Jill Shalvis - Luke

"So done."

"Are you always cranky when you don't eat?"

"I told you, I have a vir-"

"Virus," he said at the same time as her, and shaking his head, he moved to the door and shut it. "So." He leaned into her, and yet again his pulse jumped, and so did hers. He could see it beating furiously at the base of her throat. "Is it really that you don't feel good, or was it the shock of attraction when I touched you?"

Her mouth tightened, but she remained stubbornly mute.

"Yeah," he said softly. "Thought so."

"You are the most egotistical man I've ever met."

"Egotistical?" He let out a rough laugh. "Faith, I put my hands on you in a purely nonsexual way and it jolted me to my toes. Is it 'egotistical' to admit that terrifies me?"

She bit her lower lip, a sexy little gesture that didn't help matters any. "Okay, maybe I felt it, too. A little."

"A little," he repeated. For a reason completely unknown to himself, he stroked her jaw. "What are we going to do about it?"

"Nothing, nothing at all. I'm too busy, and you… you're back to your own life, Dr. Universe. Thanks for the help the last two weekends, but your services are no longer needed or required."

Since he spent most of his life being needed in one form or another, this should have been a welcome break. She was right, he should be celebrating. "Fine."

"Fine."

Now he felt tense again. "You really feeling better?"

"Sure."

Yeah, and he was Santa Claus. "What did you last eat?"

"I had a nice big pasta salad for lunch, a good healthy snack of carrots-"

"Dinner, Faith. Something with protein."

"By dinner I was sick," she admitted. "I didn't want to eat."

"You need a keeper, you know that?"

"I've been on my own for a long time. For forever. I'm my own keeper."

"Well then, damn it, do a better job. Where's your family?"

"Africa, if you must know. They're missionaries. And before you ask, I have a sister, but she's in Europe. She works as a traveling midwife there."

So she was as alone as he was. "They're as dedicated as you."

"More. They give everything they have to their jobs, over everything else. At least I still manage to have a life."

"Really? When?"

She looked away. "Sometimes."

He didn't like the hint of sadness in her eyes, or the knowledge that her parents had put their work ahead of their children, much the way his own had. "And so you're completely alone." The way he was. Damn it, why had he started this conversation?

"I have the clinic."

Yeah, the clinic. Which brought them full circle. "Just tell me why you released me from my duties here."

"You're a smart man," she whispered, stepping back, away from his touch. "You figure it out."

"But-"

"Good night, Luke." With a gentle shove, she put him back out into the night.

The door shut behind him, but when he turned, there was a definite gap between the wood and the jamb. He stared at it uneasily. "Put a chair beneath the knob," he said to the wood. "And I'll send someone to fix that lock tomorrow."

"Good night, Luke."

"A chair," he repeated, and stood there until he heard her do it, then with a long, pent-up breath, drove home.

You're a smart man, you figure it out.

But he didn't, not until hours and hours had passed, during which time he'd tossed and turned in his bed, watching the shadow of the moon play across the ceiling.

Finally, with the rising sun, he got it. She'd released him from his duties for the exact same reason he'd been so afraid to go back.

It was that undeniable something between them, a spark neither of them could ignore, and neither wanted. More importantly, there was a need.

He needed her.

He, Luke Walker, who did his damn best not to need anyone else, needed her.

A few sleepless nights later, Luke sat in front of his television with no idea what was on. His head hurt, his mind was full of things; work mostly, and the incredible miracles they'd performed at the hospital all week, and also his brother's upcoming wedding, which was now definitely set for summer.

He was Matt's best man, which was okay, even if a part of him was still baffled over how his brother could possibly want to sleep with the same woman for the rest of his life.

Damn, he needed ibuprofen. Too bad he was out of them. A doctor who couldn't heal his own headache. Sad.

Tomorrow was Saturday. A day he should have dedicated to one redheaded, temperamental, beautifully infuriating Faith McDowell because of his own big mouth.

But she'd politely set him free.

Which really, as Leo had said, should have sent him dancing down the hallways. And it would, if his head didn't still feel as if it was going to fall right off his shoulders.

When he heard the knock at his door, he turned off the TV. Maybe if he was really quiet, whoever it was would go away. Far away.

Another knock didn't improve the pounding in his head, so he got up. The last person in the world he expected, and the one person on his mind, stood there wearing a flowery sundress and strappy sandals.

Faith McDowell, so tough and in charge of her world, had pink toenails and a dainty little silver toe ring.

"Hi." She let out a little smile. "Am I interrupting anything?"

"Nothing but a king-size headache."

"Really?" She cocked her head and sent him a sympathetic look. "I could fix that for you."

"You have ibuprofen? I'm completely out, and too lazy to go to the store."

"I don't need pills."

"Hmm." He eyed her. "You have fairy dust?"

"Maybe." She reached for his hand. "Let me get rid of the headache for you, Luke."

He felt the pull of her touch like a thousand watts as she led him into his own house. Did she feel it, he wondered as he followed her like an eager puppy, watching her slim, straight spine, her hips swaying in a way that made his aching head spin.

She craned her neck when he slowed his steps, and her hair wildly flowed around her bare shoulders. "Problem?"

Hell, yes. "No. No problem."

She sent him a smile from beneath lowered lashes that revealed nothing of her true thoughts. "Then what's the slowdown? You chicken?" she taunted.

Her voice was low, sexy, and he doubted that was intentional. Still, the teasing lightened his own troubled thoughts. "Hell, yeah, I'm chicken. There's a reason I always wear the doctor's coat."

"It'll only take a minute for me to make you feel better, I promise." She pushed him down to his coach and stood over him, her hands on her hips.

His eyes hungrily traveled up the length of her curvy, lush body. "Is it gonna hurt?" he asked, only half kidding.

"Not if you believe."

He nearly swallowed his tongue when she dropped to her knees on the floor beside him, head now level with the part of his body coming to hopeful attention. Complicating matters, she put her hand on his thigh.

From her shockingly innocent yet unbearably erotic position, with her hair brushing his knee, she smiled. "Put your hand on your thigh," she instructed. "Palm up."

"Uh…" He was getting more intelligent by the moment.

"Just try it," she said in that voice that brought to mind hot, wild sex on silk sheets by moonlight. Just try it. He set his hand as directed on his thigh.

"Close your eyes."

"Faith-"

"Close 'em, doc."

At least she'd left off the Universe endearment. Slowly, feeling… strangely aware, he closed his eyes.

After a heartbeat, her finger ran over his, lightly, and he relaxed.

"Good," she whispered. "Let go. Let it all go."

Her voice was hypnotic, and he loosened up even more. Then, suddenly, he felt a pinch in the fleshy part of his hand between his thumb and pointer finger, and his eyes flew open. "Ouch!"