ie Miller didn t bother looking up when she heard the knock on her office door.

He
r next physical therapy patient was early, which irked her since she hadn t even c
ompleted the paperwork from the previous appointment. She pushed her glasses bac
k in the proper place. He could just cool his heels in the hallway for the next
ten minutes while she fini
The knock came again, a little more insistently this time, and her resolve to no
t cater to someone else s wishes crumbled, as usual. Dropping her pen to the sheaf
of papers in front of her, she called out, Come in.
A head of perfectly styled dark hair popped around the edge of the door. Hope I m n
ot disturbing you.
Before she could order her heart to behave, it skipped a beat at the mellowy-smo
oth voice of Dr. Stephen Mann, Director of Sports Medicine and major hottie at N
orthern Nevada Medical Center. At warp speed, her brain performed an unsolicited
catalog of her appearance, spitting out the usual diagnosis of plain and disheve
led. Holding back a disappointing sigh and the urge to smooth a hand over the str
ands of hair that escaped her ponytail, she gave him her best smile. Not at all.
I didn t forget another meeting, did I?
Twin dimples winked at her. No, not today.
He turned to close the door, and her pulse raced. As an orthopedic surgeon, he d v
isited her less-than-impressive office in the Rehab and Sports Med Center plenty
of times to discuss mutual patients. But not once had he ever closed the door.
Trying hard not to race to conclusions, she gestured in front of her. Please, hav
e a seat.
Uh
Lucie glanced to the single visitor chair piled high with file folders, old news
papers, and research articles. She swore she felt her cheeks actually change col
or as she bolted around her desk. Oh my gosh, I m so sorry. Here, let me just
That s all right, you don t have to
No, I insist. She gathered the haphazard paper mountain in her arms. Not for the f
irst time, or even the hundredth time, she wished she weren t so disorganized. Spi
nning in a quick circle, she searched for a place to stash the mess. Stacks just
like the one she held lined the walls of her office on the floor and over every
square inch of desk and file cabinet space. Finally she gave up and just ploppe
d the pile into her chair before turning her attention to her guest. God, why co
uldn t she be smooth and put-together like other women? Like the kind Stephen date
d. So, what brings you down into the bowels of the hospital this afternoon?
He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. Normally, the gorgeous doctor was
the picture of confidence. It was the reason women literally sighed in his wake
. Well, that and his easy charm and Ken-doll good looks complete with killer smi
le.
The hospital s annual charity dinner and dance is only two months away, and whereas
a guy only has to rent a tux and show up, I m aware that a woman needs ample time
to shop for a dress and schedule all sorts of hair and nail appointments and wh
atever else it is that you women do to make yourselves beautiful.
Lucie s throat closed, and her fingers flew to fidget with her necklace. This was
it. They d worked together for years, sometimes even staying hours past their shif
ts to work on mutual cases, ordering bad Chinese when their brains refused to qu
it but their stomachs could no longer be ignored. They d always been intellectuall
y compatible, and their mutual obsession to help patients recover quicker and be
tter bonded them as nothing else could. She d loved him for years, but he d never as
ked her out. Never made a move, instead preferring to date classy businesswomen
he met during happy hour at the posh Club Caliente down the street