rocketed through him, he brought himself up short. He was jealous. He—a man who’d never had a jealous bone in his body—was feeling totally and thoroughly possessive about a woman he’d never even had a right to claim as his own. Well, hell. He was going to have to take a good long look at the reason for that, just not right now. Right now, he had to get across the room and protect his interests, even if he wasn’t entirely sure why it mattered so much.
Kelly noticed him before her companion did. She frowned when she realized that he was heading straight for her, even though she was in the midst of a private conversation.
“Bill, I’ve got a client scheduled, and he’s here now,” she said. “I’ll see you tonight at seven.”
The doctor glanced in Michael’s direction, gave him a distracted greeting, then turned his disgustingly toothy, white smile on Kelly. “I’ll look forward to it.”
“You didn’t waste much time, did you?” Michael said sourly when Kelly finally turned to him.
“I beg your pardon?”
“Big date with the doc tonight, or did I misunderstand?”
“Whether I have a date with Dr. Burroughs tonight or not is none of your business,” she told him coldly. “Are you ready to get to work today?”
He scowled at the dismissal of his question, but decided not to make an issue of it right now. First things first. He needed to get back on his feet, so he could show the doctor a thing or two about which of them was the better man.
By the time she got through the tense therapy session with Michael, Kelly’s nerves were strained to the limit. It took everything in her not to go whining to Moira and ask that she recommend another therapist for him. The truth was, she didn’t want to give up the time with him. And she wanted to be the one there with Michael when he walked on his own again.
She prayed that a hot shower and fifteen minutes of rest would improve her mood before her date. She had known Bill Burroughs for a couple of years now. He frequently referred his orthopedic patients to her when they needed rehab. He was attractive, intelligent and on his way to being filthy rich, even in today’s fiscally tightfisted medical environment. He actually treated her as if she were a precious commodity. Most women would have been flattered, perhaps even charmed by his attentiveness and respect.
All Kelly could think about was the cantankerous man who’d kissed her till her toes curled, then apologized for making a joke out of it. Her teenage crush was turning into a full-blown case of grown-up lust, one she was determined to ignore if she and Michael were to go on working together. This date was supposed to help her accomplish that.
And it should have. It really should have. Bill pulled out all the stops. He took her to an elegant, romantic restaurant, ordered the finest champagne, told her how beautiful she looked.
When the orchestra played, he held her in his arms as if she were more fragile than spun glass and more valuable than diamonds. She gazed up into his dark brown eyes and wished they were other eyes, crystal-blue eyes.
“You seem distracted,” Bill said. “Worried about one of your patients?”
“In a way,” she said, hoping he’d let the subject drop.
He gave her one of his brilliant smiles, but suddenly it seemed practiced and artificial, not like the blinding sunlight of one of Michael’s rare smiles.
“Do you want to talk about it? Maybe I can help.”
And he would, too. Bill was always generous with his time, always willing to offer treatment suggestions whenever she had doubts about the appropriate course for a particular patient. Now, though, she shook her head. “Thanks, that’s okay.”
He led the way back to their table, then studied her for a long time. “You need a break, Kelly. You’ve been working too hard.”
“No time,” she said.
“Make time,” he said firmly. “If there’s one thing I’ve had to learn, it’s that too much work winds up being counterproductive. You end up making bad decisions when you’re under stress.”
She heard what he was saying and knew he was right. Maybe she could use a break, even a week away might bring some perspective to the whole situation. And a week off from his therapy wouldn’t set Michael back that much, or if he insisted, Moira or someone else could fill in.
“I’ll think about it,” she promised Bill.
His gaze