“Why Did You Kiss Me That Way?” She Demanded.

“That way?” Seth asked. “Well, that particular kiss—number seven—just happens to be the best way I know how,” he quipped.

She didn’t alter her expression. “But why did you do it?”

“Why did you let me?”

She shook her head. “Don’t ever do that again.”

Seth inhaled a slow, steadying breath. “Then tell me, Prudence, what do you want? I seem to recall something of a personal nature that you needed to discuss with me—alone.”

“I want you…” Her voice trailed off.

Hope flickered inside Seth. “You want me?”

He arched an eyebrow quizzically.

“I mean—” She inhaled one more breath, and released it in a rush of words. “I want you—need you—to be my husband.”

Dear Reader,

Twenty years ago in May, the first Silhouette romance was published, and in 2000 we’re celebrating our 20th anniversary all year long! Celebrate with us—and start with six powerful, passionate, provocative love stories from Silhouette Desire.

Elizabeth Bevarly offers a MAN OF THE MONTH so tempting that we decided to call it Dr. Irresistible! Enjoy this sexy tale about a single-mom nurse who enlists a handsome doctor to pose as her husband at her tenth high school reunion. The wonderful miniseries LONE STAR FAMILIES: THE LOGANS, by bestselling author Leanne Banks, continues with Expecting His Child, a sensual romance about a woman carrying the child of her family’s nemesis after a stolen night of passion.

Ever-talented Cindy Gerard returns to Desire with In His Loving Arms, in which a pregnant widow is reunited with the man who’s haunted her dreams for seven years. Sheikhs abound in Alexandra Sellers’ Sheikh’s Honor, a new addition to her dramatic miniseries SONS OF THE DESERT. The Desire theme promotion, THE BABY BANK, about women who find love unexpectedly when seeking sperm donors, continues with Metsy Hingle’s The Baby Bonus. And newcomer Kathie DeNosky makes her Desire debut with Did You Say Married?!, in which the heroine wakes up in Vegas next to a sexy cowboy who turns out to be her newly wed husband.

What a lineup! So this May, for Mother’s Day, why not treat your mom—and yourself—to all six of these highly sensual and emotional love stories from Silhouette Desire!

Enjoy!

Joan Marlow Golan

Senior Editor, Silhouette Desire

Dr. Irresistible
Elizabeth Bevarly

www.millsandboon.co.uk

For Eli,

my little guy,

who is truly irresistible.

ELIZABETH BEVARLY

is an honors graduate of the University of Louisville and achieved her dream of writing full-time before she even turned thirty! At heart, she is also an avid voyager who once helped navigate a friend’s thirty-five-foot sailboat across the Bermuda Triangle. Her dream is to one day have her own sailboat, a beautifully renovated older-model forty-two-footer, and to enjoy the freedom and tranquillity seafaring can bring. Elizabeth likes to think she has a lot in common with the characters she creates, people who know love and life go hand in hand. And she’s getting some firsthand experience with motherhood, as well—she and her husband have a six-year-old son, Eli.

Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Epilogue

One

Dr. Seth Mahoney fingered the scalpel in his left hand gingerly, wondering where, exactly, to begin the incision he needed to make. The nurse standing beside him, who gazed over his shoulder, likewise pondered the heart that lay waiting for cutting, but she said nothing to inspire Seth’s decision. It was a tricky business, how to proceed, and there was an enormous amount of pressure on him to do this correctly. The happiness of more than a few people depended on the success of this operation.

For long moments he pondered his dilemma. Should he cut straight up and down? Or across the middle? Diagonally? If so, which way? From left auricle to right ventricle? Or from left ventricle to right auricle? And which ones were the auricles, anyway? Top or bottom? He always had gotten auricles and ventricles confused. And how many pieces was he supposed to cut the heart into again? He’d forgotten.

Finally, unable to decide how best to perform this particular procedure and, quite frankly, at his wit’s end, Seth muttered, “Ah, what the hell.” Then he curled his fist around the scalpel’s handle and, with one fierce jab, drove it deep into the center of the heart.

“Oh, nicely done, Dr. Mahoney,” the nurse beside him muttered wryly. “I bet you’re the kind of guy who runs with scissors, too, aren’t you?”

“Hey, cut me some slack, Renee,” he countered, spinning around to face her full-on. With much exasperation, he ran both hands through his pale-blond hair, then doubled them into fists on his Dockers-clad hips. “You act like this is such a big deal. I mean, jeez, it’s not brain surgery, you know.”

And of course he himself did know. He was one of New Jersey’s—hey, perhaps one of the nation’s—leading neurosurgeons. He just didn’t know squat about hearts, that was all.

Especially hearts made of cake.

“Congratulations on your engagement, Renee,” he muttered to the room at large. He left the scalpel where it lay, jutting garishly out of the blood-red icing. “I’m just so damned happy for you, I can’t stand it. Nor can I cut this cake. You guys are on your own.”

Hell, let everybody cut their own pieces, he thought. How was he supposed to get two dozen slices of equal size from such a strangely shaped confection, anyway? “Some of us have pulled double duty and would like to go home,” he continued irritably. “Now if you’ll excuse me…?”

As an afterthought he withdrew the scalpel, intent on returning it to the OR, from which he’d filched it in the first place. But before he could even complete one step toward the exit, the entreaties began in earnest.

“Oh, come on, Dr. Mahoney,” a collection of voices cajoled. Nurses, doctors and orderlies alike begged his forgiveness and urged him to stay.

“We’re sorry, Seth…”

“We didn’t mean it…”

“We were just kidding…”

“We’ll let you have the biggest piece…”

“You’re the only one who knows how to do this right…”

“We need that scalpel—we couldn’t find a knife…”

But their gentle wheedling did little to soothe him. He was tired, he was irritable, he’d had a rotten day and he wanted to go home. The last thing he wanted to do was join his colleagues in a party to celebrate the upcoming marriage of one of their own. It was just too fitting a Friday punctuation mark for what had been a lousy week.

Nothing had seemed to go right today. Nothing. His BMW roadster had made funny noises all the way to work this morning, and he—he, Dr. Seth Mahoney, ace mechanic—couldn’t for the life of him figure out what was wrong with it. He’d been drenched by rain as he’d sprinted from the parking lot to the hospital, because he—he, Dr. Seth Mahoney, mind like a steel trap—had forgotten his umbrella. And as he’d changed into his scrubs, he’d realized that he—he, Dr. Seth Mahoney, sartorial wonder—was wearing one black sock and one gray sock.

Fortunately Mrs. Hammelman’s surgery had gone well. He was, after all, one of New Jersey’s—hey, perhaps one of the nation’s—leading neurosurgeons. But everything else that day had been a mess. The cafeteria had been out of club sandwiches by the time he’d found a minute to grab lunch. The soda machine had been out of Orange Crush when he’d gone on a break. Then the ATM in the lobby had told him that he—he, Dr. Seth Mahoney, financial wizard—was overdrawn a full $3.86. And he’d had a pounding headache for the past three hours that simply would not be assuaged.

And to top it all off it was Friday, and he—he, Dr. Seth Mahoney, object of many a woman’s desire—did not have a date.

He didn’t have a date, he marveled for perhaps the hundredth time. How on earth could such a thing have happened?

By now he’d had enough of the hospital and its denizens, and he wanted to go home. Home, where he could kick off his shoes, and his mismatched socks, fix himself a club sandwich—which would be better than the hospital’s, anyway—open an Orange Crush, and call the bank to yell at someone about his ridiculous, and certainly nonexistent, overdraft.

Of course, the date part was going to be something of a problem, he mused sullenly. He couldn’t think of anyone else to ask out—no one who would say yes, at any rate—and he wasn’t much for inflatable women. Then again, the way today had been going, he was sorely tempted to—

The thought never fully materialized in his brain, thanks to the woman who breezed into the room just then. He couldn’t quite curb the soft smile he felt curling his lips when he noted her arrival. Prudence Holloway, the most bewitching, bothering and bewildering woman he had ever had the dubious good fortune to encounter. And the most inappropriately named, too, he recalled, his smile growing broader.

Prudence, he thought. What had her parents been thinking?

Well, well, well. Maybe he didn’t have to beat such a hasty retreat just yet.

“Hi, everybody,” she said breathlessly to the room at large.

She raked a restive hand through the mop of dark-auburn curls that danced atop her head with the rush of her movements. Although he had always been partial to long hair on women, somehow Seth was grateful that Prudence’s unruly tresses weren’t quite lengthy enough to cover her nape. She had a nice neck. Among other things.

Inescapably, his gaze fell to the top half of the shapeless, raspberry-colored nurse’s scrubs. Although he had no foundation for his suspicions—God knew Prudence wouldn’t let him get within arm’s reach of her, more’s the pity—he was fairly certain that the baggy garment hid some truly spectacular and decidedly dangerous curves.

The only time he’d seen her out of her scrubs, she’d been in something else—more’s the pity—namely maternity clothes, generally made out of some awful awning-like fabric and decorated with bows and frippery that no self-respecting woman would dare don when she was unpregnant. Prudence had been huge, unwieldy and irascible during her pregnancy, Seth recalled wistfully. And during that entire nine-month span, he’d been even more enchanted by her than ever. Because Prudence Holloway was just too adorable to ever be anything but…well…adorable.

Ever since he’d come to work at Seton General Hospital two years ago, Seth had been utterly enraptured by Nurse Prudence Holloway. Why? He had no idea. Maybe because her pale-green eyes were so expressive and held no secrets. Maybe because her lush mouth, whether smiling or frowning, open or closed, could incite a man to commit mayhem. Maybe because he had noticed right off that she had a wry sense of humor and quick wit. Maybe because she had been so huge and irascible during her pregnancy. He hated to say it, but she was just so damned cute when she was angry.

Or maybe it was just because, even when she wasn’t pregnant, she continued to be, if not huge, then certainly irascible. At least around Seth. And he simply was not accustomed to having women respond to him in a way that was anything but enraptured. Even complete strangers succumbed to his abundant charm. Prudence, however, had been anything but charmed by him. Even after two years, her resolve to avoid and deter him had eroded not one iota.

Two years ago Seth had assured himself that her less-than-eager response to his more-than-obvious allure had resulted from the fact that she was seeing someone. She’d been blinded—who knows why, when she could have had Seth?—by some geek named Kevin who had worked as a pump jockey in a less-than-profitable filling station.

And then, after that relationship had fizzled, and Prudence continued to avoid Seth, he had excused her disinterest in his none-too-subtle advances as being due to her delicate condition. Because she was out of sorts and uncomfortable in her pregnant state, and romance was understandably the last thing on her mind. He’d even thought her lack of response might be because she was still carrying a torch for that geek Kevin—though such a commitment to a man hadn’t kept other women from succumbing to Seth before. On many occasions.

Not that he would ever pursue a married woman, of course. He simply never felt hindered in his flirtations by a woman’s marital state. Or her background. Or her foreground. Or her middle ground. Or her age, race, creed, color, species or planetary origin. And he saw no harm in engaging in the occasional flip comment whenever there was a beautiful woman around.

And naturally, to Seth, all women fell into that beautiful category. And he—he, Dr. Seth Mahoney, lover of women—was simply predisposed to flirting with anything that produced estrogen. Prudence Holloway was no exception.

Except…

Except that Seth couldn’t seem to stop flirting with her, even though she’d made it more than clear over the past two years that she did not intend to indulge his efforts. And that was something he simply could not understand. Because, simply put, there was no Mr. Prudence Holloway. Nor did there seem to be a Mr. Prudence Holloway in training anywhere. And her obviously—and adamantly—single status was something that only fueled Seth’s, oh…idle curiosity about the nurse.

And it had naturally caused him to pump up the volume on his flirtations, too. He’d even ventured to ask her out once or twice—or fifty-seven times, but then, who was counting? But she’d always declined. Politely at first, then with more gusto. He supposed it had been the time he’d dropped onto his knees before her in the OR and begged her to go out with him that had promoted the gusto on her part, but still…

The least she could do was return his flirtations, even if she had no interest in carrying through with them. Hey, any other nurse would do the same. It was only polite. But not Prudence. Noooo. She constantly rebuffed him.

Him. Dr. Seth Mahoney. Dr. Irresistible.

How could she do such a thing?

In the long run Seth had finally given up asking her out, when it became clear that she would never, ever, not in a million billion trillion zillion years, not if he was the last man on the planet, dead or alive, go out with him. He knew that, because she’d told him that. In exactly those words. And the fact that he—he, Dr. Seth Mahoney, a prince among men—had failed in his quest to curry fair Prudence’s favor did not sit well with him at all.

Still, he no longer asked her out. But he hadn’t stopped his entirely one-sided and unreturned flirting. Nor had he stopped fantasizing about her during his off hours. Or during his on hours, for that matter. Like right now, for instance. As his thoughts drifted off to the sublime, Prudence tossed a Tupperware container full of what appeared to be…springerlies, if Seth wasn’t mistaken…onto the table with the other baked goods that each member of the neurology unit had brought for today’s party to celebrate their co-worker’s engagement.

Unfortunately, Prudence being Prudence, she put just a little too much effort into the action, something that resulted in sending the container careering down the entire length of the table. Not just that, but it ricocheted off every other container in its way, and sent nearly half of them tumbling over the edge of the table before falling and spilling open itself.

Yep, springerlies for sure, Seth thought as they went skittering across the floor. Broken springerlies now. Broken springerlies with, he noted further, black, burned-to-a-crisp bottoms.

What had her parents been thinking when they named her Prudence?

She didn’t even seem to notice what had happened, so automatic were her gestures as she went to clean up the mess. Then again, Seth thought, this was pretty much standard procedure for her, from what he’d witnessed in the past, so it was really no surprise that she found this to be no surprise.

“I’m sorry I’m so late,” she said as she collected crushed cookies from the floor, speaking, evidently, to both nobody and everybody in the room. “Tanner was so into the separation thing today. I didn’t think I’d ever get away from the day-care center.”

Tanner, Seth knew, was Prudence’s nine-month-old son, whose acquaintance he had first made when the lad was all of ten hours old. Although Seth worked in neurology, he often spent his breaks and lunch hours in the hospital nursery, not just to cozy up to the neonatal nurses—who were notoriously, in a word, hot—but also to cozy up to their infant charges—who were notoriously, in a word, adorable.

To put it mildly, Seth had a real soft spot for kids. Someday he hoped to have one or two—or ten—of his own. And now, at the ripe old age of thirty-three, he was beginning to think seriously about the whole family thing. The problem was, biologically speaking, anyway, he himself didn’t have all the necessary equipment for creating a family. In addition to a womb, he was going to need a second set of chromosomes for everything to work out the way it was supposed to work out. And so far he just hadn’t met the right second set of chromosomes. Or the right womb, for that matter.

And lately he was beginning to think he never would.

For some reason that thought sent his gaze bouncing from the top half of Prudence’s scrubs to the bottom half, which was currently sticking out from beneath the table as she reached for the last of the broken cookies. Yep. Nice curves indeed. Nice, round, lush, fertile curves, he couldn’t help but notice. And he’d seen her with her son on a number of occasions. A more loving woman didn’t exist anywhere in this universe.

Well, loving toward her son, at any rate, he amended. Where men were concerned, however, Prudence was considerably more…prudent. These days, at least. There had been a time, however, when… Well. Tanner was a pretty good indicator of Prudence’s past where men were concerned. Still, she seemed to have learned her lesson there. Because she definitely kept her distance from the male half of the population these days. Much to Seth’s unrelenting frustration.

“So the little tike was out of sorts today was he?” Seth asked as he approached her, knowing beforehand that she would respond to his query with a brittle smile.

Ah. Bingo. There it was now. As she backed herself out from under the table, she threw that smile over her shoulder at him, and wham. It hit its mark perfectly. Then there was another wham, but this time it was Prudence’s head hitting the edge of the table as she tried to rise to standing.

“Ow,” Seth said. “That had to hurt.” Again, what had her parents been thinking?

Since the observation really required no comment, Prudence offered none. Instead, she finally pushed herself to standing and rubbed lightly at the crown of her head. But all she said was, “Yes. Tanner was out of sorts today. But it’s not at all unusual for babies of nine months to go through separation anxiety like that,” she added in the voice of experience.

“I don’t doubt it for a moment,” Seth concurred jovially. “It’s not unusual for men of thirty-three, either.” There. Let her make what she would of that.

What she made, he noted, was a funny little squinting type of face, an expression that made him smile. God, she was cute. And she really did have a nice neck. But she said nothing to demand clarification for his comment. Which was just as well, because he wasn’t sure he wanted to clarify it—either to her, or to himself.

So instead he returned his attention to the heart-shaped cake on the table before him. Fine. He had the last scalpel available. It was nice to know he was wanted for some- thing. Impulsively he decided that he would cut the cake—and idly ogle Prudence—stay long enough to consume a piece himself—and idly ogle Prudence—then he’d go home to lick his wounds—and idly fantasize about Prudence.

Carefully he bisected the confection from north to south and east to west, not worrying about whether the sizes were consistent. Everyone present in the break room was a medical professional, he reminded himself. Surely they could manage these small discrepancies without resorting to fisticuffs.

After completing his task, Seth filled a plate with several of the homemade delicacies that constituted the celebratory buffet, then wasn’t much surprised to find himself standing near—gosh, what do you know?—Prudence.

He always gravitated toward her, no matter where either of them happened to be. It was some kind of strange torture game he played with himself. He didn’t for a moment understand his fascination with her, nor did he pursue it these days—not with any real enthusiasm. Not in any way that she would notice, at any rate. Nor in any way that anyone else would notice, either, for that matter.

At least, he hoped nobody else noticed. It would be so embarrassing to be thought of as pathetic. Even if pathetic was exactly the way he felt around Prudence Holloway. Even if pathetic was how he was beginning to think he was destined to be.

Though Seth never lacked for feminine companionship—well, never except today, he reminded himself morosely—the companionship with which he usually found himself generally left him reluctant to continue the relationship for very long. These days it seemed as though his temporary relationships were growing more and more temporary and he was feeling less and less satisfaction from them. Why that might be he couldn’t possibly say. But there was no question that it was getting harder and harder to feel fulfilled in his personal life.

Not to be misconstrued, however—Seth did like women, very much. All women, in fact. And until he’d met Prudence, until he’d spent time with her—most of it indulging in good-natured sparring—he’d been perfectly content with the variety of his social life. But lately, for…oh, about the past two years…the variety he had once found so enjoyable was somehow beginning to lose its appeal.

Living his life day by day, and woman by woman, had all been well and good for a while—actually, it had been all very good—but there was a restlessness rising in Seth of late that he would just as soon quell. Mainly because he suspected that it was a restlessness born of the desire to settle down. And settling down wouldn’t be a problem, except for the fact that he didn’t think he could manage it. He was socially gregarious by nature, and he had the attention span of a rabid badger. He wasn’t sure he’d be good in a family situation, in spite of his affinity for children. He just wasn’t a one-woman man.

He reminded himself that he was only thirty-three, that he still had plenty of years left before he was so doddering that he wouldn’t be able to bounce a baby on his knee. Then he remembered that at thirty-three most men were at least attached to someone special. Hell, even his best friend, Reed Atchison, whom Seth had never thought to see attached, had recently married. Now he and his wife, Mindy, were expecting the arrival of their first child any minute.

Without meaning to, Seth let his gaze wander over to Prudence once again. She really was lovely, he thought. And she was a warm, witty, gentle woman—with others, at any rate, in spite of her prickliness where he was concerned. He just wished he could understand why she wanted nothing to do with him. And then for some reason—probably because after the day he’d had he was spoiling for a fight—Seth decided to find out.

“So, Prudence,” he began, heedless of the fact that he was interrupting her conversation with another nurse. “You’re pulling second shift on a Friday. How did that happen? Won’t it play havoc with your plans for a romantic evening?”

With obvious reluctance she turned to face him, her expression one of unmistakable, and perfectly expected, annoyance. “Not that it’s any of your business,” she began lightly, “but I don’t have any plans for a romantic evening.”

“How shocking,” Seth remarked.

“Ramona needed the night off, and I was available,” Prudence said with finality.

“You’re never available for me,” he pointed out, loving the way her mouth tightened into a disapproving little moue at his comment. Oh, she was soooo transparent. She wanted him. He was—almost—sure of it.

She narrowed her eyes at him. “There’s a good reason for that,” she said.

“But you’ve never seen fit to tell me what it is.”

She shrugged, but there wasn’t an ounce of carelessness in the gesture. “I figure you’re a big boy, a smart guy. You have a college degree, and—”

“Three of them, actually,” Seth supplied helpfully, holding up his left hand with that many fingers to punctuate the claim.

“—and I knew you could figure it out for yourself,” she finished, ignoring his interjection.

He pressed his index finger against his cheek and, for a moment, feigned deep consideration. Then, after a moment, he told her, “Nope. Sorry. Can’t figure it out. You’ll just have to spell it out for me.”

She smiled mildly at him, but there was no warmth in the gesture. Seth could tell, because the temperature in the room seemed to drop twenty degrees at least as she completed it. “Gosh, then I guess you’re just not the big Mr. Know-It-All you thought you were, are you?”

Seth sniffed indignantly. “Hey, that’s Dr. Know-It-All to you, Prudence,” he countered.

“And that’s Ms. Holloway, to you, Dr. Know-It-All.”

He sidled up closer to her, mainly because he knew it bugged the hell out of her whenever he sidled in her presence. But for every step he took toward her, she took a step back. The nurse with whom she’d been conversing seemed to sense that her presence was no longer noticed, and slipped off nearly undetected. Seth braved another small step toward Prudence, and she, in turn, claimed another giant step in retreat. Doing so, however, rather impeded her progress, because it left her flat against the wall, just inches from a corner that effectively closed the trap.

Such an imprudent move on her part, Seth thought.

He smiled his most predatory smile, set down his plate of goodies and covered what little distance between them remained. Then he flattened one palm against the wall near her head and opened the other on the wall at his shoulder level. At last, he thought, he had fair Prudence where he wanted her.

Now if he could just get rid of the dozen other people present, maybe he could coax her around to his way of thinking. His way of thinking being, of course, that the two of them belonged together. Preferably close together. Preferably naked. Preferably horizontal. Though there was a lot to be said for vertical, too….

“You know,” he murmured smoothly, bringing his face closer to hers—no easy feat, seeing as how she stood a good eight inches shorter than he. “A lot of the nurses here—a lot of the doctors, too—call me something other than Dr. Know-It-All.”

“Do tell,” she remarked dryly.

She almost convinced him that she was completely unmoved by his nearness, but Seth, ever vigilant, had noted the way the pulse at the base of her throat had quickened when he drew closer. Now he noted further that, currently, that pulse was pretty much dancing a samba. He also saw that her cheeks had warmed to pink, that her eyelids were lowering over darkly passionate eyes, and that her lips had parted in faint—but undeniable—desire.

Well, well, well, what have we here? he wondered. He hadn’t had a chemistry lesson like this since he was an undergrad. Who knew?

He inhaled a slow, deep breath, then released it leisurely, intentionally fanning the bare skin of her throat when he did. Again her pulse jumped, and her pupils dilated to nearly eclipse the pale green of her irises. Oh, she did have lovely eyes, he thought. Lovely, radiant, passionate eyes.

Eyes that held no secrets.

And for the first time in two years, Seth began to realize that Prudence wasn’t quite as unaffected by him as she tried to let on. Now if he could just get her to admit that to herself….

“No, what they call me behind my back,” he said softly, “is Dr…. Irresistible. Of course, I myself,” he hastily qualified, “much prefer Dr. Irrepressible, which, to my way of thinking, suits me much better. Dr. Irresistible is just a tad forward, don’t you think? I would never presume to be irresistible. Even if,” he couldn’t quite stop himself from adding, “many women do find me just that.”

Prudence expelled a sound that was decidedly unimpressed. But her pulse still jumped, and her eyes still grew dangerously dark. “Yeah, and some of them,” she said, just a little shakily, Seth noticed, “me included, call you Dr.—”

Quickly, he moved one hand to her hair, skimming his palm deftly over the dark curls in an effort to unbalance her and to cut off whatever she had been about to say. And, he might as well just admit it, because it was something he’d been wanting to do for a long, long time.

“—Insufferable,” she finished, anyway, jerking her head to the side in an effort to end his soft caress. “They—and I—call you Dr. Insufferable.”

Well, this was news to Seth. No one, absolutely no one—no one of the feminine persuasion, at any rate—found him insufferable. Inspirational, impressive, incomparable, intrepid, sure. And of course, irresistible. And okay, maybe impertinent, impetuous, irreverent and incorrigible, on occasion. But insufferable? Him? No way. That was…inconceivable.

Seth shook his head—imperceptibly—and forced himself to turn the page in his mental thesaurus. Unfortunately, moving from the letter I just landed him with a bunch of J words—jerk, jester, juvenile, for example—which were no help at all. So he turned his attention back to the matter at hand.

“Prudence,” he said, swallowing a chuckle, as always overcome by the inappropriateness of her name, “I think you’re making that up.”

The sound she expelled this time was even less impressed than the last one she’d made—but was still much too shaky for it to be nonchalant. “You have no idea,” she told him.

He nodded. Of that, if nothing else, he was certain. Where Prudence Holloway was concerned, he never knew quite what to think. In spite of his conviction, however, he murmured, “Oh, really? Funny, but I actually have a few ideas where you’re concerned.”

“None of them decent, I’m sure,” she said.

He smiled. “Well, of course not. Where would be the fun in that?”

“Dr. Mahoney,” she began.

“Seth,” he quickly corrected her. “How many times have I asked you to call me Seth?”

“Dr. Mahoney,” she tried again, more forcefully this time. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m due at the nurses’ station.”

Her voice was breathless and a couple of octaves lower than normal. Something about it made Seth’s blood run hot—well, hotter than usual, anyway—and he couldn’t quite bring himself to move out of her way, even though that was clearly what she was instructing him to do. He only continued to study her face and to lightly twine a dark curl around his index finger. And he realized then that the color of her eyes reminded him of the shallow waters that lapped at Caribbean beaches.

Someday, he thought, letting his mental meanderings drift to fantasies again, maybe she’d accompany him on a little trip down to that part of the world. They could charter a sailboat, just the two of them, and sail indolently from one tranquil harbor to another. They could make sweet love beneath a blue sky and fiery sun, swim naked in cool waters, and then, when the moon hung high in the sky like a bright silver dollar, make love again. Yeah, if only she’d—

“Now.”

That single word, uttered with such force and insistence, snapped Seth right back to the present. Fine. She didn’t want to take a little sentimental journey right now. He could handle that. He could. He had other things he had to do, anyway. Like go home—alone—and eat dinner—alone—and spend Friday night doing nothing—alone.

Damn, he hated being alone.

As he took a step backward—a very slow step backward—he realized he simply could not let Prudence go without making one last effort to win her over.

“So you’ll be getting off at eleven tonight, right?” he asked smoothly. “Still time to enjoy a romantic evening with someone you love.”

She smiled seductively at his suggestion, then nodded slowly, temptingly, as she unfolded her fingers over the center of his chest. At her unexpected, not-so-subtle acquiescence, Seth’s heart began to hammer hard in his chest, his body heat shot up into triple figures, and his libido hummed with anticipation. Wow. This was going to be easier than he thought.

“You know,” she said in a low, throaty voice, “you’re right. I will have time to spend the evening with someone I love. And I know just the guy I’d like to spend it with.”

Seth’s heart took flight at the look in her eyes. Finally she was coming around. Finally she would admit what he’d known all along. Finally she was going to accept the fact that the two of them were meant for each other. At least for one delirious evening.

“Do you now?” he asked.

She nodded that slow, seductive nod again, smiled that tempting little smile. “Oh, yeah. He’s gorgeous, smart, fun to be around…”

“Yes?” Seth prodded.

“He’s someone I’m looking forward to spending, not just the evening, but the entire night with.”

“Do tell.”

“And not just tonight, either, but every night.”

“Yes?”

“For a long, long time.”

“Oh, Prudence,” Seth murmured low, for her ears only. “It’s about time you accepted the unavoidable fact of what’s happening between us.”

He was reaching up to cover her hand with his when her charming smile turned menacing. Before he realized what was happening, she flattened her palm fiercely and shoved him backward. Hard. He righted himself just before toppling backward onto his…his…pride, but could do nothing about the heat of embarrassment that flamed inside him as he watched her move easily away.

“My son,” she tossed over her shoulder as she went. “I plan to spend this evening, and every other evening I have available, with Tanner.” And with that, she spun around and left the break room, without a backward glance.

You idiot, Seth chastised himself as he watched her go. When would he learn? Prudence Holloway had never, did never, would never, want him. Why couldn’t he just leave it alone? Why did he keep going back for more, when it was abundantly clear that his efforts were pointless?

Because he just couldn’t stay away, he answered himself immediately. That was why. She was Nurse Irresistible. And besides, there was a hint of something…something indefinable…in her eyes whenever she looked at him. He couldn’t quite say for sure what it was, but it was there whenever he drew close enough to see it. And it was that something indefinable that held Seth in thrall. Until he could find out exactly what it was that bound the two of them—because there was most definitely something binding them—he couldn’t let it go.

He told himself that it was the heat of two dozen eyes on his back—and not because Prudence had shoved him aside—that made him lose his appetite. He spun around as quickly as she had, only to find everyone else in the room dropping their gazes hastily to their plates. Sheepishly he tugged his necktie to straighten it, then rolled his shoulders as if totally unconcerned.

Then, to the room at large, he said, “She wants me. You know she wants me. It’s obvious. I’m—almost—sure of it.”

As he had known it would, a ripple of laughter lightened the mood, and Seth punctuated it with a dashing smile of his own. It was widely known at Seton General that he and Prudence indulged in such antics frequently. Everyone knew it was all in fun. Everyone knew it was all in jest. Everyone knew that Seth wasn’t really as crazy about Prudence as he let on. And everyone knew that Prudence was being a good sport about it all.

Everyone knew that.

Everyone except Seth. And maybe, just maybe, Prudence. He only wished he knew what to do about clarifying it all for the two of them. And he only wished he could put whatever it was burning between them to rest, once and for all.

Two

Even after detouring through the women’s room on her way, by the time Pru sat down at the nurses’ station in neurology, she still hadn’t quite recovered from her little…whatever it had been…with Dr. Mahoney. Her heart was still hammering hard in her chest, her blood was still fizzing at light speed through her veins, the strings of her heart were still zinging to beat the band, and her brain was a muddled mass of confusion and—dammit—desire.

Worse than all that, however, her stomach was grumbling hungrily in protest of the fact that it had been anticipating a plate full of cookies by now. Hey, too bad, Pru told her noisy belly. There was nothing to be done for it. No way would she go back to that break room as long as Seth Mahoney was still in the building. Or still in the state of New Jersey, for that matter.

Boy, she’d really been looking forward to scarfing up a few of those springerlies, too, broken, burned bottoms and all. She’d had to miss lunch today, because Tanner had been clingy and fretful, and she just hadn’t had it in her to disregard his demands.

He was such a great kid, after all, and normally made surprisingly few demands on her. Usually he was a pretty free-wheeling, independent little guy, which had made his moodiness today all the more distressing. And since he’d been so unwilling to part with Pru at the hospital’s day care center, she’d used up what little time she had left before her shift to play with him and read to him, in the hope that it would make his transition a little easier.

Ultimately that plan had worked out nicely. By the time she’d left him in the care of her good buddy, Teresa, the little guy was cooing and laughing and having a great time. But then Pru had been cranky and out of sorts, thanks to being so hungry. She’d planned on eating enough cookies to tide her over until her 6:30 dinner break. But she wasn’t about to return to the neurology department’s engagement party for Renee, with Dr. Mahoney on the make.

Then again, she thought dryly, when was Seth Mahoney not on the make? He was the biggest lurer of women to come along since a snake unwound itself from around an apple tree. And she did not want to find herself the object of his temptation. Again. It had been hard enough to resist him the first time he’d tried tempting her—which had been about thirty seconds after starting his first shift at Seton General two years ago. The second time he had tried tempting her had been even more difficult—and had been about forty-five seconds after starting his first shift at Seton General two years ago. Not to mention the third time—sixty seconds after starting his first shift. And the fourth time, at two minutes. And the…

Well, it just never got any easier, that was all. And just how dumb did that make her, wanting to succumb to a man like him, even if she had been successful—so far—in keeping her distance? Seth Mahoney was the very last kind of man Pru needed in her life. He was incorrigible. Immature. Impulsive. Even if he was Dr. Irresistible.

Which, fine, she conceded, was a suitable enough nickname for him, because he was sort of…you know…irresistible. But that was only because he was charming and cute and, okay, a little adorable, too, in a blond, blue-eyed, all-American-boy kind of way. And, okay, so maybe there were times—not that many, though—when Pru caught herself ogling him as he strode down a hallway or when she ran into him in the cafeteria or some such thing.

And yeah, yeah, sure, okay, he showed up in her dreams on occasion, in a fashion that was anything but professional—mainly because he was undressed and the two of them were…well, never mind. And all right, yes, truth be told, she’d even fantasized about him once or twice when she was fully conscious and he was fully clothed.

But honestly. A more philandering, womanizing playboy she had never met. Ever since his arrival at Seton General, Seth Mahoney had left a string of broken hearts, of both the RN and MD variety, in his glorious, blond, blue-eyed wake. He was everything she didn’t want or need in a man. Succumbing to him would be…would be…

Well, it would be totally irresponsible.

And irresponsible was the one thing that Pru Holloway totally, absolutely, definitely, unequivocally, at all costs, avoided being. These days, at least. No way would she tolerate being called irresponsible. So no way was she going to take up with Seth Mahoney.

He was in no way husband-and-father material, and these days that was exactly what Pru wanted and needed—and deserved—in a man. Someone who was upright, forthright, do right. Someone who wanted to build a family, not abandon one. Seth Mahoney had way too much in common with Tanner’s father, she recalled, not for the first time. Both were golden-haired, ocean-eyed charmers. Both had a way of making a woman—any woman—feel as if she were their one-and-only, forever-after kind of love. Both were totally irresistible.

And both had the emotional maturity of thirteen-year-olds.

A year and a half ago, the day Pru had realized she was pregnant, she had hesitated before telling her boyfriend, Kevin, the news. She’d been stunned at first by the knowledge of her impending motherhood—the two of them had been using birth control but had become part of that slight percentage of failure. Yet after giving her condition some serious thought, Pru had been surprised to discover, even then, that she wasn’t all that upset to find herself pregnant.

In the long run—once the shock had worn off, anyway—she’d come to understand that it wasn’t the idea of impending motherhood that had really bothered her then. No, what had really bothered her had been the idea of marrying Kevin. As much as she’d told herself she loved the guy, Pru just hadn’t been able to quite visualize living with him…day after day after day…week after week after week…month after month after month…for the rest of her natural life. Deep down she’d known, even then, that he wasn’t a forever-after kind of guy.

But she had wanted to behave responsibly, and that meant telling Kevin he would be a father and then marrying Kevin so that their baby would benefit from the presence of two loving parents. Unfortunately, she discovered right away that there were a couple of unforeseen factors she hadn’t fully considered where their relationship was concerned. One of those factors was that Kevin was a complete jerk. The other factor was that said jerk took off for Jerkland the day after Pru broke the news to him, and he was never heard from again.

They had made a date to meet for dinner, to talk about their situation once Kevin had had twenty-four hours to get used to the idea of his impending fatherhood. But Kevin had evidently decided what he wanted to do in about twenty-four seconds. Because he never showed up at the restaurant. And when Pru went to his apartment, she discovered that it had been cleaned out. Completely. When she went to the Chevron station where he worked, she was told he had quit his job that morning and had left no forwarding address where he could be contacted. According to his boss, he’d cited “family problems” as the reason for his abrupt departure.

Yeah, right. Family problems, Pru repeated to herself now. His problem was that he hadn’t wanted a family.

She sighed with heartfelt frustration, pushed the sad memories away and sat down in her chair at the nurses’ station. She knew she was better off this way, that any life she might have tried to build with Kevin would have come tumbling down around her feet in no time flat. Better that she had discovered what kind of man he was before Tanner’s birth, than to risk having Tanner grow attached to his father and suffer the grief of his loss.

A baby needed to be loved and wanted. Kevin had obviously felt neither emotion for his son, and Tanner would have eventually figured that out. But Pru had enough love and want in her heart for two people and then some, and she gave it all to her child. Someday, she was confident, she would meet a man with whom she could share those feelings, too, a man who would be both perfect husband and perfect father material. For now, however, she was truly content to be alone.

Well, pretty content to be alone, at any rate. Kind of content. In a way. Being alone was certainly better than being with someone who didn’t love her. Of that much she was absolutely sure.

“Why, Prudence Holloway, as I live and breathe!”

Pru’s head snapped up at the summons, and her gaze fell on a woman who appeared to have exited from one of the patient rooms that surrounded the nurses’ station. She studied the woman intently in silence for a moment, and although she looked a bit familiar, Pru couldn’t quite place where she might have met her.

“Yes?” she said, not quite able to hide her confusion. “I’m Pru Holloway. Can I help you?”

The woman drew nearer and frowned at her, but the gesture seemed playful somehow. She wore a pale-lavender dress that shimmered beneath the fluorescent lighting overhead in a way that only pure silk can. Elegant pearls circled her neck and were fastened in her ears, and a good half dozen rings—all quite sparkly in a rainbow of hues—decorated the fingers of both hands. Her cosmetics were artfully applied, her strawberry-blond hair swept back from her face by an expert hand.

In no way was she the kind of woman who traveled in Pru’s social circle. This woman was obviously wealthy and refined, and used to the finer things in life.

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember me,” she said. “Easton High School? Class of ’90?”

Pru studied the woman harder. If this woman was, as she seemed to be claiming, a member of Pru’s senior class, then Pru should definitely remember her. No way would she forget anyone at Easton High in her native Pittsburgh, in spite of there having been 240 members of her graduating class, and in spite of the fact that she had gone out of her way to avoid every last one of them for the past ten years.

No way would she forget the people who had dubbed her, in the year book’s senior class superlatives, “Most Irresponsible.”

The dubious distinction had only crowned what had been four years of taunting from her classmates, and it had brought with it many chuckles throughout her senior year. Pru, however, had never been the one laughing. No, that particular pleasure had fallen to all her classmates, who had delighted in replaying, time and time again, all the instances when she had behaved a bit…oh…irresponsibly.

Pru herself had never understood the humor everyone else had found in having awarded her such a label. Even if she had been a tad, oh…irresponsible…over the years, that was no reason for her high school class to have voted her such.

And then to have printed the distinction in the senior yearbook.

Beside a photograph of her dangling upside down over the side of a cliff, with a rappelling line wrapped around her ankle after she had…irresponsibly…tried to climb it without the benefit of lessons.

And above a list of other activities—at least a dozen of them—that had been a trifle, oh…irresponsible.

For everyone to see. For everyone to laugh about. For all eternity.

It really wasn’t so much that Pru had been irresponsible, she tried to reassure herself now, as she had for so many years. No, it had just been that she just didn’t like to be bothered with taking the extra time out to learn to do things or read the instructions or follow rules.

These days, of course, she was nothing like she had been in high school. Nothing at all. No way. Motherhood had brought with it an enormous amount of responsibility. And Pru was proud of herself for having risen to the occasion so nicely. She took good care of her son, provided a life for him that was, if not luxurious, certainly more than adequate. And these days, those rash impulses that had been the bane of her youth were nowhere to be found.

At least, she was pretty sure they were nowhere to be found. It had been quite some time since she’d behaved rashly or impulsively. And she tried very hard to keep it that way. Of course, one could argue that her incessant preoccupation with one Seth Mahoney might be construed as slightly, oh…irresponsible. But she hadn’t acted on that preoccupation, had she? She hadn’t done anything there that might lead to behavior that was, oh…irresponsible. She hadn’t been at all impulsive or spontaneous or impetuous or even irresponsible.

Well, not yet, anyway, a little voice at the back of her head taunted her.

Ignoring the voice, Pru turned her attention back to the woman who had summoned her, resolved to decipher her identity.

As if sensing Pru’s determination, the woman smiled and said, “Oh, all right, I admit it. I’ve changed a bit.” She touched a finger to a delicate curl dancing over her forehead. “I used to be a dishwater blonde,” she confessed. “And I’ve lost about twenty-five pounds since we sat next to each other in Mrs. Clement’s literary social criticism class.”

Pru gaped, then covered her mouth. “Hazel Dubrowski?” she said.

The other woman’s smile turned radiant. “In person.”

“Oh, my gosh,” Pru cried, stunned by the transformation. “You look incredible.”

“Yes, I know,” Hazel agreed without a trace of modesty.

Now that Pru knew the woman’s identity, she could definitely see signs of seventeen-year-old Hazel Dubrowski lurking there. Still, ten years—and heaven knew how many trips to the salon—had given her old schoolmate a totally new appearance.

“It’s actually Hazel Debbit now,” she told Pru as she strode forward, pausing at the counter of the nurses’ station to drum perfectly manicured, plum-colored fingernails over the Formica covering. “I got married three years ago. My husband is the CEO of a Fortune 500 company that his father founded.”

“Is that what you’re doing here in South Jersey?” Pru asked. “Do you and your husband live here?”

Hazel shook her head. “No, we live in Pittsburgh, but my in-laws are here.” She jutted a thumb over her shoulder, toward the room she had exited a moment ago. “My father-in-law was in having some tests done. Nothing major,” she hastened to add. “He’s fine. In fact, my husband is helping him pack up his things now, because he’s just been released.”

“Well, that’s good news.”

The other woman nodded. “And now I run into you after all this time. Prudence Holloway. I can’t believe it. Small world. So what have you been doing since graduation? Nobody’s heard from you since you left Pittsburgh, especially now that your folks moved.”

Yes, well, there was a good reason for that, Pru recalled. Namely that she didn’t want to speak to anyone in Pittsburgh, especially now that her folks had moved. But she didn’t think it would be a good idea to tell Hazel that.

“I’ve been living here in South Jersey for about six years now, ever since getting my nursing degree. I needed a change,” she said casually by way of an explanation. At least, she hoped she’d sounded casual. Because it really hadn’t been so much because she needed a change that had made her leave Pittsburgh. It had been more because she had needed an entirely new life.

“Wow,” Hazel said, obviously surprised by this news. “You got a nursing degree?” She shook her head in disbelief. “When I saw you standing out here, I figured you must be a hospital volunteer or something. I had no idea you were actually a nurse. I mean, that takes drive and ambition. You really have to dedicate yourself. I can’t believe you lasted through four years of college and nurse’s training. That’s amazing.”

Yeah, Pru thought morosely, and now that Hazel did know she was a nurse, she’d probably be wondering if her father-in-law had been safe while assigned to this unit. Because, hey, to everyone at Easton High, Prudence Holloway would live forever as “Most Irresponsible,” dangling upside down from a rappelling line.

“I mean,” Hazel added, as if she really, really, really wanted to drive home her point, “I can’t imagine anyone giving you a degree in something like nursing. It just sort of defies logic.”

Pru drew herself up with all the dignity she could muster. She was remembering Hazel pretty well now and recalling that, by their senior year, she had been like everyone else at Easton. Always looking for a new way to tear Pru down. Always poking fun. Always laughing.

“Yeah, well, even more astonishing,” Pru couldn’t help adding, “I graduated from nursing school at the top of my class.”

This time Hazel was the one to gape. “Get out,” she said. “Where did you go? Did you take one of those International School of Bartending nursing courses?”

Somehow, Pru managed to keep her growl of discontent to herself. “No. I went to Penn State,” she said.

Hazel only shook her head slowly as she studied Pru. “Boy, you just never know with some schools, do you?”

What Pru knew was that there was no reason to continue with this conversation. Just as everything—and everyone—else in high school had, it would only serve to demoralize her further. She’d come a long way in the ten years that had passed since graduation, and she wasn’t about to go back. Hazel Dubrowski Debbit just served as a reminder of how good Pru had it these days, having left all that behind.

“Well,” she said coolly to Hazel as she picked up a file from the counter that she really didn’t need at the moment. “It was good seeing you again, Hazel. Give my regards to everybody in Pittsburgh.”

She hoped she’d made clear her subtle but suitable hint that their conversation—and all other contact—was concluded, but Hazel obviously didn’t take it. Because even when Pru glanced down as if looking for something else, her old classmate closed what little distance remained between her and the station, then folded her arms over the counter. When Pru glanced up, arching her eyebrows in silent query, Hazel only smiled.

“You’ll be at the reunion next month, right?”

Although Pru had received her invitation—wondering, frankly, how and why the reunion committee had tracked her down—she had ignored it. No way would she subject herself to something like a ten-year reunion. Hey, she was happy these days. Why mess with a good thing? Especially since, considering her present situation of single motherhood, she would only be laughed at all over again?

Because what could possibly be more irresponsible than being knocked up and abandoned, right? The last thing Pru needed was for her senior class to be hearing about that. “No, I hadn’t planned to attend,” she said. Then, unable to quite quell the ten-year-old hurt that had haunted her, she found herself adding, “Do you honestly think I want to go to a ten-year reunion and see a bunch of people who voted me ‘most irresponsible’ in the senior class superlatives? Why should I put myself through that? High school was bad enough the first time around. Who needs to go through it a second time?”

Hazel chuckled. “Oh, come on, Pru,” she said. “Lighten up. It’ll be fun. Aren’t you curious to see how everyone turned out?”

“No,” she answered honestly.

The other woman’s smile turned positively predatory. Oh, yeah. Now she remembered Hazel Dubrowski. Really well. She’d been one of the most carnivorous members of the senior class. In fact, now that Pru thought more about it, she recalled that Hazel had been on the yearbook staff and had been the one who spearheaded the senior superlatives in the first place. And the one who spearheaded the campaign was the one who usually wound up deciding the winners, based on the prevailing winds.

Sure, Pru could see how she might have been viewed as irresponsible back then. But Hazel was the one who would have created the category. And somehow, Pru was certain she’d done it on purpose, just so she could hang the crown of thorns on Pru’s head. And that was because, Pru also remembered now, Jimmy Abersold had asked her to the junior prom, instead of Hazel.

Oh, it was all coming back to her now. Funny, how selective a person’s memory could be about something like high school—until that memory was forcibly jarred by some baaaad karma, like Hazel was bringing with her now.

“Well, I’m sure they’re all anxious to see how you turned out,” she told Pru with a smile that was at first knowing and then suspicious. “And just how did you turn out, anyway?” she asked further. “I mean, it’s one thing to be a nurse, but what else is going on with you, Pru? I kind of always figured you for the type to wind up knocked up and abandoned somewhere.”

Pru felt a cool weight settle in the pit of her stomach at hearing her own words—her own fears—echoed back at her. But even if she had indeed ended up exactly the way Hazel had known she would, Pru refused to capitulate to the other woman’s meanness.

Schooling her features into the blandest expression she could, she replied evenly, “Really.”

Hazel nodded. “Oh, yeah. I imagine most of the class of ’90 assumed the same thing. Even if you were Little Miss Goody-Two-Shoes for the most part, someone as irresponsible as you were was bound to wind up pregnant and alone and relying on welfare. It’s just the logical conclusion to make.”

Amazed at her ability to remain civil, Pru repeated, “Really.”

And in that moment she knew she had made the right decision in disregarding the invitation to her ten-year reunion. There was no way she would let her senior class discover firsthand just how right they’d been about her all along. The last thing she needed was for 240 people to laugh and point and say, “Man, it’s even worse than we thought it would be. She really did get knocked up and abandoned.” And worse, “Hey, Pru, we told you so.” And worse still, “We knew what kind of person you were all along, even if you never believed it yourself.”

Hazel nodded again, more adamantly this time. “But, gosh,” she said, “just look at you, all professional in your nurse’s uniform. Maybe you have built a solid, responsible life for yourself. I suppose stranger things have happened. Probably. Maybe. In outer space somewhere.”

A solid, responsible life, Pru repeated to herself, ignoring the sarcasm inherent in the response. She hoped the heat she felt flaming in her midsection didn’t show up in her face.

“I mean,” Hazel went on, as if she sensed Pru’s discomfort and wanted very much to compound it, “for all I know, you’re happily married, and you and your husband have a big, beautiful house right here in Cherry Hill. Hey, for all I know, you married a doctor.” Hazel’s smile, however, indicated what a joke she thought that was. “I can just see you subscribing to the orchestra, the ballet, and the theater,” she went on blithely, clearly not meaning a word of what she said. “You probably spend your spare time volunteering at an art museum or being active in your garden club and your reading group and your cooking club. And your kids are probably all beautiful and smart and going to private school. Tell me I’m right,” Hazel dared her. “Tell me that’s exactly the way you live these days.”

Pru swallowed hard, wishing she could agree with every word that Hazel said. Not because she wanted it to be true, and not because she particularly aspired to such a grand life. But because she knew that once her old classmate found out the truth, Hazel would gleefully recount the situation to every single member of the Easton class of ’90 when she went to the reunion.

Oh, I saw Pru Holloway last month, and she hasn’t changed at all. She’s still totally irresponsible. Got herself knocked up by some jerk who dumped her. Now she’s a single mother struggling to pay the bills on some dinky apartment. She’s probably on food stamps and has credit-card debt out the wazoo. Most likely her kid’ll end up in jail. Then we honest taxpayers will have to pay both their ways through life.

Oh, yeah. She could see it now. Everyone in the Easton High class of ’90 ought to have a lot of laughs at her expense. And even if Pru wasn’t planning to attend herself, she didn’t want her title of “Most Irresponsible” to be perpetuated forever. She hated to be the butt of jokes, even in absentia.

But the fact was, she forced herself to admit, that the label still fit. As much as she had tried to change her ways, and as much as she hated to admit it, she was irresponsible. She always had been. She always would be. She didn’t know why she tried to kid herself otherwise.

There was no husband, no house, no lifestyle of forthright responsibility. There were no subscriptions to the arts—hey, who could afford it? There was no volunteer work—hey, who had time? There were no garden clubs, reading groups or cooking clubs. The closest thing Pru had to a garden was the questionably breathing African Violet on her kitchen windowsill, the one she—irresponsibly—kept forgetting to water. The only books she’d bought in the last year had been about infant care and breastfeeding, and even those she’d only—irresponsibly—skimmed. As for cooking, well…she wondered if microwaving pot pies and Beefaroni on a regular basis counted for anything. Anything other than being totally irresponsible about one’s health.

And then, of course, there was that business about having been knocked up and abandoned, Pru reminded herself unnecessarily. Yep, pretty much the ultimate in irresponsible behavior.

“So just what is your life like these days, Pru?” Hazel challenged her again, smiling in a way that indicated she just couldn’t wait to hear. Mainly because she just couldn’t wait to tell everyone they knew that Prudence Holloway had turned out exactly the way they had all known she would.

Resigned to her fate, Pru opened her mouth to confess.

But she was intercepted by a deep baritone that answered for her, “Her life is pretty much exactly the way you described it.”

She spun around to find Seth Mahoney standing behind her, smiling that incredibly charming smile that made every female in a fifty-foot radius melt in a puddle of ruined womanhood at his feet. Hazel Dubrowski Debbit, Pru realized upon turning her attention back to her old classmate, was no exception. Because she stood gaping at Dr. Mahoney as if he were a great, big, hot-fudge sundae with marshmallows and strawberries on top.

“Who’re you?” Hazel asked, heedless of the lack of courtesy in the command.

He extended his hand toward her and jacked up the power on his smile about a hundred kilowatts. Pru was nearly blinded. And her heart went vah-rooooom. “I’m Seth Mahoney,” he said smoothly, easily, sexily, taking Hazel’s hand in his. “I’m Prudence’s husband.”

Three

My what?

For a moment, Pru feared she had spoken the question aloud—loudly aloud—then realized the echo she was hearing was only in her brain.

Oh, no, she thought, when she understood what Dr. Mahoney was doing. Oh, no, please. Not that. Anything but that. But before she could say a word to contradict him, he launched into what she was sure would become the biggest, fattest, whoppingest lie she had ever heard in her life.

“It’s uncanny, really,” he told Hazel, “how you hit on things so exactly.” He dropped an arm casually around Pru’s shoulder and pulled her close, and the vrooming in her heart compounded. “We do, in fact, have a big, beautiful house right here in Cherry Hill. Four thousand square feet, if you must know. And frankly, Hazel,” he added, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial murmur, “you do seem like the type who must know.”

He straightened again before continuing, then went on without care, “Pru, God love her, is active in so many things. In addition to her work here at the hospital, she is involved in nearly every one of those activities you listed. Just between you and me, I don’t know how she does it. She’s an amazing woman.

“Oh, and this,” he added, picking up a framed photo of Tanner she kept at the nurse’s station, “this is our son, Tanner.” He thrust the picture at Hazel, who, still gaping, took it from him and dropped her gaze toward it. “He’s nine months old. A great-looking kid and smart as a whip. He’s the only one we have right now, but we’re planning on at least two more. It goes without saying that they’ll all be going to the finest school we can find for them.” He turned to Prudence, beaming. “Right, honey?” he said.

Too stunned to do anything else, Pru nodded and replied faintly, “Right.”

And then, catching her totally off guard, he bent his head and brushed his lips lightly, affectionately, over hers.

It was a brief, simple, chaste kiss. There was no reason for it to set off explosions throughout her midsection. There was no reason for it to send a sizzle of heat right through her body, from fingertips to toes. There was no reason why she should want to push herself up on tiptoe, wrap her arms around his neck, and pull him back down for a more thorough embrace, for a more demanding grope.

But that was exactly what she wanted to do. Those were exactly her responses. Even the merest touch of his mouth on hers had her brain scrambled and her libido in an uproar.

Dr. Mahoney, however, upon pulling back, looked as if what he’d just done was something he did every day. He gazed at her as if the two of them had been married for years. As if the two of them were irrevocably in love. As if the two of them were building a life together. As if the two of them had made a baby together.

Oh, no. Oh, no, please. Not that. Anything but that.

“I’m sorry,” he said, turning back to Hazel. “What was your name again? I seem to have stumbled into this conversation somewhere in the middle. I missed the beginning part. I gather you’re a friend of Prudence’s from high school?”

Hazel nodded dumbly, numbly, as if she were still held in thrall by the golden, shining promise that was Seth Mahoney.

“Well, how nice,” he said. “It’s always good to run into an old friend and relive those glory days.” He returned his attention to Pru, his back fully on Hazel now. And Pru could see by his expression that he knew exactly what Hazel had been pulling a moment ago, and it was his intention to bail Pru out. “Isn’t it, sweetheart?” he added. “Isn’t it fun to see people from high school that you honestly thought you would never, ever, see again for the rest of your natural life? Don’t you just love that?”

His smile was absolutely devilish, and Pru couldn’t help but succumb to it, to him. Trying not to giggle, she smiled back. “Oh, yeah,” she agreed. “It’s something, all right. Honey,” she added belatedly, hoping she wasn’t slathering it on too thick.

His expression told her that she probably was, but that he didn’t have a problem with it. And then, as if to illustrate that very thing, he bent and kissed her quickly again. Simply, briefly, chastely. Explosively, hotly, uproariously. Part of her really wished he would stop doing that. But another—perhaps even larger—part of her, wished he would never, ever stop.

“So I guess this means you’ll be coming to the reunion with Prudence, then, won’t you?”

As one, Pru and Dr. Mahoney turned to Hazel. But he was the one to ask, “What do you mean? What reunion?”

Hazel uttered a soft sound of surprise. “Didn’t she tell you? Her ten-year high school reunion is next month. The invitations went out in January.”

“I…I didn’t mention it…dear,” Pru quickly replied, “because I know how, uh…how busy March is going to be, and I…I just didn’t think I…that is, I didn’t think we…would be able to make it.”

Oh, well done, Pru, she said, congratulating herself. My, but that had sounded convincing.

“Oh, pooh,” Hazel said with a dismissive wave of her hand. “It’s been ten years. You could clear one weekend for the reunion. Besides,” she hurriedly went on when Pru opened her mouth to object again, “considering the way you live now, you’d be crazy not to come to the reunion. Don’t you want to rub everybody’s nose in it about the ‘Most Irresponsible’ thing?”

“‘The Most Irresponsible thing’?” Dr. Mahoney echoed, his interest quite clearly piqued on that score. His blue eyes fairly sparkled with mischief. “What’s ‘the Most Irresponsible thing’?”

Pru opened her mouth to respond, but this time it was Hazel who cut her off.

“You may not know this about your wife,” she said to Dr. Mahoney, “but she hasn’t always been the forthright, upstanding woman you made of her.”

The blue eyes began to twinkle, Pru noticed. Twinkle. Of all things.

“Do tell,” he said mildly.

Of course Hazel was perfectly willing to do just that. “Oh, you can’t imagine some of the tight spots she found herself in when we were in high school.”

“Tight?” he repeated. “Really? Such as…?”

Once more Hazel shot that careless hand forward. “Oh, heavens. Where to begin.”

“Don’t you have to make your rounds…sweetheart?” Pru asked impulsively, nudging the good doctor’s arm from her shoulder with a single, careless shrug. “Surely you have patients waiting for you.”

“Oh, they don’t mind waiting a few minutes more,” he assured her. “Now then, Hazel, you were saying…? About tight…spots?”

She dimpled prettily as she grinned at him. “Oh, it would take more than a few minutes to tell you all about Pru’s misadventures,” she said. “But to make a long story short, your wife was voted Most Irresponsible by the senior class of Easton High School ten years ago.”

He gaped, feigning astonishment. At least, Pru could tell it was feigned. Hazel, however, seemed to be falling for it hook, line and sinker. “My Prudence?” he asked, splaying a hand open over his heart in disbelief. “Irresponsible? I don’t believe it for a moment. I’ve never met a woman with her act more together than hers is.”

Somehow, Pru managed to swallow the burst of hysterical laughter that wanted to leap out of her throat.

“She’s amazing, the way she’s organized our lives,” he said further. Then, turning to ooze his charm all over Pru, he added, “I don’t know what I’d do without her.”

Something about the way he said that, and something about the glint of undisguised hunger in his eyes, made that vrooming in her chest start up again, and this time it didn’t settle into idle. This time it just kept vrooming, as if very much in need of a new muffler. And Pru got hot all over again wondering just what, exactly, muffling would involve when it came to Seth Mahoney.

“Well, then,” Hazel said, as if everything were settled. “What could be more responsible than the life you’re leading these days, Pru? Now you have to be at the reunion. Come show everybody up. Let them see how wrong they were about you. Come say ‘I told you so’ to everyone.”

Unable to come up with a good excuse not to, Pru turned to her newly acquired husband, silently demanding a reply from him. He had, after all, gotten her into this. The least he could do was dig her out again. But instead of offering her an adequate excuse, or even backing up the lame one that she had supplied about being too busy, Dr. Mahoney smiled a dangerously cryptic smile.

“Well, why the hell not?” he asked.

“What?” she exclaimed.

“Come on, Prudence, it’ll be fun.”

“But…but…but…” she said. Unfortunately her brain refused to budge from that one, not particularly polite, word.

“Oh, good,” Hazel said, clearly delighted to have something to liven up the reunion.

Okay, this had gone far enough, Pru thought. No more fun and games, no matter how much Seth Mahoney seemed to be enjoying his little diversion. “Now wait a just minute,” she began.

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