Page 9 of One Night Only

I’m a professional liar, hiding from my family, and standing here, I feel every inch the imposter I am.

Dr. Cross glances at me, expression unreadable.

I force myself to meet his gaze, bracing for… I don’t know. But all I find in his eyes is warmth, steady and sure, like he doesn’t see the mess at all. Or maybe he sees it and doesn’t care.

It’s almost worse, the way he looks at me. Like I could belong withhim.

The thought makes my chest tight, and I tear my gaze away, focusing instead on the towering floral arrangement in the center of the lobby.

“You’re second-guessing this,” he says. “I’ll ask for a separate room at the reception.”

I turn so fast to face him I get a crick in my neck. Dismay fills me at the out he’s giving me. Martha’s not wrong. He’s a gentleman, through and through. “No. Don’t want to be alone tonight,” I say, clearing my throat.

For all that I call myself a chaos gremlin, I’ve never given in to my wilder side. Bad enough that I got slotted into “the difficult child” and the “doesn’t apply herself” boxes early on. For two brilliant surgeons in their respective fields, my parents can be horribly short-sighted.

If I really give in to all the urges I bury deep inside, there’s no telling what I might become and what they will think of me.

Plus, I’m afraid. Really afraid of the depths of my needs and desires.

Dr. Cross’s mouth purses. “Putting you up in a room of your own is the least I can do for you, Ms. Rao.”

I frown at the formality of his words, my empty belly sloshing like an undergrad at a spring break party. Now that he’s taken away the prospect of his company, I realize how much I want it. Swallowing, I turn my mind back over what had just happened. And it comes to me. “What I meant to say was that I want to spend the night with you. Not just be… not alone.”

When he continues to frown, I say, “That’s two negatives, Dr. Cross. It probably requires too much brain power from you. Especially at this time of the night.”

He leans in, and I’m hit again by the warmth of his body. And the cocktail of cologne and sweat. He smells amazing, and all I want to do is lick him up. “Careful, Ms. Rao. I’m not unaware of the fact that you’re provoking me yet again.”

I blink my lashes, trying to act innocent. “Into what?”

“Into proving my stamina. As tacky as that sounds.”

I grab my lower lip with my teeth, catching the request that wants to slip out.

Prove it to me, please. Use those broad shoulders and those large hands to pin me down and have your wicked way with me. Make me feel owned. Make me feel like I belong to you, for one night.

His gaze flashes, as if he can read those words burning my lips. Leaning close, he tugs the lower one free. “Tell me what you’re thinking.”

My core clenches. If he orders me around in that tone, I’ll do whatever he asks of me. “Not sure that’s a good idea,” I say, fighting the urge to lean into him. “Someone like me can’t afford honesty.”

“Someone like you?”

“Forget I said that,” I mumble, looking down at the leather straps of the stilettos biting painfully into my flesh.

“Annika?”

The way he says my name weaves a direct connection to my needy heart. “I’m not… sophisticated or have my shit together to be at a place like this. With you.”

A finger under my chin tilts it up, forcing me to meet those gray eyes. The sight of him, close enough that I can see the crinkly lines at the edge of his mouth, anchors me. The posh hotel, the overwhelming grandeur, the gnawing doubts, all flee like mice in front of a fat ginger cat.

Just him and me… that I can do.

“It’s just a building. Grander than most, yes, but made of walls and foundation like anything else.” He looks around himself and then back at me. “Did Mom ever tell you about the time I snuck into a wedding reception as a med student?”

“You?” I say, pulled out of my head at the image of him doing something so juvenile. “No.”

“I ran out of grocery money for the week and was determined not to ask Mama for more. So, I borrowed my roommate’s best suit and snuck in.” His laughter rocks through me as we make our way toward the bank of gleaming elevators. “I ate enough for two days.”

I grip his arm to arrest his long strides. “You aren’t making it up, are you?”

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