Page 10 of Roman

Danny had entered babbling territory, but Mr. Handsome just quirked his lips and continued to stare at him from across the table.

A sudden, horrifying thought hit Danny. “Are you—are you management? Did they hire someone to supervise on nights or something? Did I tell my new boss to…eff off?”

This time, Mr. Handsome’s lips lifted high enough to be considered an actual smile, and that simple act upgraded his appeal to deadly levels. Danny shifted in his seat, unnerved that a smile was turning him on. “I’m not management,” the man refuted. “I have some passing business here but not for long.”

Danny supposed that was the closest to a straight answer he was going to get. For someone who’d just moments before been telling himself a workplace flirtation was out of the question, he found himself strangely disappointed that the man wasn’t going to be a permanent fixture.

He pointed at the stranger’s chest. “They should really get you a badge. Makes things a little less confusing. And I’d know what to call you. See?” Danny pointed to his own. “Danny.”

“I remember. Danny No-Last-Name.”

“And you are?”

“Roman. Roman Mourier.” He pronounced his last name with a seemingly flawless French accent.

Mr. Handsome, aka Roman, leaned a little further over the table, and Danny got another hint of his scent, that spicy, metallic mix that shouldn’t smell nearly as good as it did. What cologne did this guy use, and would he let Danny borrow some to pour on his pillow?

Roman’s eyes seemed to darken as he locked them onto Danny’s own again. “Now that formalities are out of the way, I think you should let me—”

But whatever Roman wanted Danny to let him do was interrupted by the sudden blare of Danny’s phone alarm. His break was over. Perfect timing, since he was slightly worried he would have let this man do whatever he wanted, and that was a completely irrational reaction to a mysterious stranger, wasn’t it?

Time to go before he got himself in trouble.

“Shit,” Danny swore. “I mean, shoot! Break’s up. I gotta go. Nice meeting you and everything. I’ll see you arou— Oh.”

Roman had risen out of the booth along with Danny and had somehow made his way over to Danny’s side in the blink of an eye. The stranger was now standing at what felt like avery closedistance. His intoxicating scent was even stronger, and Danny was feeling the incredibly inappropriate urge to rub his face against this guy’s neck and sniff him properly.

What the fuck was wrong with him?

“I am not so sure I should let you go yet.” Nothing in the man’s tone suggested he was teasing.

“Um, you have to?” Somehow it ended up coming out more like a question. Danny was feeling almost light-headed, fighting his body’s sudden inclination to sway into the man across from him.

Maybe he was more exhausted than he thought.

“I need to get back and do…nurse stuff. Nurse things. You know?” How had his brain suddenly turned to mush?

Roman was lifting a hand, and Danny had the strangest feeling that the other man was about to stroke Danny’s face, when a loud “Danny!” cut through his mental fog like a knife.

He glanced to the right to see Gabe walking toward him, somehow looking like a million bucks even though Danny knew for a fact it was his fifth night in a row. No dark under-eye circles for the Golden Boy, thank you very much.

He narrowed his eyes as his brother approached. “I thought I told you to ignore me at work.”

“Very funny, kiddo.” Gabe threw an arm over Danny’s shoulder, completely unfazed by the less-than-welcoming greeting. “Who’s your friend?”

Of course Gabe would have no qualms calling Danny “kiddo” in front of a stranger, even in a goddamnwork setting. No thought to what treating him like a child might do to his professional relationships.

Danny glanced over at Roman to gauge his reaction and gave a little start of surprise. Roman’s gaze was trained on Gabe’s arm, the one wrapped around Danny’s shoulder, and that cold look from the night before was back in his eyes. The one that brought to mind some predator—a jungle cat or possibly, you know, a serial killer.

Danny was suddenly reminded of why he’d felt so nervous the night before.

He took an involuntary step back, but before he could make any introductions, or perhaps ask “Why are you looking at my brother like you want to knife him?,” Roman cut him off with a cold, “Just leaving, actually.”

He pivoted away and walked off without looking back at them, and was out of their sight before Danny had time to blink.

Gabe’s slightly bewildered expression was probably a mirror of Danny’s own. “What a jerk. New attending?”

“Not quite sure what he is. Some kind of consultant?”

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