Hey, now. What was that?
“Back to the subject at hand, Satan,” she said briskly. “It wouldn’t hurt you to let your guard down a little.”
“I think it could hurt me quite a lot,” he said, and he looked at her for a long minute, and in his clear blue eyes, she saw something she didn’t exactly expect.
He was lonely. He was brilliant, and sought after and busier than most people on earth, and he was lonely.
A bellow of laughter came from Dr. Pink Shirt’s table—Dammy-ahn—and Winnie glanced at them again. There he was, leaning toward another doctor as he glanced at Lorenzo. He pulled a face, laughed, and slapped the other person’s back and said something to his companion. And maybe it was because she was fourth of five children, but Winnie excelled at eavesdropping, and she heard what he said.
“Such a pretentious asshole.”
Nope.
Winnie hopped off the stool. “Excuse me,” she said, taking a step closer to Dr. Pink Shirt and his buddies. “I overheard what you just said about Dr. Santini, and I couldn’t help but disagree. He is not dry and dull as dust, and if he was, why do you trail after him like a lost puppy hoping he’ll pat you on the head? Also, he’s not pretentious because he doesn’t have to pretend. He’s a genius, and if you’re too dumb to realize that, I sure as hell wouldn’t trust you with a scalpel.”
And then, in the silence that felt suddenly very obvious, she suddenly felt mortified. Behind her, she could feel Lorenzo’s censure, simmering like lava about to erupt. How humiliating—his assistant, who hadn’t even graduated from college, defending him. He was going to fire her for sure.
“Well. Thank you for your input, uh…Miss…person,” Damian said. “Would you care to join us?”
“No!” she said. “Absolutely not.” She turned to the bartender. “Charge my drink to my room, okay? 1503, last name Smith. Give yourself a twenty-dollar tip.”
She didn’t look at Lorenzo, felt the unexpected sting of tears behind her eyes. Her face was burning. It took a thousand steps to reach the exit, and she was terrified she’d turn her ankle in the unfamiliar shoes. So much for feeling glam earlier. She felt like an idiot right now. Finally, she was next to the elevators, jabbing the down button repeatedly.
“What is it about you and making a scene in bars?” Lorenzo asked, and she jumped, not realizing he’d followed her. “This isn’t trivia night at the Ice House.”
“How do you know about the Ice House?” she asked.
“Dante told me just after I hired you. You also told me yourself, just last night.”
“Oh. Right.”
The doors slid open, and it seemed like a hundred people poured out, leaving the elevator empty for the two of them. They stepped in, and the doors closed.
“I certainly don’t need you defending me,” Lorenzo said. “Dr. Hughes is a very good surgeon. He is not ‘dumb,’ as you said.”
“He called you a pretentious asshole!”
“So?”
“So he was disrespecting you!”
“And?”
“And I didn’t like it!” she exclaimed. “Because, Lorenzo, you’re rare, okay? Even in this hotel, with all these surgeons from all over the country, you stand out. They all wish they had what you have. They all admire you. You have the brains, the skill, the integrity. And if the only way one of them can feel good about himself is to try to take you down, well, fuck him. And if me telling him off somehow hurts your beloved reputation, sue me.”
He didn’t sue her. He kissed her instead.
FIFTEEN
WINNIE
Okay, he did more than kiss her.
He pressed her against the elevator wall, cradled her head in his hands, and stunned her by pressing his lips against hers. It was so shocking that for a second, Winnie wasn’t sure it was actually happening. But yes, he was kissing her, and then she appeared to be kissing him back, gripping his arms, then sliding her hands up along his shoulders. His mouth was warm and, um…yes, it was…yep. They were kissing. And it was…
Incredible.
Her organs seemed to be melting, and heat throbbed between her legs. Her mouth was doing things against his, and a low sound came from her throat.
