Luke Read online

  Carmen used her good hand to hit him upside the head.

  Luke grinned. “See? You’re feeling better already.”

  Faith held the door open. “So…see you next Saturday.”

  His gaze met hers over the top of Carmen’s head. The humor was gone now, and suddenly she braced herself. He was going to say he wasn’t coming back.

  Which, really, would be fine. More than fine. They rubbed each other the wrong way, they…also rubbed each other the right way.

  “Next week,” he agreed softly, and then he was gone, leaving her staring out into the night, wondering if she felt relieved…or terrified.

  * * *

  ON MONDAY MORNING LUKE was called into Leo’s office at the hospital. “Good news,” his friend boomed. “Faith McDowell gave you a glowing recommendation. You must have made quite an impression these last two weeks, with all those hot oil therapies and healing touches.”

  Luke opened his mouth, saw the twinkle in Leo’s eyes and relaxed. “Sure. Make fun. You’re not the one having to give up two and a half months more of Saturdays.”

  “You don’t either.”

  “What?”

  Leo lifted a brow. “She released you. Said that while she was impressed with your grasp of alternative healing techniques—”

  Luke snorted.

  Leo shot him a long look. “You don’t need to fulfill the rest of your time at the clinic.”

  Faith had released him from his duty.

  This was just about the last thing he expected. He waited for the elation. For the satisfaction. For the sheer overwhelming relief.

  Leo laughed at his confusion. “I thought you’d be dancing in the hallways at the news.”

  “Yeah.” Luke walked the length of the office and looked out the window. Dancing in the hallways? He would, but suddenly his stomach had fallen to a region somewhere near his toes. “Leo—”

  Leo’s pager went off. “Sorry, gotta run.”

  Yeah. So did Luke. The E.R. was full and they were short staffed. Over the rest of the day he removed two spleens, set a broken hip, stitched up a motorcyclist…and never stopped thinking about Healing Waters. Faith.

  Why had she released him? She needed him, she’d said so. She needed his visible, public support. She needed the free additional medical staff. She needed…him.

  He couldn’t shake it, which was the only reason he stopped by the clinic after his shift instead of going home. It had nothing, nothing at all, to do with wanting to see her again.

  No one answered his knock downstairs, but that made sense as the clinic was always closed on Mondays. Going around the back, he took the stairs, which were lined with potted plants. On her porch sat a comfy looking wooden swing. Her back door had a large window in it, lined with lace, which allowed him a clear look into her lit kitchen.

  And what his clear look afforded him stopped his heart.

  Faith, slumped on the floor.

  CHAPTER 5

  LUKE FUMBLED FOR Faith’s door. Finding it locked, he stepped back, then charged it. With far less brute strength than he could have imagined, the door shuddered open.

  She hadn’t budged. She had her back to the cabinets, her arms around her drawn-up knees and her head down, and was far too still.

  He dropped to his knees beside her. “Faith.”

  Slowly, as if it hurt to move, she lifted her head. Her face was ashen, and when he cupped her jaw in his shaking hands, she was damp with sweat. “Don’t touch me,” she said. “I’m getting sick.”

  He slid his hand through a tangle of long red hair. “The flu?” He stroked her hair from her face, felt her forehead. She was cool, even cold.

  “It always happens when I let myself get run down. It’s an old virus, and I felt it coming for two weeks. I’m all shaky and dizzy. Damn it.”

  He might have smiled at her petulant tone, if his heart wasn’t still threatening to burst right out of his chest. “You don’t have a fever.”

  “So?”

  “So when did you eat last?”

  Scowling at him, she pushed him away and made to get up, but he slid his hands to her hips and held her down.

  She glared at him.

  “Stay.” Surging to his feet, he went to her refrigerator and pulled out a carton of orange juice. He brought it to her. “Drink.”

  “From the carton?” she asked with such horror he laughed.

  “Just a few sips.”

  “I’d rather have some tea. You don’t by any chance know how to make purple coneflower tea?”

  “Huh?”

  “Echinacea. It’s used to boost the immune system, and also as an antibiotic.”

  Luke just stared at her.

  “Oh, never mind.” Leaning her head back against the counter, she tipped the carton up and took a swig.

  He watched a drop escape her lips and glide down her chin, gaining momentum and hitting a breast. For some oddly inappropriate reason, his mouth watered. He swallowed hard. “Still dizzy?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Then keep your eyes open.” He kept his gaze on hers. With his hands already on her body, it was the safest route, though it was a little shocking to realize he needed a safe route. “It’ll help.”

  When she shot him a daggered look, he lifted a shoulder. “Hey, once a doctor…” He watched her take another sip of juice, and some color came back into her cheeks. Satisfied, he leaned back on his heels and let out a breath. “Well. That was fun.”

  “Sorry.” Leaning back against the counter, she studied the ceiling. “You can give me some room now.”

  Yeah. Yeah, he probably could. Clearly she didn’t want him hovering any more than he wanted to hover, so he scooted back a bit.

  Better. Definitely better.

  Too bad he couldn’t forget the feel of her in his hands, and doubted he would anytime soon.

  “Did you break my door?”

  “Easily. Christ, Faith, anyone could break in here.”

  “Well, lucky for me, no one but you wanted to.” Staggering to her feet, she shoved her hair out of her face and sighed. “I feel a little better.”

  He opened his mouth to say something to that, something pithy he was certain, but she narrowed her eyes on him. “So why are you here?”

  “I—” He blinked. Why had he come? He looked into her green, green eyes and tried to remember. “You told the hospital you don’t need me anymore.”

  She stared at him, then let out a low laugh. “And that bothered you? I thought you’d be celebrating.”

  “Why, Faith?”

  “Why? My God, Luke.” She scrubbed her hands over her face and finally dropped them to her sides, looking tired, so very tired he had to fight the urge to move close again. To put his hands back on her and—

  “Look, I’m not up for this.” Still looking a bit too shaky for his comfort, she moved to the open door, and waited expectantly for him to obey her silent command and scram.

  “Gee,” he said. “I guess we’re done talking.”

  “So done.”

  “Are you always cranky when you don’t eat?”

  “I told you, I have a vir—”

  “Virus,” he said at the same time as her, and shaking his head, he moved to the door and shut it. “So.” He leaned into her, and yet again his pulse jumped, and so did hers. He could see it beating furiously at the base of her throat. “Is it really that you don’t feel good, or was it the shock of attraction when I touched you?”

  Her mouth tightened, but she remained stubbornly mute.

  “Yeah,” he said softly. “Thought so.”

  “You are the most egotistical man I’ve ever met.”

  “Egotistical?” He let out a rough laugh. “Faith, I put my hands on you in a purely nonsexual way and it jolted me to my toes. Is it ‘egotistical’ to admit that terrifies me?”

  She bit her lower lip, a sexy little gesture that didn’t help matters any. “Okay, maybe I felt it, too. A little.”

  “A little,�