KRISTI GOLD - Dr. Destiny

When they reached her faded red sedan, she turned to him once again. ‘‘Good game, O’Connor. And I promise I’ll go easier on you next time, in deference to your demanding profession and your poor tired bootie.’’

He didn’t want her to go easier on him. He didn’t want her to leave, either. Right now what he wanted and what he needed had little to do with competition and a whole lot to do with flawed judgment. ‘‘I had a great time, too, except for one thing.’’

‘‘My gloating?’’

Without regard to wisdom, he cupped her jaw in his palm and stroked a thumb down her silky cheek. ‘‘It has to do with something you started but didn’t finish.’’

‘‘Well my gosh, Brendan. I’ll pay you back for the beer. Besides, you’re the one who rushed me—’’

He cut off her words with a kiss. Not a simple innocuous peck. There was nothing innocent about it—not when her lips parted—or the way he took advantage of the moment and slipped his tongue inside the warm heat of her feisty mouth. Not with the way she tasted, like the peppermint she’d grabbed on the way out of the bar, cool and sweet and tempting. Definitely not the way she melted into him and fitted so perfectly against him.

But perfection had a price. Brendan’s body was paying it. He was just this side of losing control. He couldn’t allow that any more than he could allow the kiss to continue. Not at the expense of their friendship.

He moved away and issued another apology on a ragged breath. ‘‘I don’t know what made me do that.’’

She leaned back against the car and folded her arms beneath her breasts. Her cheeks were splotched with red, her eyes dark and dazed. ‘‘I’m not sure what good grace dictates at this particular moment, but all I have to say is let’s not make a big deal out of this.’’

Brendan grabbed his nape with both hands thinking he should probably wring his own neck for being so stupid. ‘‘It is a big deal.’’

She inclined her head and studied him straight on. ‘‘Does it really have to be? I mean, it’s not like you threw me to the ground and ravished me.’’

It’s not like he hadn’t considered that, either. ‘‘We have a great friendship going here. Or we did. Unless I’ve screwed that up now.’’

‘‘The only way you’ll do that is if you suddenly declare I’m a lousy kisser. Then I’ll have to beat you over the head with my racket.’’

She should have done that to him a few minutes ago, Brendan decided. Knocked some sense into him. ‘‘As far as your kissing ability is concerned, I’d say on a scale from one to ten you would rate…’’ He narrowed his eyes and studied her.

‘‘I’m waiting.’’

‘‘About a twenty.’’

Cassie’s spirited smile jump-started Brendan’s pulse back to life. ‘‘Lucky for you, you’ve saved yourself from a terrible fate. For now.’’

Brendan wondered what fate held in store for them the next time they met. If he didn’t get a grip, next time he might not be able to stop with only one kiss.

A rough tongue abrading Cassie’s cheek woke her with a start. She opened her eyes to a gray furry feline curled up on her chest eyeing her expectantly.

A sudden sense that something wasn’t quite right niggled at her muddled mind. Then she remembered. Brendan’s kiss. The no-big-deal kiss. What a joke. Even though she’d said otherwise, it had been a big deal. It still was.

She rested one hand on the cat’s head and the other over her eyes. While she scratched the tabby behind his ears, she relived every moment of the kiss in feature-film clarity—the soft feel of Brendan’s lips, the silken glide of his tongue, the strong yet careful way he had held her. She shouldn’t be surprised that he’d kissed her with the same gentleness he practiced with his tiny patients. She should be surprised that she had so actively participated and so willingly enjoyed it.

No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t fathom what had happened between her and Brendan. A momentary lapse in sanity? A glimmer of chemistry? A mutual need?

All of the above?

She couldn’t let that happen. Long ago she had learned that intimacy did not lead to love. At one time she had made that mistake only to learn that giving in to physical needs only led to heartache. Giving all of yourself to someone didn’t mean that that someone would give themselves emotionally to you.

Cassie uncovered her eyes and checked the bedside clock. Although it wasn’t quite time for her to get up, she might as well since the hungry cat and thoughts of Brendan’s kiss wouldn’t let her go back to sleep.

‘‘Okay, Mister. Time for tuna.’’

She picked up the cat, who gave a meow of protest and a nice love scratch down Cassie’s neck as she carried him into the kitchen to feed him. She opted for a diet soda instead of coffee after doling out disgusting kitty tuna. Then she went into the bathroom and began applying her makeup only to poke herself in the eye with the mascara wand when she couldn’t keep her mind on what she was doing.

Now she was an absolute mess—bloodshot eyes, a red welt compliments of the kitty, and too-fine hair that refused to do anything but lie flat against her head.

She added drops to her eyes before applying her contacts, tried to hide the unsightly scratch with a turtleneck and twisted her uncooperative coif up into a plastic clip, sprigs of hair sticking out on top of her head like random wheat.

Cassie feared this was only the beginning of a daylong battle for control with Brendan invading her brain. How was she going to face him? Like a mature adult, of course. The spontaneous kiss would ruin the relationship only if she let it. She wouldn’t do that. Brendan’s friendship meant too much to her. Neither of them wanted to take the relationship to another level. Or did they?

As Cassie climbed into her car and headed for the hospital, she wondered whether that kiss was only the beginning of something more. Something unexpected and maybe even welcome. Maybe even something wonderful.

‘‘Cassie, you’ve got to come see him!’’

Cassie turned from the In box on her file cabinet and regarded her unexpected visitor. Michelle Lewis Kempner stood at the office door, all smiles and elation, not a strand of shimmering dark hair out of place, her makeup applied to perfection.

Cassie felt like road kill in Michelle’s presence. ‘‘I’ve already seen your husband. Passed him twice this morning as a matter of fact.’’

Michelle rolled her blue eyes. ‘‘Not him, silly. My new nephew. He’s all dressed and ready to go home. Hurry before Jared and Brooke leave.’’

Cassie suddenly remembered Brendan telling her that the Granger baby was going home. Not surprising she had forgotten that bit of welcome news considering the events from last night. She certainly didn’t want to miss seeing the family off. But if she followed Michelle up to the fifth floor neonatology ICU, chances were she would run into Brendan. Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. After all, the entire Lewis clan would be there, the attention focused on the Granger baby. A good place to get lost in the crowd. Besides, she enjoyed being around the close-knit family even if the matriarch, Jeanie Lewis, was a bit on the flighty side. At least Michelle and Brooke had a mother, despite her flaws.

Cassie did want to see little Matthew Granger finally free from the constraints of IVs and other equipment that had brought him to this moment. If Brendan happened to be there, she would simply deal with it.

‘‘Okay, give me a second.’’ For some reason Cassie felt the need to do a quick touch-up. She pulled a mirror and a tube of lipstick from her desk drawer. Unfortunately, her hair looked like the product of a screwdriver rammed into an electrical outlet. Not much she could do about it now.