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Although she knew she had to stop him, that she couldn’t kiss Oz when she had no room for him in her life, when he’d only end up hurting her if she let her guard down, she touched his face, running her finger over the cleft in his chin, fighting the strongest desire to do the same with her lips. She loved that indentation, that impression on his flawless face.
“Blair, I—”
“How’s it going, you two?” Stephanie stepped into the room.
Blair jerked away from Oz.
Oh, God.
What had she been doing? Thinking?
Addy could have walked in, seen.
Mortified, Blair couldn’t look at Stephanie. How could she when she’d just been caught with Oz?
A man she didn’t even like!
Dear, sweet heavens. She should have stopped him the moment he’d touched her.
She should have stopped him before her body throbbed from his touch, before she wanted to find out what all the hype about Oz Manning was really about.
A quickie massage didn’t mean anything to Oz. but darn it, she didn’t do this. Physical acts meant something to her, meant a lot to her, but…she should have stopped him. She wasn’t one of his groupies. How could she have behaved no better than any of his other conquests? Hadn’t she learned anything from her experience with Chris?
“Oh, sorry,” Stephanie began, a little red-faced and flustered, too.
No way could she not suspect what Blair and Oz had been about to do.
They’d almost kissed. Oh…oh…oh, darn!
This was insane.
Insane. That was exactly right. Temporary insanity.
Because that was what Oz had done. Driven her insane with his playboy ways and his tenderness toward Dr Talbot and Addy. How could he be such a cad with women and yet so appealing with her daughter and dearest friend? With his patients?
“Did you need something?” Oz’s eyes flashed with annoyance and perhaps relief, too, at Stephanie’s interruption.
“What’s going on?” Her gaze dropped to where his
hand burned into Blair’s lower back like a hot poker. Her thin cotton shirt was no barrier to the sear of his touch.
Needing to put as much space between them as she could, Blair stepped forward.
Oz’s hand fell to his side. “Blair had a crick in her neck.”
Stephanie’s brow quirked. “And you offered to help out?”
“You know me. Always willing to lend a helping hand.”
Blair refused to look at him. She didn’t want to know if he wore a serious expression or if he’d waggled those thick blond brows, making light of the situation. She only wanted to rush to the bathroom and splash cold water on her face in the hope of waking herself and finding this was all a nightmare.
Seeming to have recovered from her initial shock, Stephanie smirked at Oz’s comment. “Especially when a female is involved?”
“Blair is certainly female.”
Blair thought she might die of mortification.
At least then she wouldn’t have to face the reality that she’d let Oz Manning touch her. Not just touch her, but touch her.
