Read Online It's in His Touch by Shelly Alexander - Free Book Online

him.
    “But for the record, I sleep just fine.” She swirled more noodles onto her fork.
    In what? He almost asked out loud, because if the panties were any indication . . .
    “There are two sides to every story, Dr. Holloway.” A long, slender finger traced the edge of her wine glass. “Think of it this way. You’re trained to give medical attention to anyone who needs it, regardless of who they are, what wrongs they may have committed against you or anyone else, right?”
    Hell. He already knew where this was going. He nodded, feeling like he was on trial.
    “So if a criminal came into your office, or needed your services in some way, you wouldn’t turn them away?”
    “Absolutely not. It’s against the oath I took. I may not like it, but I’d do it anyway, because it’s the job I swore to do.”
    Turning a palm up, she lifted her bare shoulder. “I live by the same set of rules, just a different profession.”
    “But after I treated the criminal, I’d call the police and turn him in.”
    She laughed, a wine-laden huskiness threading through the sound. “Touché. But you don’t get to determine who deserves medical treatment and who doesn’t. It’s the same thing in our judicial system. Everyone is entitled to representation, just as they’re also entitled to medical care.”
    “Still doesn’t change the fact that the little guy usually loses because the system is stacked against him.”
    She looked away, fingered the stem of her glass, then regained her composure.
    Obviously, he and the rest of the business owners were in trouble. Angelique Barbetta didn’t seem to have a shred of mercy when it came to doing her job.
    “So what am I supposed to do? Walk away from a job that’s all I have left . . .” She paled, snapped her mouth shut, and pushed her glass away. Obviously the wine was talking for her, and it had just said too much. “I can’t just leave a client who has legal rights hanging because a few people deem the case as unfair.” She shook her head. “It’s called progress, Doctor.”
    He swiped the napkin across his mouth and tossed it on the table. The chair scraped against the wood floor when he shoved it back. “It’s called ruining the livelihoods of good, hardworking, salt-of-the-earth people.”
    Like him. He was one of the small-town folks who stood to lose everything, and then where would he be? He wouldn’t have the capital to start over here. He’d have to move back to a big city where he could make some real money to pay off his medical school loans. A big city where doctors were robots and patients didn’t have names, they had file numbers.
    He stood, his chair clawing against the wood floor again. “Thanks for dinner.”
    She stood, too. “I’m not trying to upset you. This is just a friendly debate.”
    He scoffed. “Easy for you to say when it’s not your life at stake.”
    “Tonight was supposed to be a truce, remember? Enemies tomorrow, friends tonight,” she said.
    He had no idea what possessed him to do what he did next. Her eyes widened as he closed the space between them.
    His hand went to her neck, and she drew in a rocky breath but stood her ground. He’d expected nothing less from her. With the tip of an index finger, he traced down her creamy neck and across a strapless shoulder, her skin quivering under his touch.
    “There’s something you should know,” he mumbled, staring into her dark eyes.
    “Wh . . . what?” She trembled, and her voice shook.
    So he affected her, the same way she affected him. Another sliver of intel he could file away for future use. Leaning in so his nose almost touched hers, he put a finger under her chin and tipped it up so her eyes met his.
    “I’m not giving up without a fight.” He brushed a thumb over her bottom lip.
    A rush of desire hit him so hard his chest constricted. Before he caved in like a bamboo hut in a typhoon and caught her up in his arms, he pulled away and headed to the door. The last