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She nodded, picking at a piece of lint, wondering why talking about herself made her feel all squirmy inside. “Yeah, I do. Do you still love being a doctor?”
“After what happened with Allison, I almost quit.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“My sister.” Logan smiled. “She reminded me of our mom and why I started in the first place. She reminded me that even if I could save one life that might not otherwise have been saved, then it was all worth it.
“She loves you, by the way,” he added.
“Clearly she has excellent taste.” Marti pulled her hand from his, then grabbed her cup of hot chocolate. Deciding she didn’t want it, she set it back down again and picked up the remote.
“Why are you fidgeting?”
“I am not.”
“You are. You haven’t stopped since we sat down.”
She grunted and crossed her arms over her chest, then realized she just did it again. Couldn’t she just be still?
Logan laughed. “Am I making you nervous, McBride?”
“Hardly.” She scoffed.
“Hmmm,” he murmured, studying her, then without warning, he leaned in and brushed a kiss over her jaw. “Let’s see . . .” he said, leaning back, examining her. “Dilated pupils.”
He pressed the tiniest of kisses below her mouth. “Shallow breathing.”
What was he doing?
Trailing his finger over the smooth skin of her neck, he expertly placed it over the tender spot below her jaw and held it there, glancing for several seconds with a look of total concentration that had Marti biting her lip. At this rate, her heart would fly from her chest. “Rapid pulse.”
He met her eye as he slid his fingers from her neck, down to her shoulder. His other hand joined in, smoothly moving to the coiled knot at the top of her back. “Tense.”
“What’s the diagnosis?”
“Definitely nerves.” He spoke so close to her mouth, she could taste the chocolate on his breath.
“Is it fatal?” It felt fatal. Any second her heart would burst from her chest.
One corner of his mouth quirked. “I think you’ll live.”
“Any particular remedies?”
“Just one,” he whispered, and then he pressed his mouth to hers.
EVERYTHING FADED AWAY. The air around them turned to dust. Her limbs were no longer hers. Her breath no longer her own.
Logan parted her lips with his, kissing her gently until she surrendered. Fisting his shirt in her hand, she pulled him closer.
He tasted of cocoa and mint—a peppermint patty—and the combination was as lethal as it was intoxicating.
Logan slid his hand under her thighs, shifting her until she was halfway on his lap before he pressed her back into the soft cushion of the sofa with dizzying momentum.
Somewhere in the back of her mind, a voice screamed this was a mistake, letting him in. Feeling.
But her body had a mind of its own as his lips melted with hers. Somewhere in the distance, she heard the faint sound of the Rocky theme song Eye of the Tiger, and she thought, odd, but okay. She could roll with that.
And then Logan sat up, pulling his lips from hers.
