Lori Wilde - Crossing The Line

“You’re going to have to take him to the animal rescue center,” Dante said.

“I know.” Elle stroked the baby’s fur.

“Yet you’re getting attached anyway.”

She shrugged. “A fault of mine. Getting attached when I shouldn’t.”

“It’s not a fault. Just means you care.”

“Yeah well, it makes for a frequently broken heart.”

A long silence stretched between them, interrupted only by the sounds of the baby deer suckling. He finished one bottle and Elle started the famished youngster on another.

“Why’d you marry Mark?” he asked.

“What?” His question caught her off guard. She raised her head, stared at him again. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t get offended,” Dante said. “It’s just that you’re not Mark’s usual type.”

“No?” Of course not, Elle thought. Cassandra was Mark’s usual type—blond, beautiful and busty. Elle stared down at her own average-sized 34B bosom.

“You’re too smart for him.”

“You don’t even know me. How can you say that?”

“You have lively eyes.”

Elle snorted, but his words brought a heated rush of pleasure to her cheeks.

“Let me guess, you put Mark through medical school. Worked a full-time job, paid the bills and helped him with his homework.”

Dante was so right it hurt. “You know what?” Elle said. “That’s none of your business.”

“Touché,” Dante said. “He’s through.”

“Who? Mark?”

“No, the fawn.”

Indeed, the baby had sucked the bottle dry. Feeling an odd strangeness she couldn’t quite identify, Elle got to her feet and swiped at the mud on the knees of her scrubs. “My lunch hour is over. They’ll be wondering where I am.”

Dante stood up, the fawn cradled in his arms. “What are we going to do with him?”

Elle reached out for the baby. “I’ll call my sister-in-law. She’s interning for the vet at the end of the road. She’ll know who to call about disposing of the fawn’s mother and what to do about this little guy.”

Dante transferred the deer to her arms, their fingers brushing again in the process. Suddenly her heart was in her throat and she had no excuse for it.

“So tell me,” she said. “Did you satisfy your curiosity? Or are you still bored?”

He lowered his eyelids and gave her a sultry look. He raked his gaze over the length of her body, then went back to stare at her lips. He looked like a man whose appetite had just been whetted.

Then he said in low, provocative voice, “Not by a long shot.”

The baby kicked and she almost dropped him. Elle tightened her grip on the fawn and told her silly heart to stop beating so fast. The look Dante was giving her meant absolutely nothing.

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