Page 53 of Every Rose

“I thought about you all day,” he told her in a husky tone.

“I don’t date other medical professionals,” she explained, running her hand over his jaw and discovering he’d shaved.

“No. Of course not. It’s a terrible idea.”

“Surgeons are arrogant.”

“The worst,” he agreed, running his lips over her shoulder. How had she never noticed that her shoulder was one of her most sensitive erogenous zones? Her shoulder?

She pulled at his gray T-shirt and he helped her strip it off. His skin was warm, and whatever time he was putting in at the gym was paying off.

“And most GPs think they’re God.”

She pulled back slightly. “Most GPs?”

“Some GPs,” he amended. There was a stretch between her shoulder and the top of her breast that, of course, she knew as the pectoral muscle, but when his lips traced a course down the slope she discovered yet another one of her previously unacknowledged hot zones.

“So, we won’t date,” she said, determined to hang onto her sense long enough to finish this conversation.

“Terrible idea,” he murmured. She wasn’t entirely sure he was listening to her every word. His mouth had now reached the top of her breast and while every fool knew the breast was a highly erogenous area of the body, hers seemed to have grown even more receptive in the last couple of minutes.

Her head tipped back giving him greater access, but she felt the brush of his dark curls against her chin. “So, we won’t.”

“We definitely won’t.”

Then he began to ease her out of her robe and she was lost.

Later they lay together, too lazy and sated to move, his hand lying on her breast as though he’d forgotten it was there. She liked the warm feel of his skin against hers more than she wanted to like it.

She turned so she was on her side facing him which made his hand fall off of her. “You’ve done this before, right?”

His sleepy eyes twinkled with humor. “Did I seem like a rank amateur?”

She smacked his shoulder lightly. “Not sex.” That he pretty much had his PhD in. “I mean this kind of relationship.”

The twinkle faded. “Define ‘this kind of relationship.’”

“You know. Casual. Convenient. We’re together when it works into our schedules but not committed in any way.”

“You mean we’re on call?”

“Not how I’d have phrased it, but yes. I got the feeling that your last relationship was pretty casual.”

“Absolutely, it was.”

“So, you don’t have a problem with casual?”

“You worried I’ll start serenading you under your windows at night and follow you around like a lost dog?”

She shuddered. He wouldn’t be the first. Okay, she’d only been serenaded that once, and the midnight crooner had been both drunk and Italian, which pretty much gave him a pass on over-the-top romantic gestures, but she hadn’t been able to face returning to Venice since the unfortunate incident. “Definitely no serenading.”

“I think I’ve got it.” He flopped onto his back, crossed his hands over his stomach. Great stomach. Muscular with the light tan that she now knew was a permanent part of his Greek heritage.

He sounded distant, as though she might have offended him in some way, but she knew he was as busy as she was. If they could shoehorn some private time into their busy lives they could enjoy each other without the wasted time of dating, getting to know each other’s friends and families, all that time that neither of them had to spare. Of course, he already knew half her family, but there was no way she was telling anyone with the last name Chance that she was getting naked with Dr. Vasilopolous.

Her parents might be old hippies but they had a strangely conservative streak when it came to marriage. One hint that she and Matt were intimate and her mom would be planning the wedding complete with homemade wedding cake and flowers from the garden. No doubt they’d expect her to dance in the grass barefoot with a daisy chain woven through her hair.

Okay, there’d already been one Chance wedding and it hadn’t been like that at all. In fact, Evan and Caitlyn’s wedding had been pretty much perfect, even though the festivitieshadtaken place in the Chance family garden.

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