Cindy Kirk - The Doctor's Valentine Dare

Something about the quick flash of his grin was vaguely familiar. The stranger didn’t hesitate. He leaned close and placed his mouth against hers. Unlike her experience with the sharp-eyed doctor who stood watching, this lip-lock didn’t ignite even the tiniest of sparks. Of course, that could simply be because all the fireworks had been used up moments before.

Josie stepped back and offered the stranger a smile. “Have a nice evening. Happy New Year.”

“I’ll definitely be seeing you around.” Though his voice was slightly familiar, Josie didn’t care enough to try to place him. She’d made her point.

“You don’t have a clue who he is.” Noah’s voice sounded in her ear. Though he’d kept his distance while the kiss was in progress, he stepped forward the instant the other guy walked off.

Josie lifted one shoulder in a noncommittal shrug. “Does it matter?”

“He could have been your brother.” Noah took her arm and steered her out of range of the mistletoe.

Josie stiffened, then chided herself for being so gullible. “Benedict is a good three inches taller.”

“You weren’t thinking about that when you jumped the guy,” Noah pointed out.

“I didn’t jump—” she began, then stopped when she saw the twinkle in the neurosurgeon’s eyes. “Har. Har.”

“I’d have laughed if it had been Benedict.” Noah adroitly snagged two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter. “Even better...your father.”

Josie’s gagging noise made him chuckle.

She took a sip of champagne and gazed at him through lowered lashes. With broad shoulders, long legs and a lean athletic build, the man was made for black tie. The shiny dark strands of his hair, cut a bit too short for her taste, glistened like burnished walnut in the light of the chandelier.

The fingers wrapped around his own glass of champagne were long and elegant, much like an artist’s. Then again, she supposed Noah was an artist of sorts. Instead of a garret, his studio was a brilliantly lit operating room and his brush, a scalpel.

The reminder that she’d kissed a doctor with such unrestrained passion had her wrinkling her nose.

“Is something wrong with your champagne?” He glanced around as if searching for a waiter.

“It’s not the drink, it’s you,” she blurted then waited for the disapproving look.

Instead, Noah contemplated her as if she was a puzzle he was having difficulty solving.

“You’re a doctor,” she added for clarification, then flushed. Perhaps her father had been on to something with all his “think first” admonishments.

“Not for tonight,” he said smoothly, taking her arm and moving them in the direction of the back of the house. “Tonight let me be simply the man in the black mask, who you enjoy kissing.”

“I do not, ah, did not—”

One look from those brilliant blue eyes stopped the protest. She couldn’t deny the explosive chemistry between them, any more than she could control the shivers his touch elicited.

“Are you suggesting we pretend to be someone we’re not for the evening?” Though she found the thought intriguing, Josie knew she must have misunderstood. There was no way this straitlaced, serious doctor would suggest something so daring.

An emotion she couldn’t quite decipher flickered in the depths of those amazing blue eyes. “Interested?”

Josie sipped her champagne and tried to figure out what was really going on here...

“Are you here with someone?” His tone turned brusque. “Is that the reason you’re hesitating?”

“Actually.” Josie placed a finger against lips that still tingled from his kiss. “I’m trying to decide who—or what—I want to pretend to be.”

The fingers wrapped around her arm relaxed. He lifted the champagne flute with his other hand and took a sip. “You have any thoughts?”

“Let’s play pirates,” she suggested with a cheeky smile.

He choked on his champagne.

She merely smiled and waited for him to quit sputtering.

“Are you serious?”

“Totally.”

He rubbed his chin. While he pondered the suggestion—likely creating a pro-con spreadsheet in his head—she glanced around the room.

Josie assumed most of those in attendance knew the person behind each mask. It wasn’t that easy for her. She’d been away too long.

Until she’d run across Noah, she might as well have been playing blind man’s bluff. She still didn’t understand why her employer insisted they go solo. Unless...

Could her running into Noah have been part of a plan? Pauline had certainly made it clear she’d like it if Josie helped him. “Did your grandmother know you were coming tonight?”

His brows pulled together in puzzlement. “I don’t think so. Maybe. Why?”

“No reason.” She relaxed and waved a hand. “Back to the original question. Do you want to play pirates?”

“There are so many ways to answer your question. Are we talking pillaging and plundering or do you expect me to talk like a pirate? Say things like ahoy and matey?”

The look of horror on his face made her grin. “Yer correct.”

Okay, so maybe her own pirate accent was even worse than his, but Josie was already having fun.

Noah’s obvious reticence made the playacting even more enticing. The remainder of the evening suddenly took on a glossy sheen, like the pages of a magazine she couldn’t wait to devour.

Still, Noah resisted giving his agreement.

Shoving aside the thought that this man was just like her father and therefore someone to be given a wide berth, Josie extended her hand. “Don’t be an ol’ chumbucket, Cap’n. Put yer hand here and shake on the deal.”

* * *

Noah stared at the dainty hand with the pink nails. Just when he thought the evening couldn’t get any stranger, it did.

He took her hand. The feel of her skin against his put all sorts of thoughts in his head. Actually, the thoughts had been there since he’d first seen her tonight.

The vivid blue cocktail dress had drawn his gaze to her breasts and the legs that appeared to go on forever. Certain parts of his anatomy had immediately sprung to life.

When his lips joined hers under the mistletoe and she’d let out a breathy moan, he’d nearly lost it. Stepping back before he did something crazy like slinging her over his shoulder and going belowdecks to find a free bunk, had been the sanest thing he’d done all evening.

Why was he even considering going along with such a ridiculous suggestion? Pretending to be a pirate at a formal New Year’s Eve masquerade ball fell into the realm of a Saturday Night Live skit. “I’ve been thinking about your pirate suggestion.”

Her smile disappeared and wariness returned to her eyes.

The solid ground beneath his feet began to shift and crumble. Noah knew, just as surely as he knew that the body contained 100-160 ml of cerebral spinal fluid, that if he backed out now, she would walk away.

He shoved aside his reservation and his good sense. “Yer suggestion, it be a fine one.”

Noah wasn’t sure which one of them was more surprised by the sentiment. He liked games well enough as long as they had well-defined parameters and clear, concise rules. Rules and standard procedures gave life order. Noah concluded his agreement to Josie’s odd request illustrated that, contrary to what his family thought, he was very capable of being spontaneous. He could live on the edge. At least for one evening.

“I became a pirate because I love adventure,” Josie confided in a hushed whisper, as if imparting a great secret.

They reached the edge of the dance floor and he took her into his arms. They began to move in time to the music.

“There’s so much to see, to experience,” she continued in an earnest voice.