Heart Murmurs Read Free Page B

in the tension of her body, and hear it in the crisp, staccato way she spoke. He could feel it in the way she didn’t look, didn’t touch, and barely breathed when he reached for her. It was taking everything she had not to fall.
    “Is the prospect of wanting someone really that terrible? Or is it just the prospect of wanting me that’s so repugnant?”
    “I didn’t go to medical school to turn into a TV cliché.” She was watching the lights across the top of the doors as they sailed up toward the penthouse, once again clutching her purse like it was going to save her from drowning. “I’m not here for an MRS degree. I’m not here to be a notch on some hotshot’s bedpost.”
    Then why are you coming upstairs with me right now? he wanted to ask. But, instead, he gave her a soft shove out the opening doors and spoke to the proud line of her neck. “How do I know I’m not the notch, Anushka? I’m not Dr. McDreamy, I’m more Dr. Evil, and yet women seem to take an inordinate amount of pleasure in saying they’ve slept with me. Even if it isn’t true.”
    “It isn’t true?” she scoffed, holding herself stiff as he aligned himself with her back. She was the perfect height to fit against him, the top of her head just grazing his chin, and when he leaned down to whisper in her ear, he felt her shiver like it was his own.
    “I fucked—” He used the word deliberately, relishing the harshness, the shock of it, and how it made her move into him instead of away. “ Two women at Mercy H. My ex-girlfriend—who I was with for four years—and a top surgical nurse. I don’t know who any of the Vincibles are, and I wish them all luck with their vivid sexual fantasies.”
    “I don’t believe you, Dr. McHenry.”
    “Vince,” he reminded. “It’s Vince.”
    She was determined to deny herself and him, because she didn’t say his name. Instead she stared at the two doors—one on either end of the carpeted hallway—clearly trying to ascertain which lion’s den he’d be leading her into. “Both,” he told her, closing his hands around her upper arms and guiding her to the left. “The entire floor is mine.”
    “Of course it is.” She laughed, the pitch just shy of high. “But shouldn’t you live in a swanky mansion in the suburbs? Maybe a refurbished brownstone? You’re filthy rich.”
    “I’m filthy rich, because I work nonstop,” he pointed out, “and I don’t have time to commute to a swanky mansion or to devote to the maintenance of a brownstone. Living here, I have all the space and privacy I want, and the hotel staff caters to my every need. It’s practical, Anushka, nothing more, nothing less.”
    When they were over the threshold, standing in the dimly lit entryway, she finally turned to look at him. Finally . “Is this practical?”
    God, she was beautiful and fiery and utterly breathtaking, all without putting any effort into it. She wore simplicity like other women wore diamonds. “No,” he said, roughly. “This isn’t practical at all.”
    He wasn’t sure who made the move. Him. Her. It didn’t matter, because within a fraction of a second they were in each other’s arms. Anu kissed like she talked, combative and defensive and completely committed to her argument. They crashed into the wall, a tangle of bodies, of hands exploring and mouths battling for dominance. Vince tasted heat, mint, and fury and he wanted more. He wanted everything .
    He grabbed her wrists, pinning them above her head. She wedged her knee between his legs, rubbing her denim-clad thigh against the rise of his fly. For every move he made, she matched him and then upped the ante. So he pressed the only advantage he could: he swept her up in his arms and carried her into the depths of his suite. But even then, she didn’t surrender. She locked her legs around his hips, kissing his mouth, his cheek, his throat. Every bit of him that was available to her. Like he was something to be devoured. He’d been wrong