His Forbidden Love (Manhattan Billionaires #2) - Ava Ryan Page 0,24

offering her hand and a glorious smile.

“Ah. The famous Kelly. I’ve heard good things.” He shoots me a quick look before hastily wiping his free hand on the dry part of his T-shirt and shaking Kelly’s hand. “Sorry. I’m a mess.”

Yep, I think glumly. He’s exactly the kind of sweaty mess a woman wants between her legs and pressing her deep into the mattress for the fucking of a lifetime.

“You’re going back to the hospital?” I ask.

“Back to the office, actually,” he says with a rueful smile. “Paperwork. But at least I get my loaded nachos. I had a taste for them. I want to make sure they’re as good as I remember.”

I try not to attach any significance to the fact that he also likes loaded nachos. Everyone likes loaded nachos.

On the other hand, he jogs. I jog.

Not everyone jogs.

Take Bruce, for instance.

“You should go home. Rest. You’ve been in surgery all day,” I tell him, trying to keep my simmering obsession with him at bay.

“Eh. Home is a little too quiet these days.” He says it with the air of someone determined to be upbeat about his circumstances, but there’s no missing the veiled sadness and loneliness. Something about his melancholy mood—there’s a word I don’t use every day: melancholy—touches me. More than that, it makes my heart ache. For reasons I am determined not to explore. “Looks like I’m interrupting margarita night. I’ll get out of here and leave you to it. Before the manager comes over and kicks me out because of my farm animal smell.”

“I would’ve characterized it as more of a smoked gym bag smell,” I say, now too flustered to look him in the eye as I hastily reach for my drink to give myself something to do. “But anyway. Have a great night.”

“You too, Harlow,” he says, laughing again.

God.

That husky, deep-throated sound does me in every time. It’s like an endless shiver over my skin that awakens hidden nerve endings all up and down my body.

He lingers as though there’s something else he wants to say.

I keep drinking, afraid to do anything else. Especially look at him.

And all I can think is how unfair this situation is.

Look, I know I shouldn’t have taken the job with him. I know I’m wildly attracted to him. But I’m trying to do the right thing here. I’m minding my own business, trying to have a drink with my BFF before going home to video-chat with my boyfriend. A great guy who’s willing to move to NYC to be with me. I didn’t ask for Dr. Jamison to show up like that and scramble my sensitive female circuits. But he did. And now I feel like my thoughts and all my best intentions have been poisoned. I feel as though he keeps throwing pebbles in my pond and making far-reaching ripples where there should be none.

Worst of all, I have no idea what to do about my situation.

No fucking idea at all.

I just know that this is all a million times harder than I thought it would be.

“Well,” he finally says, giving up on me and turning to Kelly. “Great meeting you.”

“You too,” she says.

He walks off.

I lower my empty glass to the table and make a production out of straightening my napkin, awaiting Kelly’s reaction with dread.

“That’s the Sphinx?” she asks, more than a little breathless.

“That’s him,” I say grimly.

“Oh my God.” She reaches around for her purse, gets up, slings it over her shoulder and turns toward the bathroom, still looking dazed. “Oh my God.”

Exactly.

She walks off, but not before muttering two words I really wish I could un-hear.

“Poor Bruce.”

8

Michael

“I don’t know what your fascination is with hospitals,” I say several days later as my twin sister and I continue our leisurely circuit of the nurses’ station and head toward the double doors leading to the atrium. “Most people try to avoid them.”

Mia frowns at me. “I am allowed to take an interest in your life and see where you work. Especially when you get a great new office suite.”

“That’s fair,” I say. “But you’ve already seen my new office. Why can’t we go to lunch like normal people? Why do we have to make this detour through the ER?”

“Because it makes me feel like I’m in an episode of Grey’s Anatomy,” she says happily, looking around for any sign of action. The place is crowded and busy, but it’s a controlled chaos. The way we like to keep it. “I keep waiting for