Dear Reader

Sometimes a person comes into our lives that we just can’t forget, no matter how long or hard we try. For Dr Ross Lane that person is Nurse Brielle Winton. Brielle was Ross’s girlfriend for several years, but when their relationship turned rocky and he was offered a prestigious internship in another state he ended things and took off for greener pastures.

But sometimes there’s no leaving the past behind. Five years later Ross needs to know once and for all if Brielle is all that his memory makes her out to be and if he made a mistake in walking away.

Despite the chemistry still alive between them, apparently she isn’t haunted by the past the way he is. But, having seen her again, Ross knows she is the one for him, and he’s determined to win her forgiveness and give her the happily-ever-after she deserves.

I hope you enjoy Ross and Brielle’s story, and the return to Bean’s Creek, North Carolina. You can visit me at www.janicelynn.net or on Facebook to catch up on my latest news.

Happy reading!

Janice

About the Author

JANICE LYNN has a Masters in Nursing from Vanderbilt University, and works as a nurse practitioner in a family practice. She lives in the southern United States with her husband, their four children, their Jack Russell—appropriately named Trouble—and a lot of unnamed dust bunnies that have moved in since she started her writing career.

To find out more about Janice and her writing visit www.janicelynn.com

The ER’s
Newest Dad
Janice Lynn

www.millsandboon.co.uk

I wrote this book while my mentor, dear friend,

and the greatest doctor I’ve ever known battled cancer.

While I was working on revisions he lost that battle.

My very first Medical Romance™ was in dedication to

him, because he was a real-life hero

and someone I loved like a second father.

This book is in loving memory

of Dr Leon Lovon Reuhland. I will miss you.

CHAPTER ONE

ROSS LANE HAD messed up big-time.

Every time his gaze settled on the petite blonde nurse in Bay Two the message reverberated louder and louder through his skull, pounding like the worst of headaches.

Idiot.

Fool.

Stupid.

Oh, yeah, he’d messed up big time five years ago.

Lately, not a day went by that he didn’t wonder what his life would be like had he stuck around and been the man Brielle Winton had wanted him to be.

Funny how time changed one’s perspective, one’s priorities.

He leaned back against the emergency room nurses’ station, pretending to read the hospital newsletter someone had handed him moments before. In actuality, he soaked in every detail of the woman he had never been able to forget.

Beautiful as ever, she smiled at the elderly gentleman she was hooking to telemetry. Dimples dotted the corners of her lush mouth, tugging at past memories and something deep in his chest. She went about her job efficiently, smiling often, speaking in a soft, soothing tone, completely unaware that he couldn’t drag his gaze from her, that tension crackled from his every pore.

She was so close.

Yet never had she felt so far away.

How could he have walked away and broken her heart?

How could he have believed that out of sight would mean out of mind?

How could he have believed she would forgive him if he showed up out of the blue five years down the road from when they’d once been inseparable and he’d stupidly thrown away what they’d shared?

She looked up, her brown gaze meeting his with an intensity that jackhammered the pounding in his head.

Her friendly smile morphed into an agitated scowl. Shooting a quick glare that told him exactly where she wanted him to go, she turned her attention back to the frail gentleman lying on the emergency room hospital bed. Her expression was immediately pleasant for her patient’s benefit, her smile so potent he was shocked the man’s heart monitor didn’t go haywire.

Brielle had no smiles for him.

Not a single one.

She barely spoke to him and never when it wasn’t patient related.

He didn’t blame her. He couldn’t. Not when almost everything that had gone wrong in their relationship had been his fault.

Almost everything, but not all.

They’d both made mistakes. His had just been bigger.

Much bigger.

Huge.

Super-sized.

Pulsating pain stabbed his temple, making him wince.

Letting Brielle go really was his biggest regret. The one thing he couldn’t get over no matter how many successes he achieved, no matter how much time passed. When he closed his eyes, she was who filled his mind, who he longed to wrap his arms around and hold close, who he wanted to share those successes with.

Five years had passed since he’d touched Brielle, but he hadn’t forgotten one thing. Not the sound of her laughter or the feel of her hand clasped within his. Not the way she looked upon first waking or the way that no matter how tired she’d been she’d always had a special smile just for him.

If he’d been haunted before, his memories had escalated to torment when he’d bumped into her older brother at a medical convention. He’d known within minutes of seeing Vann that he would go to Brielle. He’d had to know if his memory played tricks on him, making the recollection of her more than the reality had ever been.

Although he had brought her up a couple of times during conversations, his former friend had barely commented on his sister, had managed to change the subject each and every time Ross had mentioned her.

Actually, Vann hadn’t said much of anything about Brielle since the night he’d broken Ross’s nose. That night Vann had said plenty. Lots. Mostly about how Ross had better never set foot near his sister again or he would do more than bloody his nose.

Ross hadn’t fought back. He’d taken Vann’s punch, figured he deserved the pain, and he’d walked away from his best friend and the woman he’d been crazy about.

The one woman who had enough of a hold over him that once he’d learned where she was living—had Vann let that slip intentionally or on purpose?—he’d taken leave from his thriving family practice to accept a temporary emergency room position just to be near her, to work side by side with her as they once had. For the next three months he’d cover for the emergency room physician who was on maternity leave.

Then what?

Would three months be enough to finish whatever unresolved business existed between Brielle and himself?

Would three months be enough for him to know if all those years ago she had stolen his heart and he’d been too blind to realize it? Too young and stupid to know what he was losing? Or was guilt over what he’d done to her the culprit for why she haunted his dreams? Why his mind couldn’t let her go?

Either way, he had to know.

He’d reached a point where he was ready to find someone to share his life with, to settle down, marry, have a few kids, and experience all the craziness that went along with being married with children.

Back in Boston, he’d been dating a beautiful, talented hospitalist, had even considered asking Gwen to marry him, but hadn’t been able to bring himself to do so. Something kept holding him back.

Or someone.

So, instead of a proposal, he’d come back from his conference, broken things off with her and put his current life on hold so he could reconcile his past with his future.

The pretty little blonde, once again glaring at him from beside her patient’s bed, was the starting point for him to achieve that next phase in his life.

One way or the other, his future started with Brielle Winton.

If only she’d co-operate.

Surely she needed resolution too?

Or maybe she had gotten all the resolution she needed when he’d left. Maybe she already knew that his leaving had been the right thing and that her feelings for him hadn’t been real after all. Her antagonistic attitude toward him sure gave testimony to the fact she didn’t want him here.

Then again, she always had been a stubborn little thing, but that had never presented a problem before.

In the past they’d always wanted the same thing.

Almost always.

When she’d started talking marriage almost nonstop, even to the point they’d argued more often than not, he’d flown the coop.

Figuratively and literally.

He’d already been considering the internship in Boston. Not everyone got offered such a great opportunity. He’d have been a fool to turn the chance down. But he had hesitated, and he’d known why. Brielle. Part of him had resented that their relationship was holding him back, keeping him from fulfilling all his career dreams. Crazy, immature, but he’d suddenly felt a noose tightening around his neck.

Still, he regretted the panicked tailspin he’d nosedived into.

Thinking she could forgive him was pure foolishness.

Yet forgiveness was why he was here.

Brielle was why he was here, why he wouldn’t leave until he had the answers he needed, why he wouldn’t let her animosity get to him.

To prove his point, he winked at her, not one bit surprised when her scowl deepened.

“Dr. Lane, there’s a UTI in Bay Four if you want to have a look.” Cindy Whited’s words interrupted his thoughts, causing him to glance at the buxomly nurse. “Her urinalysis results are in the computer for your review.”

“Thanks. I’ll be right there,” he assured her, his attention immediately shifting back to Brielle. Their gazes collided again, causing a rumble in his chest, the same rumble he got every time he looked at her.

Love? Shame? Guilt? Regret about the past?

It was high time he knew exactly what role Brielle would play in his future. The sooner he knew, the better.

The stirring below his belt every time he looked at her left no doubt at the role he wanted her to play in his present.

His memory hadn’t overplayed the reality at all. Brielle was all that he remembered and more.

He wanted her. In his life and in his bed.

She evoked his senses as no other woman ever had. Just looking at her left him wanting to drag her into the doctors’ lounge and have his way with her delectable, curvy little body.

He wouldn’t, of course. Bay Four was waiting. Not to mention that she would bite his head off if he tried.

Once upon a time she’d worshipped the ground he’d walked on, but that had been years ago. Now she looked at him as if she wanted to bury him six feet under the ground he walked on.

He wanted Brielle to look at him with the light that had once shone in her eyes just for him. He wanted her to want him as much as he wanted her, for them to burn up the sheets and see if there was anything left beyond the phenomenal chemistry they’d always shared.

With the way she regarded him these days he may as well wish for the moon.

He straightened his shoulders, stared at her with renewed determination. He’d never backed away from a challenge.

Well, perhaps once, and hadn’t he lived to regret that mistake?

“Forget McDreamy and McSteamy. If that man were a television doctor, he’d be McHottie.” Cindy fanned her busty chest to emphasize her point.

Brielle ignored her friend’s antics, as she’d grown accustomed to doing since McHottie’s arrival earlier that week. If only her friend knew what evils lurked beneath Ross’s beautiful façade she wouldn’t constantly harp on about his royal hotness.

No, he hadn’t been evil, she admitted. He’d just … No, she wasn’t going to let her mind go to the past. Not again.

“Too bad he only has eyes for you,” Cindy continued, unfazed by Brielle’s lack of response. “Because I wouldn’t mind feeling the heat.”

Brielle fought to keep from looking up from the computer monitor where she was entering a patient’s latest assessment data. She would not react to Cindy’s comment. She couldn’t. Her friend would have her shoved into a supply closet with Ross and bar the door. Cindy was constantly trying to get her to date, to splurge on life’s niceties, as she called the opposite sex. Brielle had other priorities.

“Take now, for instance,” Cindy said with a hint of amusement in her voice.

Brielle wasn’t going to look up. She wasn’t. Ross seemed to have eyes for her a lot these days, but she didn’t care. She didn’t.

“Here I am practically having hot flushes over those sultry blue eyes and that chiseled body, and does he even notice?” Her friend sighed dramatically. “No, he just keeps looking at you as if you’re a fascinating puzzle he has to solve, as if you’re a dessert he has to taste, as if—”

“You can have him,” Brielle interrupted before Cindy could elaborate further, before her face could grow any hotter.

“Because?”

They’d been friends too long for Brielle not to know exactly what her friend’s expression looked like without having to glance her way. Cindy’s brow was arched high in question and a smile toyed on her lips.

Wasn’t that the thing she’d loved most about Bean’s Creek? That no one knew Ross other than Samantha and Vann? That she’d been able to move home without anyone feeling sorry for her because the man who’d been her world had abandoned her when she’d needed him most? Granted, he hadn’t known the full story, but she had tried to tell him more than once and he’d refused to listen.

“He’s not my type.”

“Honey,” her friend scoffed with another wave of her hand, “that man is every straight woman’s type.”

Brielle hit the “enter” key, then leaned back in her chair. “Not mine.”

“Because?” Cindy persisted.

Been there, done that, have the scars and the kid to prove it.

“He just isn’t.”

A short silence followed and when Cindy spoke her tone was softer, more serious. “Because he reminds you of Justice’s dad?”

Hello. Had Cindy read her mind? Brielle’s gaze jerked up.

She shouldn’t have looked. Really, she shouldn’t have. Yet her gaze had instantly gone to Cindy. A very curious Cindy, who was watching her way too closely. No wonder. She probably looked like a deer caught in headlight beams. Maybe her friend really had read her mind. Or maybe she’d just thought she was talking in her head and really she’d mumbled her sarcastic remark out loud? No, she knew she hadn’t.

“Why would you ask that?” Had her voice squeaked? Had the racket her mouth had emitted even been actual words or pleas to not push?

“I am your best friend,” Cindy reminded her, sounding slightly offended. “Plus, I’m not blind. Dr. Lane’s eyes are a fantastic blue, just like Justice’s.”

“Lots of people have blue eyes.” She did her best to look bored with the conversation, to look as if she thought Cindy was crazy.

Cindy was crazy if she thought Brielle was going to have this conversation while entering patient data at the emergency room nurses’ station. Especially when Ross could step up at any time.

“True.” Cindy shrugged. “I just thought—”

“Quit thinking.”

Cindy’s brow rose, and she shook her head. “Oh, yeah, comments like that one from my way-too-serious, too logical, always-overthinks-things friend doesn’t raise questions in my mind. Not at all.”

Was that how her friend saw her? Fine. She’d earned the right to be logical and serious. Brielle winced. She had to get her act together. To quit being so jumpy where Ross was concerned. Three months. Less than three months now. She could keep her cool for that long. Then he’d be gone and hopefully never come near her again.

That gave her pause.

Never see Ross again?

Not that she’d thought she ever would. Not after he’d told her he didn’t want anything to do with her ever again, that she was holding him back, and he planned to get on with his life. Without her.

And he had. All too quickly he’d moved on.

Yet, here he was, back in her life, creating emotional havoc.

Just as Cindy was, waiting for an explanation. Any moment her friend would start with the hands-on-hips foot-tapping.

“Look,” Brielle said slowly, hoping to put off the interrogation, “the man annoys me and isn’t someone I’d be interested in. Let’s just leave it at that. Please.”

Cindy considered her a moment, then shrugged. “Okay, for now, but only because your annoyance factor is about to skyrocket anyway.”

Brielle took a deep breath, turned slightly to see Ross headed their way. Great. Her annoyance factor shot into orbit.

“Hey, Brielle, can I talk to you a moment?”

One one thousand. Two one thousand. Three one thousand. If she counted to infinity it wouldn’t calm her Ross-ified nerves.

She could do this. She could be calm, professional. He meant nothing to her. Nothing but a pesky fly she’d like to swat away.

Swat.

“Obviously, you can.”

Perhaps she shouldn’t be so snappy with a physician who was her superior, but she couldn’t help herself. Not so close on the heels of Cindy’s question about Justice.

Her son’s eyes were the exact shade of blue of Ross’s. He had the same strong chin and facial structure. Made expressions that were so similar to Ross’s that at times Brielle’s breath caught and memories pierced her heart.

Justice looked a great deal as Ross must have looked at a similar age. Except that her son had arrived into the world two months early and was small for his age. She couldn’t imagine six-foot-two-inch Ross ever having been anything but big.

“I’m going to go clean Bay One,” Cindy told no one in particular as she fanned her hand over her chest one last time and grinned at Brielle while mouthing, “Hot.”

When they were alone at the nurses’ station, Ross sighed. “Is this how it’s going to be the entire time I’m here?”

“This?” She pretended to have no clue what he referred to.

“You hating me.”

“I don’t hate you.” She didn’t, did she? She just wanted him to go away without disrupting her life further, without disrupting Justice’s life. No way would she let Ross hurt their son the way he’d hurt her.

“Good to know.”

“Don’t let the knowledge go to your head,” she advised, not wanting to encourage him in any way as keeping an emotional distance was difficult enough already. “I may not hate you, but I don’t like you.”

Not looking one bit nonplussed, he grinned. “Let me take you to dinner tonight so we can work on that. Once upon a time there were a lot of things you liked about me. Let me remind you.”

An invisible hand jerked at Brielle’s throat, choking the breath from her. No sound would come out so she shook her head.

“Why not?”

Did he really not know?

“Should I give you a thesis on the reasons? Or just the top-ten list?” she snapped, her voice freeing itself from the mute clutches of shock.

“No,” he said, leaning against the nurses’ station and crossing his legs at the ankles in a casual pose, too casual really. “What you should do is say yes.”

“No.”

“Brielle.”

“Don’t Brielle me, Dr. Lane. There is no reason why I should say yes. No reason why I ever would. This is a wasted conversation because there’s no point to us going to dinner. Ever.”

“Sure there is.” There was an undercurrent to his voice that caused her head to jerk up, for her eyes to study him closely. He looked casual, relaxed, but there was a steely, determined set to his jaw.

Did he know? Had he somehow learned of Justice? Had she been wrong to believe he didn’t have a clue? Really, why else would he be there?

“What reason would that be? Because I sure can’t think of a single one.” It wasn’t as if he’d woken up one morning and thought, Hey I miss Brielle Winton. Wonder what she’s been up to. Maybe I should move hundreds of miles away for a few months so I can find out. Right. But, then, why else would he have chosen to work here?

Unless he’d discovered her five-year-old secret.

“Because I like you,” he answered without hesitation, as if his reasons were logical and she shouldn’t have had to ask.

Her heart pounded in her chest and she grabbed hold of the edge of the nurses’ station, grounding herself. “You don’t even know me.”

“Sure I do.” He sounded so self-confident, so cocky that she wanted to scream with frustration. Did he think her life had just stood still since he’d walked away? That she had been in limbo, waiting for him to come back to pick up where they’d left off?

“You may have known me better than anyone once upon a time, but not any more. Five years changes a person. I’ve changed.”

His gaze skimmed over her, dragging slowly across each of her facial features, lower till he reached where the nurses’-station hid her body. “Not that much. You’re still the same Brielle.”

She fought the urge to cross her arms over her chest, her belly, her hips. “Don’t act as if you know me when you don’t. I have changed.” Oh, how pregnancy and becoming a mother had changed her. Her body. Her mindset. Everything. Justice had changed her for the good. Unlike his father. “I’m a completely different person, have different priorities, different dreams.”

He moved round the desk, stood close, quietly regarding her, seeming to consider her comment. “What do you dream now, Brielle?” His question came out soft, curious, almost a plea to know her inner desires.

As if she’d tell him anything about her dreams.

“Not so long ago all your dreams featured me,” he reminded her softly, no trace of his cocky arrogance to be heard in his voice for once.

There went that jerk to her throat again, but this time she held onto her ability to speak.

“Long enough.” For ever ago. “Like I said, I’ve changed. For however long you are here, I will treat you with professional courtesy, but I will not cater to you beyond that limited role. Anything else between us ended long ago.” Five long, horrible years ago when he’d changed the course of her life by ending their relationship and moving far away. “At your bidding, I might add.”

Had that been bitterness in her tone? She wanted indifference, not the slightest hint that he’d hurt her, that he still held the power to hurt her.

“Brielle—”

“Unless what you have to say is regarding a patient, please don’t speak to me,” she interrupted, unwilling to listen to more. “Just leave me alone.”

His brows drawn together, he sighed. “If that’s how you want things.”

“It is.” With that she turned back to her computer monitor and pretended he wasn’t standing so close, pretended that he didn’t mean a thing to her.

Not pretended. He didn’t mean a thing to her. Not really.

Not for a long time.

Not ever again.

CHAPTER TWO

GLAD HER SHIFT was almost over, a tired Brielle handed an elderly gentleman an emesis pan. “Use this if you need to throw up. Dr. Lane will be in momentarily to order something to ease the nausea.” A noise caught her attention as someone entered the room. She didn’t have to look to know who it was. The quickening of her pulse gave all the indication she needed. “Here he is now.”

“Hello, Mr. Gardner, I’m Dr. Lane,” Ross introduced himself as he washed his hands. “I’ve looked over your labs. The good news is that your chest pain doesn’t appear to be cardiac in nature.”

“The bad news?” the slightly balding, white-haired man asked, his expression pinched. His frail hands clasped the white cotton blanket covering his thin body tightly.

Brielle fought the urge to take his trembling hand in hers while he awaited whatever news Ross had come to deliver.

“Your liver enzymes are through the roof, as are your amylase and lipase levels,” Ross explained, elaborating on the details of the patient’s labs and how they related to his symptoms. “I’m going to admit you to the medical floor for acute pancreatitis.”

Ross spoke calmly to the man, taking time to explain the diagnosis and the medical implications. Despite the fact that she should probably go and check to see if there were any new patients to triage, Brielle found herself fascinated by Ross interacting with his patient.

She’d always known he was going to be a phenomenal doctor. He’d had such a reassuring manner about him, an aura that promised his patients everything would be okay so long as their lives were in his hands, that he’d always do his best.

When it came to his patients, perhaps that was true. In the short time he’d been at Bean’s Creek, he’d certainly earned the respect of his colleagues. No one could say enough good things about the gorgeous new doctor filling in for Cassidy Jenkins.

“Brielle, will you call the medical floor and have a nurse prepare a bed for Mr. Gardner? I’ll get admission orders written.” He looked up from where he listened to Mr. Gardner’s chest yet again. “Oh, and one more thing, go ahead and give an anti-emetic prior to his transfer, please.”

He named the medication, dosage, and route he wanted it administered.

Please. No wonder all her co-workers thought he was God’s gift to the emergency department. Forget the man’s extraordinary good looks, which made a girl willing to overlook most flaws, but, seriously, how many doctors said please and thank you routinely? As well loved as Cassidy was, even the lovely doctor on maternity leave wasn’t known for pleases and thank yous.

Brielle didn’t want to like him, this older version of the man she’d once loved with all her heart. Didn’t want to have positive thoughts in any way, shape, or form regarding Ross.

She didn’t want to have thoughts of Ross, period.

Not good. Not bad. Not any.

Forcing him from her mind yet again, she nodded at the source of her annoyance and left the emergency room bay to carry out his orders. She’d just finished drawing up the injection when he stepped up behind her. Close. Too close.

She turned to tell him to back away, to leave her alone, but facing Ross was a mistake.

He was standing closer than she’d realized. So close that they practically touched. So close that when she looked up at him, she could see the flare of desire darkening the blue of his eyes.

She remembered that flare, that look that said he wanted her. Before he’d baled out on her, that look would have had her smiling, nodding, and them getting alone as quickly as possible.

A lump clogged her throat. She choked back a fresh wave of annoyance at how she remembered everything about him, how her body remembered every look and caress he’d ever bestowed on her. Stupid body!

He looked good, smelled good. It was all she could do to keep from deeply inhaling the musky scent of him. If she leaned just slightly towards him, she bet he’d feel good too. His lean body was as toned and fit as ever. Perhaps more so than when he’d been finishing his degree.

But Brielle didn’t lean. Instead, she focused on the image of the last time she’d seen him when she’d gone to Boston a few months after he’d left.

An image of that wonderfully built body of his pressed against a woman Brielle hadn’t known, but obviously Ross had, filled her mind. His lips had been firmly attached to the blonde stranger’s. When he’d pulled back, he’d smiled at the woman, slid his arm to her lower back and whispered something in the woman’s ear that had made her laugh and slap his upper arm.

Brielle hadn’t laughed, but she had felt like slapping Ross. And herself for being so stupid as to think going to Boston to tell him about her pregnancy had been the right thing for her to do.

He’d told her he wanted nothing to do with her or anything that had to do with her ever again. Why hadn’t she believed him?

She’d left somewhere between numb, angry, and so hurt that the airline stewardess had asked more than once if she was okay. Less than a month later she’d given birth to Justice, her obstetrician citing stress as the cause of her premature labor.

The memory of her Boston trip still held the power to almost bring her to her knees with pain, nausea, and weakness. It also gave her the power to resist the man standing before her, who was as sinfully tempting as the devil himself. Yes, she’d loved him once upon a time, but the flip side of the coin held her in its grasp much more firmly these days.

“Brielle,” he began, his voice low, his eyes searching as if he knew her thoughts had gone somewhere dark. He reached for her shoulders.

“Don’t!” She jerked back, clenching the medication-filled syringe between shaking fingers. “Don’t you dare touch me, Ross Lane. Don’t you ever touch me!”

She’d been louder than she should have been and Cindy glanced her way, frowning in confusion.

“Brielle.” Her name came out as a sigh. He said something more, but the roaring in her ears prevented her from understanding his words. Had he really thought he could just show up and step back into her life? Was that what he wanted?

Who cared what he wanted?

As far as she was concerned, Cassidy couldn’t come off maternity leave soon enough so that Ross could pitchfork his way back to the fiery gates that had spat him out.

She closed her eyes, squeezed them tight, hoping he would be gone when she opened them.

No such luck.

She sighed. “Please go away.”

He stared at her for long moments. “Is that what you want? For me to leave and just stay gone?”

Was it?

She swallowed the lump in her throat. “The emergency room would be chaos if you left.”

His lips twisted. “That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it. Go to dinner with me at the end of your shift so we can talk.”

“We’ve already been through this. I don’t want anything to do with you.” She fought back the bile rising up her throat. Had she purposely flung his words back at him? “What would be the point?”

“We could catch up on old times.”

“Aren’t you listening?” She glared up at him as if he wasn’t nearly as bright as she knew him to be. “I don’t want to catch up on old times with you.”

He shrugged. “I’m flexible. Go to dinner with me so we can make new times.”

She started to shoot him down again, but thought of Justice. This was her precious son’s father. A father he’d never met. Didn’t she owe it to Justice to see if Ross was man enough to do right by his son should she tell him of the miracle they’d created?

Was there really any choice a good mother could make other than to see what he had to say and then make any necessary decisions regarding her son’s future?

Ross watched the play of emotions dance across Brielle’s face. She’d never been good at hiding her thoughts. Time hadn’t changed that.

She was considering saying yes. He wanted her to say yes. More than any sane man should, he wanted her to go to dinner with him, to spend time with him, regardless of what they were doing.

“Please, Brielle. Say yes.” He didn’t like pleading with her, but with their past he figured he owed her that much. Hell, he probably owed her a lot more than that, but he wasn’t quite ready to grovel yet. “I want to spend time with you. Outside work.”

Emotions continued to battle for dominance across her face. She didn’t want to say yes. Not really. But he wasn’t blind. There was still something between them, a heat, an inner connection that time, or his foolishness, hadn’t eradicated.

“Let me take you to dinner. No pressure for anything more, I promise. I’ll grovel if necessary.”

Okay, so maybe he was ready to grovel. Groveling would be a new experience, but he’d learn to grovel with the best of them if it won him the chance of getting back in her good graces.

Her brown gaze lowered then lifted to his. “Okay, fine, I will go to dinner with you. But this means nothing, Ross. Nothing at all. I am not interested in rekindling a relationship with you or making new memories or anything of the sort. I’m focused on my future. You are part of my past that I would have preferred stayed part of my past.”

Ouch. She wasn’t mincing her words, but he didn’t deserve any sugar-coating. Still, if she’d give him a chance he’d get there, would remind her how sweet their lovemaking had been. Sweet seemed too tame a word for what they’d shared.

As simple a thing as it was, she’d called him Ross again rather than Dr. Lane. Hearing his name on her lips pleased him way too much.

“Tonight? After your shift?” A wise man would get a commitment on a date and time. Ross was no fool.

“Tonight is as good a time as any,” she sighed, her face pale as if she was battling nausea. “I want to get this over with.”

Her tone made going to dinner with him sound worse than having root-canal treatment. Did she dislike him so much?

“Not that I’m not grateful you said yes, albeit with less enthusiasm than one would hope for, but why did you?”

“A glutton for punishment, obviously.” She laughed a laugh he recognized as one full of irony. “But we both know you weren’t going to let up until I said yes. Meet me at Julian’s just down the street about thirty minutes after my shift change. A quick dinner. Nothing else.”

She wasn’t happy about agreeing to go but at least she’d said yes and that was a start. He’d take whatever crumbs she tossed his way until he convinced her he had seriously missed her.

Clinging to the fact that he was having dinner with her, he smiled. “You need my number in case you get stuck working late?”

“No, Dr. Lane.” Deep furrows cut into her forehead with her glare. “I figured out your number a long time ago.”

Brielle was late arriving to Julian’s, but she didn’t call or text Ross to let him know. Despite her claim, she didn’t have his number, not his cellular phone number at any rate.

Sheer stubbornness had prevented her from taking it earlier when he’d offered. That and her need to put him in his place even if it had only been a short-lived balm on the mega-blows he had delivered her way.

Maybe he’d have left already.

No such luck. She paused in the entrance of the restaurant, easily spotting where he sat in a back booth. A waitress stood next to the table, her pretty face bright with interest in whatever Ross was saying, her gaze eating him up.

Some things never changed.

Not that Brielle blamed the young girl. There was no denying that he was a beautiful man. He was. Yet Ross’s appeal went so much further than the deep blue of his eyes, the coal-black allure of his soft, thick hair, the strong lines of his tanned face, the width of his broad shoulders or the taper of his narrow hips. His appeal came from the sharp intelligence that quickly became apparent when in his presence, from the witty humor that was always just beneath the surface, the charm that bubbled over without him even trying, the smile that dug dimples into his cheeks and made a woman need to smile back.

Based on the waitress’s high-pitched laughter and flushed cheeks, Brielle guessed Ross’s charm was bubbling. Although he was probably just being friendly, the sight brought her back to when she’d gone to Boston.

Just as now, he hadn’t known she was there, watching him. What had been the point? He’d told her he wanted nothing else to do with her. He’d meant his words when he’d told her he was done. Some crazy part of her had clung to the belief that he’d realize he made a mistake, that they were good together, meant to be together always and for ever. Seeing him kiss the blonde when she’d still thought of him as hers had driven his words home as perhaps nothing else could have.

She’d fled heartbroken, pregnant, and uncertain about her future.

Perhaps she should have told him about her pregnancy anyway, but she hadn’t been thinking clearly, had only wanted to get far away.

Later, when her emotions had settled somewhat, she’d made the decision to take him at his word, to let him have the life he’d said he wanted and had chosen over her.

Ross had no idea he had a son.

Or did he?

Nausea hit her. Hard. The room spun. Clamminess coated her skin with hot moisture. She dropped onto a bench meant for waiting customers. Wave after wave of fear slammed into her and she thought she was going to throw up.

“Brielle? Are you okay?” Concern poured from Ross, his expression worried and his voice gentle.

She blinked at him, shocked to see him so close. Obviously he’d noticed her and had left the table to check on her. He sat on the bench next to her, his hand on her face as if checking for a fever.

“Brielle?” he repeated, but she couldn’t speak, couldn’t respond other than to stare at him.

Had Ross come to Bean’s Creek to claim his son?

CHAPTER THREE

HIS HEART POUNDING, Ross put his hand on Brielle’s forehead. Red stained her cheeks, but otherwise her face was devoid of color. Although it wasn’t overly warm, dampness clung to her pale skin.

“Honey, are you all right?” He shook her shoulder lightly, trying to get her to snap out of whatever had hold of her. Not once when he’d imagined finally feeling her skin against his again had he imagined it like this.

Face pinched with pain, she shook her head in denial.

What the hell was wrong with her? Why wouldn’t she look at him?

“Brielle?”

Her body trembled within his grasp, making him want to take her into his arms and make whatever was wrong better.

Fine hairs along his neck prickled. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on so I can help you.”

She closed her eyes, swallowed then took a ragged breath.

“I need to get out of here,” she mumbled, so low he barely made out what she said. “I don’t feel well.”

“Sir, is everything okay?” the hostess asked, the young girl’s wide eyes glued to where Brielle dropped her head to between her knees.

“My friend isn’t feeling well. Which unfortunately means we won’t be staying.” He pulled out his wallet, handed the girl a twenty. “Please give that to our waitress to cover my drink and her trouble.”

His gaze went back to Brielle. She still leaned forward, rocked slightly back and forth.

“Let’s go, honey.” He helped her sit up, but one glance at her ashen face was more than enough to prompt him to make a quick decision.

He scooped her into his arms, waited while the hostess opened the restaurant door, and then carried her to his car, with her protesting the entire time that she could walk.

“Can you stand long enough for me to open the door?”

Still trembling, she nodded against his chest. “Put me down. I’m so embarrassed.”

She felt good in his arms. What kind of cad was he anyway to notice how good she felt against him when she was ill? Still, he wanted nothing more than to keep holding her, to keep breathing in the scent that was uniquely hers. To keep feeling her warm body against his.

He’d missed her so much.

More than he’d admitted even to himself until that very moment.

“I said put me down,” she said, with more gusto than he would have thought possible based on how pale she’d looked inside the restaurant. “You should never have picked me up like that!”

He didn’t point out that she’d looked too weak to stand. Now didn’t seem the time to start an argument. Instead, he gently put her on her feet, keeping his hand on her, ready to steady her if she swayed, ready to sweep her back into his arms if she stumbled.

He unlocked his door, helped her into his passenger seat, then got into the driver’s side of the car. Rather than start the engine, he turned to her, watched her stare straight ahead, wishing he could know what was running through her head.

“You okay?” Crazy question when she obviously wasn’t, but he didn’t know what else to say to break the silence stretching between them.

“Fine. Couldn’t be better.” Sarcasm didn’t become her, but her color was beginning to look a little brighter, not so ghostly.

“What’s going on? You coming down with something?”

“I’m not ill, just embarrassed at the spectacle we just made.”

She attempted to make light of his question, but he’d have to be a fool not to realize her laugh was forced.

“Nothing contagious, at any rate,” she continued, still staring straight out the window.

He stared at her miserable profile, at how her shoulders sagged, at how her hand rested on her abdomen, and a possible explanation of her symptoms, of her rejection of him, hit so hard that he thought he might be ill, too.

Acid burned the back of his throat, searing him straight through.

“You’re pregnant?” He hated the words, hated asking, but he had to know. Had to know if he was too late. If he’d stayed in denial of his feelings for too long, let someone else move in and steal Brielle’s heart. Claim her body.

Her jaw fell. She turned to him, her eyes round and her expression aghast. “No,” she denied so forcefully he couldn’t doubt her. “I’m not pregnant. Why would you think that?”

“Because you were nauseated and looked like you were going to pass out.” Relief washed through Ross but didn’t fully ease his suspicions. “You’re holding your stomach.” He grimaced, wanting to hold his own nauseated stomach. “You’re sure you aren’t pregnant?”

Her hand fell to her side. She closed her eyes and laughed, though it sounded bitter-sweet. “I’m not pregnant.”

Something about her answer struck him as odd, as not quite the whole story. “How can you be positive?”

“I’m not pregnant. Let’s leave it at that.” Sarcasm bit into her words.

“Maybe you are and don’t know it.” Why he persisted he wasn’t sure. Maybe because the thought that she might be bothered him so greatly that he wanted to be one hundred per cent certain that she wasn’t.

“I am not pregnant. End of story.” She blew out an exasperated breath, dropped her head against his dashboard and rolled it back and forth slowly, before sitting back up to stare blankly ahead. “Men are so dense.”

Wondering at her actions, he frowned. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that you were oblivious when you should have …” She trailed off, closed her eyes and put her hand to her head, wincing as if in pain again.

“Headache?” he guessed, wondering why breathing suddenly felt easier at her assurance she wasn’t pregnant, wondering at her comment and wishing she’d finished it.

She nodded. “I think one is coming on. If you’ll take me somewhere to where I can lie down for a minute, I’m sure it’ll pass.”

She was looking pale again and as if she’d like to bring up anything in her stomach. “You need a bag or something to barf in?”

“Very technical term there, Dr. Lane, and, no, I don’t need a barf bag. I haven’t eaten anything since early this morning.”

Why hadn’t she eaten? Sure, they had been busy at the hospital, but she was supposed to have had a lunch-break. How had he not noticed that she hadn’t taken one?

“That’s probably why you feel so poorly and is likely what triggered your headache. Hypoglycemia is serious business, Brielle. You shouldn’t play around with your health. You know better.”

Eyes closed, face squished, she shook her head and pointed towards the road. “It’s not hypoglycemia. My blood sugar is fine. I’m fine. Just drive.”

Ross wasn’t sure where he was supposed to take her, but a place to lie down was a requirement he didn’t have a lot of choices on. He took her to the furnished apartment he’d leased for the three months he’d be in Bean’s Creek.

Despite her protests that she was fine to walk, he carried her inside, laid her on his sofa, pulled her tennis shoes off and propped her feet on one of the throw pillows that had come with the apartment.

“I’ll be back in just a minute,” he promised. “Don’t move.”

Eyes closed, she grunted in acknowledgement of his comment. He fetched a glass of orange juice and a couple of tablets to knock out her pain.

“I don’t recall you having issues with headaches. How often do you get these?” he asked when she’d settled back on the sofa. He placed a cold, damp cloth on her forehead and stroked loose hairs away from her face.

“Almost never.” Hating that his touch felt so good, Brielle closed her eyes, willed her body not to respond to the gentle strokes of his fingers brushing over her face, her hair.

“Sometimes hormonal changes can trigger headaches.”

“Stop it, Ross. I am not pregnant,” she repeated, enunciating each word with emphasis.

Really, could the situation be any more ironic? When she’d been pregnant with his child, he’d failed to notice the changes to her routine, to her body. Tonight, when she’d merely felt ill, he’d immediately jumped to that conclusion. Men.

“Are you dating anyone, Brielle?”

Grateful that her eyes were closed and he couldn’t read the truth in her eyes, she held her tongue in check.

“I suppose you’re not answering because you think the answer isn’t any of my business. Maybe you’re right that it’s not. But what you do feels as if it’s my business.” He sighed and it sounded so weary that she opened her eyes, her gaze instantly colliding with his intense blue one.

“I want what you do to be my business, Brielle.”

His admission surprised her.

“Tell me how to make that happen.”

Oh, how sweetly seductive his words were to her heart and yet… “Because you’re here, I’m here, and you have three months to kill?”

“I’m here because of you,” he owned up, his gaze not wavering from hers. “You have to know you’re why I’m here. The only reason I’m here.”

She knew that. On some level she had known. Yet her heart did a jiggly dance in her chest all the same.

“I sought you out, took this job just to be near you, and my sole purpose for being in Bean’s Creek is you.”

Thud. Thud. Thud. Her heart pounded against her ribs. “Why?”

“You know why.”

He was wrong. She didn’t know.

“Sex?” she guessed. Their chemistry seemed to zap as strongly as ever, promising just as volcanic a ride. They’d had a great sex life. A great life period, but physically they’d have won Olympic gold once upon a time. If she were honest with herself, she’d admit that she couldn’t be near him without wanting to rip his clothes off, without wanting to touch him and re-familiarize herself with every aspect of his body.

“If all I wanted was sex, I wouldn’t have had to leave Boston.”

That she didn’t doubt. Of course a gorgeous successful doctor with his looks, charm, and sex appeal would have women falling at his feet. No doubt he’d had many women during the time they’d been apart. Her heart clenched into a tight, painful ball.

“I want you.”

“You want sex with me?”

“Not just sex.” He paused, looked torn. “At least, I don’t think so.” He ran his fingers through his hair then squatted down next to the sofa, met her gaze with his usual confidence. “I want you, Brielle. I want you to look at me the way you used to look at me. I want you to beg me to make love to you over and over until we both collapse in exhaustion and then I want you to tell me you want me again.”

Barely breathing, she shook her head. “Impossible. You can’t have that. Those feelings are gone.”

Yet even as she said the words the urge to beg him to do all those things drummed louder and louder through her head. Lord help her, she wanted that sweet exhaustion he spoke of, that sweet exhaustion she knew he had the power to deliver.

“Are they?” He traced his finger over her lips as if to pound home his question. “I think the attraction is as strong as ever between us.”

That she couldn’t deny. Just his lightest touch had her entire body tingling as if every cell had suddenly woken up after a long hibernation.

“That’s just physical.” Please, let it just be physical. “I’m a grown woman now and know better than acting on just physical.”

Hadn’t she learned that lesson? He’d been a good teacher. So why did recalling all the other things he’d taught her seem so much easier at the moment?

“There was a lot more than just physical between us.”

“Was there?” she asked perversely. “I remember things differently.”

His gaze settled on her mouth. His finger toyed with her lower lip, barely grazing the inner moisture of her mouth. “Tell me what you remember, Brielle. Tell me you remember how your body came alive when I kissed you, how you responded to my slightest touch.” He lifted his finger to his mouth, supped off the taste of her lips. “Tell me you want me to kiss you right now because I see how your pulse is racing, how your breathing is ragged, and how your eyes are eating me up.”

“I don’t want you to kiss me.” She closed her eyes and held her breath, but she couldn’t do a thing about her crazy racing pulse. “Even if I did, all you’ve done is proved my point. Physical. Physical. Physical. Nothing more.”

Ross laughed. A sweet, relaxed, real laugh that sounded so familiar to her aching heart that everything in her went a little haywire.

Or maybe it was the light sweep of his mouth over hers that caused everything to go haywire.

“You taste of heaven, Brielle,” he whispered against her lips. “Sweet, sweet heaven.”

If she tasted of heaven, then he tasted of hell.

His lips were full, sure, full of temptation, hot.

Every cell in her body buzzed alive as if a direct connection had been made to where his lips met hers and he’d taken control of her nerve endings and demanded they deliver ultimate pleasure.

When he pushed his tongue into her mouth, for the briefest moment she considered biting him. But what purpose would that serve? If she wanted him to stop, she’d have stopped him. Instead, she’d parted her lips, let him have his blasted way.

He was right. She wanted this kiss. Had wanted his kiss from the first moment she’d spotted him in the emergency room on his first day at Bean’s Creek.

Who was she kidding?

She’d never stopped wanting him. Not from their very first kiss years ago.

It’s only curiosity, she assured herself as she opened her mouth to his exploration. She just wanted to know if his kisses still set her on fire, if he still pushed her body beyond pleasure and into ecstasy.

The sensual movement of his mouth over hers assured that he did. And more.

His hands threaded into her hair. His fingers caressed her scalp, holding her to him. His touch was gentle, not forcing the embrace, allowing her the freedom to stop him if she desired. He was probably gloating that she wasn’t, that she was so weak that the first time they were alone she was flat on her back, making love to him with her mouth.

Then again, one could argue that it was his mouth loving hers.

That it was his hands moving over her shoulders, down her arms, caressing her as if she were the most prized treasure.

His body that had leaned to hover just above hers.

Kissing her, he stared directly into her eyes. When his mouth lifted from hers, his breath came hard and fast against her lips. “I missed you, Brielle. So much.”

She didn’t answer, because what could she say? He’d been the one to leave, the one to be in the arms of another woman when she’d gone after him mere months later.

Memories of the last time she’d seen him, of his lips on the other woman’s, of how quickly he’d moved on, gave her the strength to push against his chest.

“Stop,” she ordered, wriggling to sit up on his sofa. “That wasn’t appropriate.”

He wiped his finger across his lips. Whether he was savoring their kiss or wiping it away, she wasn’t sure. “You were as curious as I was. Admit it.”

Curious? He had no idea.

“No.”

“Not admitting to the attraction between us doesn’t make it any less real,” he pointed out, with way too much logic when her head was spinning.

“Doesn’t matter.” Why could she still feel his kiss? Taste him? She didn’t want to remember. Didn’t want to have new memories of him. “None of this matters. There are others involved.”

His brows formed a V. “I’m not seeing anyone.”

Wondering if she’d said too much, she closed her eyes. “That’s not what I meant.”

“There is someone in your life?”

She took a deep breath, knowing the truth was the best policy even if she’d rather not admit it. “There is.”

He swore under his breath, seemed to consider his options and make a decision all in under ten seconds. His face serious, his expression pure dominant male in warrior mode, he met her gaze. “Then he is in for the fight of his life because I want what’s mine.”

Taken aback, she gulped. “What’s yours?”

“You. You’re mine, Brielle. You always have been. You always will be.”

“No.” She shook her head in denial. “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not yours.” Needing movement, distance between them, she rose from the sofa, straightened her uniform. “I haven’t been from the moment you left me for Boston. Take me home.”

Ross drove in silence, trying to decipher what had happened between him and Brielle. Had he taken her to his apartment in the hope of luring her into his bed?

He certainly wanted her enough that subconsciously perhaps he had hoped the evening would end with her realizing how right the chemistry between them was. Either way, he’d failed miserably. One hot, explosive kiss that had filled his head with fantasies and she’d pushed him away, demanding to be driven home.

“You wanted that kiss as much as I did.”

“Do we have to talk about that again?” At his nod, she sighed as if needing lots of patience. “Fine. If your ego needs to believe that, you go right ahead and believe that I’ve done nothing but pine away for your kisses since you walked out.”

His ego wasn’t what needed to believe that she wanted his kisses. He daren’t name what body part needed to believe.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the one she’d probably guess.

“What happened between us was a long time ago, Brielle. We were younger, still had a lot to learn about life. I had a lot to learn about life, about who I was and what I wanted out of a relationship. Don’t you think you owe it to us to let go of your anger at me for leaving?”

“Fine.”

Was that her favorite word these days or what?

“You’re right. What happened between us was a long time ago, best forgotten. We’ll just be professional colleagues, nothing more.”

If their discussion wasn’t so serious, he could laugh at that. “You and I can never be just professional colleagues. Our kiss was proof enough of that.”

“That kiss was a mistake.”

“Why? Because of this man you’re involved with?” His fingers gripped the steering-wheel tighter at the thought of another man touching Brielle, of another man kissing her lips or holding her affections. “Whatever is between you can’t be serious because no one at the hospital is aware he exists. I asked your friend Cindy if you were dating anyone. She said no. I asked Samantha, too, and she also denied that you were involved with anyone.” He paused, thinking of Vann’s girlfriend, whom he and Brielle had often double dated with during their heyday. “After she told me where I could go, of course.”

Brielle’s face pinched and she opened her mouth as if to say something then clamped her lips closed. “This is crazy. Why are you here? Why are you doing this after all this time? Just tell me and be done with it.”

He didn’t understand the strain to her voice. Yes, he’d ended their relationship, but it wasn’t as if he’d done her wrong. He hadn’t cheated or bad-mouthed her or abused her in any way that he knew of. When he’d moved out, he’d even paid the rent on their apartment for three months to give her time to find a new roommate to help with expenses.

“I told you I want you in my life,” he reminded her. “I’ve missed you.”

She clenched her hands in her lap, shook her head as if to shake his words away. “Once upon a time I’d have given anything to hear you say that.”

He didn’t miss her use of past tense. “But not any more?”

The skin pulled tight over her pale face. She shook her head again. “Surely you didn’t believe I’ve spent the last five years waiting for you to grow up?”

“My growing up wasn’t the issue.” Wanting to expand his learning experiences hadn’t been childish or immature. He’d been a man given an amazing opportunity and he’d taken it. Their relationship had been strained with her sudden desire to walk down the aisle and him knowing he wasn’t ready for that, not at that point in his career and life. “I know you’ve gone on with your life, just as I have. That doesn’t mean what is between us is finished. It’s not.”

After kissing her tonight, being swamped with all the old feelings but also new stronger emotions too, he was beginning to believe what was between Brielle and himself would never be finished.

“Don’t bring up this man you’re involved with,” he warned, before she could toss that in his face. “Because you don’t love him.”

Twisting in her car seat to stare more fully at him, her gaze narrowed to tiny slits. “How could you possibly know that I don’t love him?”

He pulled to a stop at a red traffic light then faced her, daring her to deny the truth of what he was about to say. “Because if you were in love with him you wouldn’t have kissed me. Not at all and certainly not with that passion.”

“You’re wrong,” she countered, her smile scaring him. “I love him more than I’ve ever loved any man, anyone. He’s my whole world.”

Truth echoed from each word she spoke.

Ross stared at her, unable to label the crushing sensation in his chest. Denial shot through him. Strong denial. “No, you don’t. Maybe you think you do, but you don’t. You’ve not changed that much. You wouldn’t kiss me if you were in love with another man. You aren’t the type of woman to do that.”

A need as potent as any as he’d ever felt hit him. A need to feel her lips against his, to reassure himself of exactly what he’d felt when he’d kissed her. No way had he imagined the emotion zapping back and forth between them when their bodies had touched.

That hadn’t been just physical. He’d felt … more.

He leaned forward, intent on reminding her of those emotions, but she put her hand up, shook her head.

“Don’t.”

“Scared?”

“Of you?” She laughed but without any humor. “You won’t hurt me, Ross. Not ever again, because I won’t let you.”

Was that what she thought he wanted?

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

“I doubt you meant to hurt me last time either.”

Her barb stuck deep. “But I did hurt you.”

It wasn’t really a question, but she answered anyway, her expression holding steady except for the slightest quiver of her lower lip. He hated that he’d caused the pain that lay behind that quiver.

“What do you think?”

That he’d been an idiot to leave this woman when she’d loved him with all her heart and had made him happier than he recalled being at any other time during his life.

“I loved you, Ross.” Her voice was loaded with emotion. “And I believed you felt the same about me, that we would be spending the rest of our lives together. Of course it hurt when you left.”

She’d loved him. His ribcage clamped down around his lungs at her heartfelt admission. He’d known she had, had heard her say the words in the past, but that had been in the past. He hadn’t heard those words from her lips in five long years. She’d thought they were going to spend the rest of their lives together? She’d been ready for that then? In the midst of whatever relationship crisis they’d been going through she’d thought wedding bells would fix everything?

“Is that why you went crazy with bridal magazines and talking about getting married all the time?” he mused.

Shock dawned into realization in her golden-brown gaze. “That’s why you left? Because I started talking about getting married and you had cold feet because you weren’t in love with me and didn’t want to marry me?”

“Regardless of how we felt about each other, we weren’t ready for marriage.”

“You never said you loved me,” she reminded him, her voice catching. “Not a single time during the two years we were together did you ever say you loved me.”

She had him there. He hadn’t ever told any woman that he loved her, not even Brielle.

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