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“I worked in the ER at a New York City hospital.” A rotation in medical school. But he didn’t need the details of her résumé, not right now.

“You’re a doctor?”

She nodded, leaving out and I also have a Ph.D. He’d find out in the morning when he went to pick up Dr. Westbury, the neurologist who he believed would be treating his brother—­and came face-­to-­face with her. Right now, it sounded like Brody Summers needed someone to listen. Nothing more.

Shoving her teenage fantasies aside, Kat focused on the man buried in worry for a lost child.

Oh hell, he’s still perfect, ready to rush in and save the day. Only he’s moved beyond Super Gluing sneakers.

Lust fought for control, but she pushed the pesky, physical feelings aside. Right now she needed to do something to help Brody Summers climb out of the pit of worry and dread he’d dug for himself.

“I know the feeling of doing everything you possibly can for a kid and still losing,” she said. “The first time, I was convinced I’d failed. The little girl was only five years and we tried everything. She was in a coma for four days. It felt like forever. But the whole time, I kept thinking this must be so much worse for the family. I was the one who could do something about it. I had the training. If only I could be there, at her side more, or come up with a way to save her—­”

And wow, that was so much more than she’d planned to share. It had been a long time since she thought about that kid.

“What happened?” Brody asked, his brow knit with concern.

“We lost her. The worst part was facing the parents to deliver the bad news. In that moment, you realize it doesn’t matter that you tried every trick in the book. At the end of the day you still failed and their baby is gone.” She took a sip of her wine, carefully setting the glass back on the bar. “And that was the wrong story to tell right now. I sent plenty of patients home to their families, healed and happy.”

“I haven’t done everything.” Brody glanced at the lobby, ignoring her disclaimer. “I should be out there searching, making sure the kid gets reunited with his parents.”

“Your shift ended?” she guessed.

“Yeah. The team leader in this area plays by the rules. He wants everyone searching the mountain rested. I told him to call me if they need more hands later, once I’d had a break. And the guys still out there are sending updates. So I’ll find out when it’s over.”

He turned his focus back to his drink, his jaw still tight with frustration. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.” She took a long drink from her wine. When she’d daydreamed about seeing Brody Summers again, she’d skipped over the depressing-­conversation-­in-­a-­generic-­hotel-­bar fantasy. She’d imagined a wanting smile as he pulled his shirt over his head. But fate was up to her old tricks again, offering her the man of her dreams buried in concern for a child. Sex was probably the last thing on this man’s mind.

“Ask away,” she said.

“How did you cope when your everything wasn’t enough?” His brown eyes stared into hers. “When you lost a child?”

I counted down the days until the end of my ER rotation and I hit the gym.

But she had a feeling Brody Summers, Mr. I’ll Help Save Your Sneakers, wasn’t ready to give up search and rescue.

“Did you bring a swimsuit?” she asked, her imagination running full speed ahead. Brody Summers in a swimsuit, every inch of his muscular upper body on display . . .

She mentally slammed the door, knowing she needed to draw the line at looking tonight. But she could still offer a way to work off the building fears for a child and his frustration at being sidelined.

“I’m only here one night,” Brody said. “Why?”

“Boxers or briefs?” she asked.

“What?” His eyebrows shot up, his brown eyes widening.

“I’m going somewhere with this.” Maybe not back to the king-­size bed in her hotel room, but tonight she would have to settle for Brody Summers dripping wet in his underwear.

And the knowledge that she’d stepped in and helped him this time.

“Boxers.”

“I know just what you need.” Kat signaled the bartender for the check. “A little late night exercise to take your mind off the things you can’t change.”

“Exercise?” His brown eyes glanced down at her legs.

OK, so maybe sex wasn’t the very last thing on his mind.

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