sliced into his throat. “The fun is just about to start.”
* * *
Lynne pressed tightly against Kir as they snuggled in the middle of her bed. It was deliciously unfamiliar. Usually she encouraged her partner to leave as soon as sex was over. Most mornings she had to get up ridiculously early. And of course, there was the very real possibility she would get an emergency call in the middle of the night. It only made sense for her date to go home so she could sleep uninterrupted.
At least that was what she told herself, and her partner.
Now she realized she asked them to leave because she didn’t want them to stay. She loved her privacy. Especially after a hectic day jam-packed with animals and their owners. Peace and quiet were treasures she guarded with jealous zeal.
Kir was different. She had her arms wrapped tightly around his waist as if she was ready to physically prevent him from moving away.
The thought should have horrified her. She never, ever wanted to be one of those clingy women who were willing to sacrifice their intelligence and pride when it came to men. But holding on to Kir didn’t feel like a sacrifice. It felt . . . right. Wondrously, gloriously right.
Tilting back her head, Lynne glanced at the man who was turning her world upside down. She’d expected to find him smiling with a smug satisfaction. After all, he’d made her scream in pleasure. More than once. In fact, they’d made love three times. Each one better than the last.
Instead she found him staring at the ceiling, his brows pulled together in a frown.
She propped herself on her elbow, a portion of her pleasure fading. Was he regretting what had just happened between them? Maybe wondering how to get out of there without hurting her feelings?
The thought made her mouth dry and her heart thud with a slow, aching unease. “What are you thinking about?”
He turned his head, a wicked smile curving his lips. “I have you naked in my arms. What do you think I’m thinking about?”
There was a heat smoldering in his eyes that assured her that whatever was on his mind, it wasn’t regret. Relief raced through her and she returned her smile. Later she would chastise herself for reacting like a skittish teenager, not a grown, supremely confident woman.
“Even you have limits,” she teased.
His eyes darkened with ready passion. “Is that a challenge?”
“One for later,” she murmured, rubbing her hand over his chest. She loved the feel of his silken skin roughed by golden hair. “Now tell me why you’re frowning.”
“I just realized I didn’t call the office today.”
Oh. It took Lynne a second to process his words. She wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but it wasn’t that. “Is that bad?”
He arched his brows. “Would you forget to check on your clinic?”
“No, but I imagine you have a well-trained staff who are paid a fortune to make things run smoothly,” she said. “I have interns who spend a few months training with me before moving on, and a receptionist who slept with my ex-boyfriend.”
“That’s true.” He rolled on his side so they were face-to-face. “It still doesn’t excuse me.”
She pressed her palm against the center of his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. She hated that Kir was so hard on himself. “Why does it bother you so much?”
“My forgetfulness is either the result of my advanced age, or I’ve made my decision to sell the business and I’m already pulling away.”
Her hand slid up his chest to cup his face in a silent gesture of comfort. “Or it could be that you’re stressed because your dad just died and there’s a serial killer stalking the women in this town,” she suggested in dry tones. “Maybe it just slipped your mind.”
“It’s more than that. I’ve barely thought of Boston since I came back to Pike. It’s like . . .”
“Like what?”
He held her gaze. “Like I’m home.”
A fragile joy swirled through Lynne at his soft words. Was he saying he might return to Pike? Forever?
Careful not to get her expectations too high, Lynne leaned up to press a kiss to the hard line of his jaw. “You are home,” she whispered.
Chapter 19
Dear Rudolf,
Do you know what I hate about kids today? The incessant whining: Oh, I’m misunderstood. Oh, I’m being bullied. Oh, I’m harassed. And all the while they’re pasting their pimpled faces all over the Internet. Look at me, look at me, look at