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  The flame that kindled to life in his eyes further belied his words and made her ache in places too long neglected. “Yes you did.”

  He moved a step nearer to her. “There are some things a man just can’t control, querida, no matter how hard he tries. I didn’t ask. I won’t ask.” There was no mistaking the added layer of huskiness in his voice.

  “Don’t come any closer,” she warned, though her words were impotent since she couldn’t possibly bring herself to move, much less run away.

  He stopped, maybe three feet away. “Don’t worry, querida. I have no intention of starting anything neither of us wishes to pursue.”

  Oh, but she did wish to pursue—that was the whole problem. She wanted desperately to do just what she said she wouldn’t do. Piper struggled to keep her gaze locked with his. At this point, looking into those eyes proved more disturbing than gawking at his bare chest. “I wish you’d stop calling me that. I don’t like it.” She lied for good measure. The word, when he said it, made her tremble inside. Made her feel some sort of crazy bond with him.

  “We do have to talk.” His gaze dropped to her mouth.

  Instinctively she licked her lips. A tiny hitch disrupted his breathing and sent anticipation surging through her veins. She liked it that she did that to him. “About what?” she asked, as if she cared about talking. Those dark eyes moved lower, studying the outline of her breasts and the nipples his nearness had turned into hard, jutting peaks.

  “I want you to see your regular doctor, just to be sure everything is all right.” His gaze traveled back to hers. With one flutter of his thickly lashed lids, he blinked away the haze of lust and pinned her with a serious look. “Humor me. It’s just a hunch I have.”

  What was it about this man that made Piper suddenly want to lean on him and allow him to take charge of the insanity she called her life these days? How could she be so vulnerable to his many charms when no one else in her personal or professional life had ever made her feel this way?

  One last look into those tempting eyes and Piper knew what she had to do to save herself.

  “News flash, Martinez. The only hunches I follow are my own, and—” she marshaled her sternest glare “—for future reference, I also decide when I should go to the doctor.” She lifted an eyebrow to punctuate her declaration. “Do you understand me?”

  “Completely,” he acquiesced in a rich, smooth tone emphatic with that sexy accent he so rarely allowed to surface.

  A shiver twirled up her spine. “Good.” Piper turned her back on him, determined to stalk away.

  “Just one last thing,” he urged, ruining her determined exit with a sinfully exotic tone that beckoned her as effectively as if he’d crooked his finger in a hypnotic summons she couldn’t resist.

  Her defenses slipped another notch as she shifted to face him once more. She inclined her head in silent question, afraid if she opened her mouth, she’d say what she wanted to hide. That she wanted to do a great deal more than simply have sex with him. That almost healed lip and just the slightest hint of discoloration on his left cheek reminded her of how he’d stepped between her and danger, only enhancing the irresistible picture. She couldn’t recall ever wanting anyone this badly.

  “Call me Ric,” he suggested, oozing more charm than Antonio Banderas in his finest role. His alluring gaze raked her body so thoroughly that she gasped in spite of herself. “I think we’re definitely past formality,” he added in that too-cocky tone.

  Irritation burrowed its way through the heat and attraction. He knew exactly the effect he was having on her and he was enjoying it. “Ric? Is that short for Richard? If so, why don’t I just call you Dick?” Sugary sweet, her words dripped with sarcasm.

  As fast as lightning, and just as abrupt, he wrapped the long fingers of one hand around her arm and pulled her close. Close enough to feel his citrusy sweet breath on her lips. “I’ve answered to worse,” he murmured, then sealed her lips with his own.

  Ric knew damn well he shouldn’t have. But he did anyway. He kissed her hard, punishingly. She resisted for about two seconds. She had asked for this. His fingers threaded into her silky hair and angled her head. Her lips parted with surrender and he was inside. She was hot and sweet, and he kissed her harder still. His whole body hummed with white-hot desire. He wanted to make love to her, no matter that he shouldn’t. No matter…

  He pulled back. If he didn’t stop now… He released a slow, shaky breath. “You should go in your room and lock your door, querida, because I’m not sure I can trust myself.”

  His hands dropped to his sides and he started to back away, but she stopped him. “Like hell you will. You started this.” She went up on tiptoe, grabbed him by the ears and pulled him back down to her and kissed him until he couldn’t think.

  Unable to deny himself the pleasure of touching her, he slid his arms around her slender waist. Gently he tucked her yielding body closer to his. Her nipples rubbed against his chest, the thin cotton proving no barrier. She sucked on his tongue and Ric growled. Instinctively he squeezed her buttocks, wrenching a groan from her.

  She pulled free of his mouth, her breath as ragged as his. “If not Richard, what, then?” she murmured thickly, as if she really cared at the moment what his full name was.

  She was beautiful.

  He nipped her bottom lip, then licked the softness of it. “Ricardo,” he murmured. He made a path to her ear with the tip of his tongue. “Juan Jose Ricardo Martinez,” he whispered against that sensitive flesh.

  She shivered in response. “Hmmm. Why—” she gasped when his tongue traced the perfection of her delicate ear “—so many names?”

  He angled her head once more so that he could plant a trail of kisses down the slender column of her throat. “My mother,” he explained between moist, lingering kisses, “had four brothers she loved very much. Juan and Jose are two of them.” He drew a slow, languid circle around the fluttering pulse at the base of her throat with his tongue, then blew on it. Piper shivered again. “And my father’s name was Ricardo.”

  She tilted his chin up to cover his mouth with her own. Her kiss was frantic, hungry and was driving him insane. His groin grew heavy with arousal. The need to make love to her was a raging force inside him. He knew he should stop…but he couldn’t. Not with her soft fingers tracing his flesh. Every place she touched felt alive and on fire. He trailed his fingers down her neck, over her shoulder and lower still until he found her breast. Those firm mounds filled his hand, firm and warm. He squeezed gently; she moaned into his mouth. His thumb flicked one ultrasensitive nipple and she shuddered in his arms. His body hardened to the point of pain.

  She rubbed her thigh along the length of his. He cupped her bottom and lifted, aiding her move to better align their bodies. Her legs went up and around his waist. His arousal throbbed in anticipation of her moist heat. The hot feel of her singed him, even through the fabric barriers standing between them.

  Piper pulled her mouth free of his and made a tiny sound of distress. It took Ric a moment to realize that the sound was from pain not pleasure. Realization made him stagger. The tiny incision at her belly button.

  “Damn.” He gently lowered her feet back to the floor, his eyes searching her face. She bit her lip to quell the wince, but not before he saw the depth of it. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, querida.”

  Her cheeks stained with color. She backed away a couple of steps. “You didn’t hurt me,” she said, staring at the floor. “I didn’t think. It was me. I…” She shook her head. “I didn’t think,” she repeated.

  Ric passed a hand over his face and let go a heavy breath. “I don’t believe either of us were thinking.”

  She straightened her oversize T-shirt, still looking anywhere but at him. “You’re right. We both got a little carried away.”

  Ric gestured vaguely. “You’re sure you’re okay? I didn’t…” He should have remembered. Where was his mind? Below his belt, that’s where.

  She nodded, finally
meeting his gaze. “Really, I’m okay.”

  “And you’re sure I can’t talk you into checking this out with your doctor?” Why not give it another shot? Whatever had happened between them was over now. And that was good, even if his throbbing body didn’t think so. He licked his lips and savored the taste of her.

  She sighed. “I’m okay, really. Stop worrying. The doctor said everything was fine. The pain is gone except for the soreness related to the stitches.” She forked her fingers through her hair and angled her head toward her shoulder in a shrug of sorts. “If I have even the slightest twinge that doesn’t feel like healing stitches, I promise I’ll go straight to my regular doctor.” She smiled. Ric’s heart thumped at the sweet gesture. She was so beautiful. “I’ll even let you take me there if it’ll make you feel better.”

  Unable to help himself, he reached out and brushed her cheek with his knuckles. She didn’t quite welcome the contact. She stiffened, but didn’t move away. He trailed his fingers down her arm until he found her hand, then he squeezed it gently. “I’ll hold you to that, querida.”

  “I should—” she hitched a thumb in the direction of her room “—get some sleep. And so should you. It’s late,” she added quickly.

  Before Ric could say good-night, she pivoted and strode toward her door. As he turned to head back to the living room, she suddenly spoke, drawing his attention back to her.

  “Do me a favor, would you, Martinez?”

  Ric resisted the urge to shake his head. So they were back to Martinez. She was one hardheaded lady. “Name it,” he encouraged with as much innuendo as possible.

  She blinked rapidly to cover her surprise at his blatantly suggestive tone. “Keep your shirt on, would you?” She gave him one of those no-nonsense, all-business looks that could make a man wonder if ice water ran through her veins. “It’s—” she flared her hands and indicated his bare chest “—very distracting.”

  He smiled widely, wickedly, at her, then smoothed a palm over his chest. Her gaze followed the movement. “I’ve been known to have that effect on women.” He winked. “I’ll try to remember to keep my shirt on in the future since you’re having trouble with control.”

  Her eyes rounded and her mouth dropped open, but Ric gave her his back and walked away before she could say anything.

  He smiled to himself as he settled back on her sofa. It was nice to know he wasn’t the only one having a hard time maintaining control.

  But one of them would damn well have to, and it might as well be him.

  He just had to figure out how.

  Chapter Eight

  Piper stood in her bedroom and contemplated facing Martinez this morning. She pressed her palms and forehead against the cool flat surface of her door and chastised herself once more for allowing that second kiss. She made a disparaging sound in her throat. “Right, Ryan,” she muttered. It wasn’t the kiss that had been so bad, it was the way she’d tried to climb right inside his skin.

  Disgusted, she whirled and sagged against the door. There was nothing like making a fool of oneself to bring a girl’s self-esteem down a few degrees. She’d all but attacked the guy like a horny teenager. The only thing that had stopped her from really screwing up was the stinging reminder of her recent trip to the hospital. Reality had crashed down around her then. Big-time.

  Piper straightened and squared her shoulders. It was simple. She’d just tell Martinez he had to go home—to Mr. Rizzoli’s—where he belonged. He couldn’t stay all night with her again. His being this close in the middle of the night would likely prove too tempting for even a saint. Anyway, she felt fine now. Just a little tenderness around the stitches, which was expected.

  Except she was obviously losing her mind. It had to be that stupid diary entry coming back to haunt her. The memory of her and Darlene’s silly proposal of the necessary male qualities had obviously planted some silly notion in her subconscious. Between that and the fact that she hadn’t had sex in a year, she was vulnerable to Martinez’s numerous charms.

  That had to be it.

  The only thing she had to do was get rid of him.

  Decision made, Piper took a deep breath and faced the door with the intention of putting her plan in motion. The telephone rang as she reached for the doorknob. Grateful for any sort of reprieve, however temporary, she hurried to her bedside table and snatched up the receiver.

  “Ryan.”

  “Miss Ryan—” the voice was male, and there was a slight hesitation “—this is Keith at the station.”

  She instantly went into reporter mode. “What’s up, Keith?” She glanced at the clock on the bedside table and winced, 10:00 a.m. She never slept this late. She supposed she wouldn’t have this morning if she’d been able to sleep after that kiss. It had been almost 5:00 a.m. before she’d finally fallen back to sleep. Those tantalizing fantasies featuring Martinez had taunted her both before and after she’d finally dropped off into a fretful sleep. She had to find a way to get this guy out of her system. Piper never, ever had this kind of trouble staying focused.

  “Look, I know you’re supposed to be off today, and Mr. Sullenger would probably have my hide if he knew I was calling you.” Keith fell silent then…as if realizing the truth in his own words.

  Impatient, Piper frowned. “Don’t worry about Dave. What’s the problem?”

  “Well, you know that open house Mrs. Carlisle is having to showcase the proposed new hospital wing?”

  Piper massaged her forehead with the tips of her fingers. The open house was scheduled for next week. Today was Thursday; surely they hadn’t canceled at this late date. “Has it been rescheduled?”

  “No, it’s still on,” Keith explained quickly. “But dear old Mrs. Carlisle called this morning and invited you to an impromptu luncheon with the hospital board of directors and a couple of the new wing’s benefactors.”

  Only Mrs. Carlisle could have a whole board of directors and assorted wealthy businessmen scrambling to reschedule their days at the drop of a hat.

  “Where and when?” Piper asked automatically. One didn’t tell an influential lady like Mrs. Carlisle “no” or offer excuses. Not if one wanted to stay on the top of the food chain in this town anyway.

  “Mr. Sullenger’s going to be upset that I called.” Keith stalled, hesitant again.

  “Just tell him that Mrs. Carlisle called me at home. He’ll never know the difference.”

  “Okay. I just don’t want to get into trouble.” The desk assistant sighed. “But I knew you wouldn’t like it if I didn’t tell you.”

  “You’re right.” Piper was already at her closet shuffling through her wardrobe possibilities. “Whether I’m taking a day off or not, Keith, I’d like to have all my messages. Understood?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Piper listened as Keith relayed the time and place of the luncheon. She glanced at the clock and, grimacing, noted that she had less than an hour. The location, a ritzy restaurant that catered to the Atlanta elite, cinched her attire decision. The lavender sheath. She’d bought the dress a month ago, but hadn’t worn it yet. Once she’d gotten it home and actually tried it on, she’d realized her mistake. She hated the buttons up the back. From collar to hem, one little annoying button after the other. But she looked good in it and it was pretty classy. Mrs. Carlisle would like it. In television, impression was everything, though it was one of Piper’s least favorite parts of the job. Her mother had, admittedly, attempted to mold Piper into the perfect, confident female, but she hadn’t been totally successful.

  Deep inside, where it counted most, Piper didn’t feel so confident. But if she was smart, no one would ever know that little secret but her. In this cutthroat business of shifting power and colliding egos, it didn’t pay to let anyone see your soft side.

  Piper quickly shed her slacks and blouse and stepped into the dress. She’d discarded her gauze bandage and replaced it with a Band-Aid this morning. The incision was no more than half an inch long, the stitches barely visible.
She’d forgotten to ask if she had to have them removed. Maybe she would call her regular doctor about that.

  The telephone rang again.

  Struggling with the frustrating dress buttons, Piper scooped up the receiver and tucked it between her shoulder and ear. “Ryan.”

  “Miss Ryan, this is Dr. Petersen.”

  Speak of the devil, Piper mused. “Good morning, Doctor. I hope you haven’t decided to change my diagnosis.” She didn’t have time to be sick. The interview with Rominski was only a few days away.

  “Not to worry, Miss Ryan.” The doctor chuckled. “You’re quite well, indeed. I only called to make sure you remembered that your stitches deteriorate after a week or so. Removal won’t be necessary. You may clean away any fragments that linger, but don’t be too hasty about it. Give it about ten days before you attempt any scrubbing of the immediate area, just to be safe.”

  “You must read minds, Dr. Petersen,” Piper teased. “I was just thinking about that.”

  “I can assure you I’m not a mind reader. Just experienced at dealing with patients. Oftentimes patients don’t remember their orders. That’s why we give them written instructions.” A female voice in the background informed the doctor that they needed him in exam room two. “However,” he continued a little more briskly, “the man who whisked you away so abruptly left too quickly for the nurse to give him the final paperwork. I thought it best if I called personally.”

  Piper thanked him and, as she placed the receiver back in its base, she wondered what Martinez’s problem with Petersen was. The doctor seemed exceptionally nice to her. Dismissing the thought, she fastened the final button on her dress and checked her hair, then stepped into a pair of matching lavender heels.

  “All set,” she told her reflection. She stared at her closed door for a second before moving. All set except for facing Martinez.

  Piper smoothed her palms over her dress. She might as well get it over with. All she had to do was keep reminding herself that this was business and Martinez was her co-worker.