His Forbidden Love (Manhattan Billionaires #2) - Ava Ryan Page 0,13

poor thing probably hoped to never hear the S-word from my lips again. Having suffered through my obsession with a married man in real time back then, she’s probably hit her lifetime limit of talking me down from ledges where he’s concerned. Still, she plays along like the good friend that she is. “How does he look?”

“Amazing,” I say glumly, mollified that she seems to understand the gravity of the situation. When I mention the Sphinx, I fully expect the same sort of scandalized dismay with which Samantha, Miranda and Charlotte reacted every time Carrie spoke Mr. Big’s name in Sex and the City. “He’s got the tall, dark and handsome thing nailed, only he’s handsomer now. He’s got, I don’t know, these sexy crow’s-feet now. And a little gray through the temples. Your basic nightmare.”

“Damn,” she says sadly. “Seems like he’d gain twenty pounds or go bald or something.”

“I know, right?”

“So? I’m guessing you made idle chitchat? How did you feel? Please tell me you’re over him.”

Meeting her gaze suddenly becomes impossible. “Of course I’m over him,” I say irritably, crossing my legs and adjusting my lab coat over my scrubs. “What kind of fool do you take me for?”

Kelly, being smarter than the average bear, clearly doesn’t believe me for a second. “Ally…” she says, infusing her voice with just the right note of warning. “Don’t do it, girl.”

“Of course I’m not going to do it,” I say vehemently. “My life is going great right now. I’m in a real relationship with a good guy. For once. Just about to finish up my residency and get my career going. As soon as I pass my boards and line up my fellowship, I’ll be good as gold. I’m not going to do anything to screw it up. Including making eyes at the Sphinx. Especially that.”

“Good,” she says firmly. “Because the last thing you need is another downward spiral over a married man.”

Downward spiral.

What a charming euphemism for the depression I battled four years ago, when I let my growing obsession with him get the best of me and needed to take that brief leave of absence to get my head on straight with some counseling and medication. Thank God he moved out west around the same time. Otherwise? I really don’t know how I would have gotten over him.

“I’m aware. But he’s, ah, divorced now. Just FYI.”

“Oh, shit.” She leans forward with the intensity of an attending walking me through a dicey portion of an abdominal surgery. “Ally, I don’t care whether he’s divorced or not. You stay away from him. You’ve got Bruce now. That’s a real relationship with potential. The Sphinx is bad for you. He plays head games.”

“He never did anything wrong,” I say, wondering why I feel this strange compulsion to defend him. “It’s not his fault I threw myself at him.”

“He sent you mixed messages, Ally.”

“He didn’t, though,” I say, my morale plummeting another couple of notches at this reminder that I never even tempted him despite his profound effect on me. Not that I think I’m some modern version of Scheherazade, but still. “He was always a perfect gentleman.”

And yet…

There were moments when I felt…

What, Ally?

You can’t explain it, can you? Even to yourself. Even now.

There were moments when I felt…that he was watching me. That he was standing closer than he needed to. Staring too long. That he was far too aware of me and what I was doing at any given time. That the air buzzed when we were in a room together. Any room.

That we had a connection.

But that’s the thing about sexy married men in positions of power, isn’t it? Every woman in his orbit probably winds up feeling the same way.

Hell, I don’t know. Maybe Kelly’s right about the head games. If so, I’m uniquely susceptible to them.

Besides. A man like that—smart, sexy, billionaire—isn’t thinking about a woman like me—cute, a little too curvy, occasionally bitchy—when he could have anyone. And the sooner I get that through my thick skull and get Dr. Jamison out of my head, the happier I’ll be.

“I’m planning to stay far away from him,” I tell her, meaning it.

“Good,” she says, not bothering to hide her relief. “It’s a big hospital, right? And you’ll be going somewhere else soon for your fellowship. You won’t have to see him at all, I’m hoping.”

“I won’t have to see him at all,” I say, bracing myself for her reaction. “After this meeting I’m about to go