muttered, her head hidden behind the mirrored door of the medicine cabinet.
He knew she was smiling. He could hear the smile in her voice; he was that attuned to every single, subtle nuance that made up the whole of Camilla Jane D’ Angelo.
“There you go being a smart-ass again.” He feigned a fierce frown when she leaned around the medicine cabinet door and gifted him with an devilish grin.
Her brown eyes looked nearly black in the golden glow of the flickering candle flame. And the expression in them was definitely wicked.
