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," he repeated. For a reason completely unknown to himself, he stroked her jaw. "What are we going to do about it?"
"Nothing, nothing at all. I'm too busy, and you … you're back to your own life, Dr. Universe. Thanks for the help the last two weekends, but your services are no longer needed or required."
Since he spent most of his life being needed in one form or another, this should have been a welcome break. She was right, he should be celebrating. "Fine."
"Fine."
Now he felt tense again. "You really feeling better?"
"Sure."
Yeah, and he was Santa Claus. "What did you last eat?"
"I had a nice big pasta salad for lunch, a good healthy snack of carrots—"
"Dinner, Faith. Something with protein."
"By dinner I was sick," she admitted. "I didn't want to eat."
"You need a keeper, you know that?"
"I've been on my own for a long time. For forever. I'm my own keeper."
"Well then, damn it, do a better job. Where's your family?"
"Africa, if you must know. They're missionaries. And before you ask, I have a sister, but she's in Europe. She works as a traveling midwife there."
So she was as alone as he was. "They're as dedicated as you."
"More. They give everything they have to their jobs, over everything else. At least I still manage to have a life."
"Really? When?"
She looked away. "Sometimes."
He didn't like the hint of sadness in her eyes, or the knowledge that her parents had put their work ahead of their children, much the way his own had. "And so you're completely alone." The way he was. Damn it, why had he started this conversation?
"I have the clinic."
Yeah, the clinic. Which brought them full circle. "Just tell me why you released me from my duties here."
"You're a smart man," she whispered, stepping back, away from his touch. "You figure it out."
"But—"
"Good night, Luke." With a gentle shove, she put him back out into the night.
The door shut behind him, but when he turned, there was a definite gap between the wood and the jamb. He stared at it uneasily. "Put a chair beneath the knob," he said to
"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," he repeated. For a reason completely unknown to himself, he stroked her jaw. "What are we going to do about it?"
"Nothing, nothing at all. I'm too busy, and you … you're back to your own life, Dr. Universe. Thanks for the help the last two weekends, but your services are no longer needed or required."
Since he spent most of his life being needed in one form or another, this should have been a welcome break. She was right, he should be celebrating. "Fine."
"Fine."
Now he felt tense again. "You really feeling better?"
"Sure."
Yeah, and he was Santa Claus. "What did you last eat?"
"I had a nice big pasta salad for lunch, a good healthy snack of carrots—"
"Dinner, Faith. Something with protein."
"By dinner I was sick," she admitted. "I didn't want to eat."
"You need a keeper, you know that?"
"I've been on my own for a long time. For forever. I'm my own keeper."
"Well then, damn it, do a better job. Where's your family?"
"Africa, if you must know. They're missionaries. And before you ask, I have a sister, but she's in Europe. She works as a traveling midwife there."
So she was as alone as he was. "They're as dedicated as you."
"More. They give everything they have to their jobs, over everything else. At least I still manage to have a life."
"Really? When?"
She looked away. "Sometimes."
He didn't like the hint of sadness in her eyes, or the knowledge that her parents had put their work ahead of their children, much the way his own had. "And so you're completely alone." The way he was. Damn it, why had he started this conversation?
"I have the clinic."
Yeah, the clinic. Which brought them full circle. "Just tell me why you released me from my duties here."
"You're a smart man," she whispered, stepping back, away from his touch. "You figure it out."
"But—"
"Good night, Luke." With a gentle shove, she put him back out into the night.
The door shut behind him, but when he turned, there was a definite gap between the wood and the jamb. He stared at it uneasily. "Put a chair beneath the knob," he said to
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