Janice Lynn - Playboy Surgeon, Top-Notch Dad

Shards of electricity pulsated through her, lighting fires where he touched and radiating out to the tips of her fingers and toes.

Blair’s insides turned to goop.

This was bad. Very bad.

But oh, my, did bad feel good.

Way too good to find her voice and make him stop.

It was just a quick therapeutic massage. Nothing more.

For therapy. That was all. Really.

Blair’s hands dropped to her lap.

He stroked her tight muscles with a feathery touch. His fingers traced across the curve of her neck. So lightly she could almost think she imagined the burn of his fingertips through the short strands of her hair.

But she wasn’t imagining his touch.

Or her reaction.

Every nerve cell zinged to life, jumped, flipped inside out.

Sighing, she closed her eyes.

His pressure increased.

Standing behind her chair, he worked on her neck and upper shoulders, dispensing every knot, leaving sensitized chaos in his wake.

Every breath echoed across endless time.

Every heartbeat thundered through endless space.

His fingers were magic that massaged away every reason she should tell him to stop, magic that made her forget she didn’t like him.

His hand moved around her neck, stroked over her shoulders, her clavicle.

“Mmm.” She angled to give him easier access, the back of her head brushing against his flat abdomen.

Oh, my.

His fingers skimmed back and forth, slow, teasing, caressing the column of her throat, her chin. He gently traced her mouth. Her tongue darted out to moisten her suddenly dry lips. His fingers paused.

Blair’s breath caught and held.

Butterflies danced in her belly, sending up a fluttery rainbow of sensations that brought her black-and-white world into Technicolor. Sensations that made her acutely aware that she was a woman.

It had been a long time since she’d felt that awareness.

She turned, looked up at him, saw the desire reflected in his eyes.

He reached for her, taking her hand, pulling her to her feet, their bodies so close they practically touched. In a daze, Blair breathed in his spicy scent, felt his palm cup her face, felt his body heat lure her closer, for her to close the small gap between them.

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.

He might have started out just massaging her neck, but when Stephanie had walked in he’d been about to kiss her.

The worst part was that she’d let him touch her. As much as she wanted to believe she would have stopped him, she wasn’t so sure that she would have. If Stephanie hadn’t interrupted, she’d be swapping spit with the worst playboy she’d ever encountered.

With Addy in the next room.

Had she completely lost her mind?

“I came to tell you Dorothy is leaving in just a few. Addy is helping her finish the last of the mailers.”

Drawing upon all her strength, Blair kept her shoulders high and walked around the desk. She checked her watch. Almost eight on a school night.

“I need to go, too, but I’m off duty on Saturday. Would that be an okay time for Addy and I to come back?”

Stephanie’s curious eyes lit with gratitude. “That would be wonderful. Addy was a great help with the envelopes.”

“I’ll take the list home with me and finish making the calls while I’m at lunch tomorrow or Friday. Perhaps even at Dr Talbot’s tomorrow night if he naps. Maybe I can get the rest marked off between now and Saturday.”

“I’ll be here on Saturday, too. I’ll bring Dr T with me if he’s up to it. He needs to get out of the house.” Oz moved behind Blair, not so close that he was touching her, but enough that his scent enveloped her, taking her back to the moments before Stephanie had walked into the room. No. No. No. She did not wish she’d kissed Oz.

“We’ll go over what we have covered for the fund-raiser,” Oz continued, oblivious to the effect he was having on Blair. “Hire out what we don’t, grab some lunch, then spend the rest of the day with Dr T.”

“Thanks.” Stephanie smiled knowingly at them, a pleased smile, making Blair even more self-conscious. “I’ll just go tell Dorothy goodbye and leave you two alone so Oz can go back to…um…helping.”

Great.

The moment Stephanie was gone, Blair spun toward Oz. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Don’t go all defensive,” he warned, giving her a frustrated look that said perhaps he wasn’t as calm as he’d pretended. That maybe he had been aware of the effect his nearness was having on her and that he’d been just as affected.

“I’m not being defensive,” she spat back, determined not to go soft on him again.

“Yes, you are. I understand.” The blasted man stroked his knuckles across her face. “We should go somewhere and talk.”