She lifted a shoulder. “It’s been a long time. I wouldn’t have expected you to recognize me. We were kids.”
He frowned. “No, you were a kid.”
She had the decency to look chagrined. “Yeah, sorry about leaving that part out.”
He sighed. “Just please, please tell me you were at least eighteen.”
“I’d turned eighteen a few months before that.”
He tilted his head back and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Somehow, that doesn’t make me feel any better. I can’t believe you were that young. You seemed so smart and . . . poised.”
“Poised? Ha. I hope you’re a better read of people now than you were then. I was anything but. I was kind of a disaster.”
He lowered his head and peered at her. He could still see the girl she used to be in the curves of her face, but everything was more refined now, polished—the look in her eye world-weary. “I looked for you the next week.”
Her gaze slid away, refocusing on some invisible imperfection on her slacks. “I had to drop out for that semester. Family stuff. Long story.”
“Oh.” That wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. But her shoulders had curved inward, her entire posture closing off—don’t push. If they were in a session, he’d chase that rabbit. But she wasn’t his client. She wasn’t even his friend. It wasn’t his business. He leaned back on his hands. “As for that other elephant—that I don’t want you here—you’re wrong.”
Her attention flicked up at that, a don’t-bullshit-me look on her face. “You tried to talk Dr. Suri out of hiring me. I was sitting right there.”
“I wanted a more experienced therapist, yes. But that was nothing personal. I have a busy schedule and was hoping to have someone who could hit the ground running. I know what it’s like walking out of a research environment into a clinical one. It’s not an easy transition. The lab is all about facts and numbers and structure. Therapy is almost all feel and instinct and thinking on your feet.”
She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, meeting his gaze levelly though he could sense her nerves in the way she was holding her posture so rigidly. “I’m not going to pretend this isn’t new for me or that I don’t have a lot to learn. But I promise I’m more motivated than anyone to make this work. I work hard and learn fast. You tell me what you need me to do or learn or improve, and I’m going to do it.”
Donovan ignored the ping that went through him at her words. It’d been a long time since they’d shared those few days together, but he’d never forgotten the fantasies she’d helped him with, how she’d gotten turned on by the kinky ones. How willingly she’d melted under his touch. Tell me what to do, and I’m going to do it. He could think of more than a few things to put on that list. Starting with . . .
He pushed off the desk and put his back to her. Fuck. He couldn’t let his thoughts drift in that direction. He couldn’t make a move on her. She was going to be his trainee. His colleague. Beyond risking her feeling harassed, if he didn’t train her well, he’d lose the promotion, maybe even his job. And he couldn’t lose this goddamned job. He liked stretching the rules around here because he knew exactly how much he could get away with, but he never wanted to push over that danger line. And messing around with someone in his own department was past that line. This job was too important. Like the clients who came here, this place kept him sane, stable. The packed schedule. The challenge of it. The puzzle of figuring out how to help someone. It was his medicine. The rope that kept him tethered.
He stared out the window at the grounds and tucked his hands in his pockets, centering himself and bringing the focus back to the task at hand. “I want you to succeed here, Marin. Don’t doubt that. I’m going to train you to the best of my ability, and I have full confidence that you’ll catch on quickly. As for our past, I think we’re both grown-ups and can leave that where it is.” He paused, trying to let go of his dour thoughts and channel some levity. He smiled at his reflection in the window. “Unless you need to profess some undying love that’s been burning for me since you let me divest you of your virginity?”
* * *
Marin’s whirling work-related thoughts skidded to a halt, all of them falling off the edge at Donovan’s comment. Her lips parted.
But Donovan spun around, a devilish smile on his handsome face and his hands still tucked in his pockets. “That’s how it’s supposed to go, right? The guy who takes the V-card always has a special place. Research has proven it.” He put his hand on his chest. “Come on, did you
write my name in your notebooks with a heart around it? You can tell me. I’m a doctor.”
A choked laugh escaped her. “Research doesn’t say any such thing. Plus, your name would be too long to fit in a heart. And if you recall, I walked away from you that night, doctor. So you were probably the one pining over your misguided night with a teenager.”
He chuckled, the sound as rich and warm as she remembered. It softened some of those hard edges he’d acquired in the years since she’d known him, gentled the icy blue in his eyes. “Of course I was. There was bad poetry written. Sad songs played. I went through this weird emo/goth phase. It wasn’t pretty.”
“I’m sure,” she said dryly but let out an internal sigh of relief at his shift in mood. This was the Donovan she remembered. He was still in there somewhere. She could work with that guy. She wasn’t so sure about the other one.
He grinned, unrepentant. “See? You’re going to do just fine. There are two important requirements to work in this field: shamelessness and a sense of humor.” He raised a finger. “Oh, and the ability to keep a straight face no matter what.”
He gave her a super-serious therapist face.
She tried to give her own back to him, but she lost the staring contest and laughed.
He pointed at her. “All right. Elephants slain?”
He still hadn’t told her what he’d been doing in the parking lot in that half-dressed state, but it really wasn’t any of her business. “Sure. Bleeding on the floor.”
“Aw, poor elephants.”
He slipped off his suit jacket, hooked it around the back of his chair, and sat behind his desk in one gracefully executed maneuver—all confidence and swagger. The accomplished doctor. The ridiculously beautiful man. Donovan West was pure impact.