Page 88 of The Billionaire's Obsession: Florida

Pulling her eyes away from him, completely disgusted with herself for drooling over his ripped body, she asked abruptly, “What happened? Why am I here?” She assumed that this was his home, since she was in the same bed as him. A bed, that she had to admit, had damn nice sheets, in a bedroom with lovely furnishings.

Sam sat up, and Maddie held her breath as the sheet slipped lower, her eyes drawn unerringly back to his abdomen. Then, she noticed the elastic band that sat low on his hips, proof that he wasn’t completely naked. She released her breath, hating herself for being disappointed.

“I’d love to tell you that I came to your clinic and you were so overcome with lust that you begged me to take you home and fuck you,” he replied, his hot green eyes raking her face and body. “But you weren’t and I didn’t. I went to your office and you were fast asleep on your desk. I tried to wake you but you were so exhausted that I had to carry you here and put you to bed.”

Sliding from the bed, she asked, “Why? I would have woken up eventually.” She put her hands on her hips, annoyed that he had invaded her clinic. Again.

Flipping back the covers, he stood, shooting her a dangerous look. “Are you fucking kidding me? You were out for the count. What in the hell are you trying to do, Maddie? Kill yourself with exhaustion? Nobody crashes that hard unless they’ve been drinking or are entirely sleep-deprived. It’s bullshit,” he growled, walking across the room to retrieve a gray silk robe from a chair.

She opened her mouth to give him a scathing reply, but closed it as she watched him swagger across the room. Holy glutes, the man had an ass so tight that she could see every movement, every muscle contract and release as he strode across the room. Nowthatwas the kind of ass awomanwanted to grope. Sam was rippedeverywhere. He was damn near perfect, so incredibly masculine that he took her breath away. He still had the light scars on his back, strips of lighter skin that she had asked him about years ago but had never gotten a clear answer as to how he had gotten them.

Shrugging into the robe, he turned, giving her a quick glimpse of his morning erection that was prominently outlined by the snug undergarments. Catching her eyes with his, he smirked and raised a naughty brow.

Don’t look at him. This is Sam Hudson. Asshole extraordinaire. He might look incredible, but his heart is as black as coal.

Jerking her eyes away from that teasing emerald glance, she tried to remember what she wanted to say.Oh, yeah. “What I do is none of your business. You had no right to abduct me from my office.”

He snorted. “You weren’t exactly complaining. You had your arms around my neck when I carried you to the car.”

Oh, shit. “You carried me?”

He held his hand up in warning. “Don’t go there. Your body is perfect.” His face was fierce as he continued. “What have you been doing at the clinic at all hours? You already have a full-time job. You can’t keep carrying both loads.”

“I have to. Those people need me,” she whispered. “They don’t have anyone else to go to.”

Maddie had left her private practice almost a year ago to work as a hospitalist, hoping she could spend more time at the clinic. She had more days off to spend at the clinic, but it did make for a heavy workload and she was feeling the strain.

Sam’s face softened as he approached her. “You can’t save the world, Maddie. You’re only one person. It won’t bring Crystal back.”

Maddie flinched, the mention of her childhood best friend still causing her pain. Crystal had died at the age of ten from bacterial meningitis because she hadn’t gotten treatment soon enough, her poverty-stricken parents having no insurance.I must have told Sam years ago and he still remembers it. It was one of the reasons she had wanted to be a doctor, and was still her primary motivation to keep the clinic open.

She looked up at him, leaning back against the thick bedpost. “Don’t you think I know that? I had a five-year-old kid who I almost didn’t diagnose in time. He was chronically sick, tired, fatigued. It took a while to do the testing because I’m not at the clinic every day. He had Type 1 diabetes. He could have died.” She dropped her head, staring at the carpet, thinking of what could have happened had she not finally found a correct diagnosis. “I have to spend as much time there as I can.” The incident with Timmy had scared her, made her push herself harder. What if there was another case out there, one who she couldn’t get to in time?

Sam crowded her, pressing his large bulk against her, wedging her between his powerful body and the post. Taking her chin between his fingers, he tipped her head up, her gaze meeting his intense, penetrating look. “He didn’t die, because you were there. But you aren’t helping the working poor by exhausting yourself. There’s a limit to what you can do.”

“I need—”

“You need rest. You need to be able to fully function to give the best care you can,” he told her sternly. “I know you, Maddie. You were a crusader even when we were younger. You can’t save the world. You have to help one person at a time and hope you can make a difference.” He yanked her into his arms, pressing her head against his chest as he stroked her hair. “I always knew you’d be a phenomenal doctor, but it will eat your soul if you let it. You take the responsibility of the world on your shoulders. You always have.”

Maddie sighed, giving herself one moment to relax against the strong male body holding her, making her feel so safe, forgetting for just a brief time that she hated Sam Hudson. “I don’t know what to do,” she admitted. And it was true. She was so torn between her need to survive, pay her bills every month, and her desperation to help the people who truly needed medical care but couldn’t afford it.

“I have a proposition for you,” Sam answered, his hand moving soothingly up and down her back.

“What?” Pushing on his chest, she glanced up at him curiously.

“We can talk about it at breakfast. I’m starving,” he answered casually.

“No. I need to shower and get to the clinic. Shit! I don’t have any clothes here. I’ll have to wear the same scrubs and—”

“You’ll find everything you need in the master bath. I had my personal assistant pick up some things for you.” He moved back and motioned toward a door on the other side of the bedroom. “I’ll use the other bathroom and meet you in the kitchen.”

“I told you I have to go. I have appointments today,” she answered stubbornly, walking across the bedroom toward the bathroom.

“Actually, you don’t,” he answered as he yanked clothing from his closet.

“I have a full schedule until the wedding rehearsal,” she informed him indignantly. Really, did he think she was so out of it that she had forgotten her appointments?

“You don’t. Your clinic is being covered by another doctor for a while. With the help of a few nurses.” He imparted that information as he reached for the handle of the bedroom door.

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