p; “Okay?”
She graced him with a reluctant smile. “Yeah. Now why are you on my unit, besides to torment me and make me late for my rounds?”
He dipped his hand in his pocket and pulled out what he’d tucked in there before his meeting at school. “First, I came by to give you this.” He held out a vintage gold wedding ring. “What do you think?”
Her eyes widened and she took the ring. She held it up and the light sparked off the cluster of diamonds at the center that formed a flower shape. “Lane, this is gorgeous. You didn’t have to do this. I could’ve…”
He shrugged. “I got a good deal at the local pawn shop near the college. It’s vintage and one of a kind, which I thought suited you and would impress your family. I can sell it back to the shop when we’re done.”
She glanced up at him, something tender flickering there. “It’s perfect. Honestly. It’s something I would’ve picked out for myself. Thank you.”
He beamed and put a hand over his heart. “A compliment. I might fall over.”
She rolled her eyes but her smile stayed in place. She slid the ring on her right ring finger for now. It was a little loose but not enough to be a problem. “So you said, first. What’s the second reason you’re here?”
His shoulders slouched. “Test results.”
“And?”
“Hi, my name is Lane Cannon, and I’m dyslexic.”
She crossed her arms, her all-business face replacing the smile. “So it’s what your professor suspected. That qualifies as a disability and should get you some help and some more time on your paper.”
“Yes. Plus, a dictation program to learn,” he said, failing to keep the derision out of his voice. “And a student tutor to teach me how to use it. I told them to keep the tutor. I have a mean-as-hell doctor to take my dick.”
She reached out and pinched his hip, hard.
“Dictation,” he said quickly, taking her wrists in his hands to thwart further torture. “To take my dictation. And then my dick. Because let’s face it, after all that work, we’re going to need some fucking.”
She groaned and let her head fall against his chest. “I hate you.”
He set his chin atop her head and closed his eyes, feeling strangely contented for the first time all afternoon. “I hate you, too, doc.”
She tapped her head against his chest. “Why does that make me want to kiss you?”
“Because you loathe me so hard?”
She lifted her face to him, humor in her eyes. “So hard.”
He released her hands and cupped her face. “Feeling’s mutual. You’re a nightmare.”
She smiled and looped her arms around his waist. He didn’t need any further invitation than that. He lowered his mouth to hers, taking what he’d wanted since walking in the office, taking what she’d refused him that first night together.
When his tongue touched hers, her softly expelled moan was enough to get his blood rushing straight south. Elle in her doctor’s coat, all buttoned up and late for rounds, melting like butter in a hot skillet under his touch. He wished she had more than a minute. He wished he could lift her onto her desk and put the In Session sign on the door, give her the afternoon work break they really needed.
He let his hand slide to her ass, cupping her and angling her against him as he deepened the kiss.
A knock sounded to his left and before he could register what that sound meant, the door swung open. “Dr. McCray, I—”
Chapter 15
Elle jolted back from Lane at the sound of the intruding voice, and Lane lifted his hands as if he were being held up by the police.
Both of them turned to the door to find an emoji version of Oriana—all wide eyes and O-shaped lips—staring back at them.
Elle’s mind raced, trying to come up with some conceivable reason why she was on duty and in a lip-lock with The Grove’s sex surrogate. But her ability for speech had apparently bolted out the door hand in hand with her dignity.
Ori spoke first. “Uh, I am so sorry. You didn’t have your sign up and—I just…” She jabbed her thumb behind her. “I’m leaving.”