Page 76 of The Cajun Doctor

“You don’t like this outfit.”

“I love your outfit.”

More blushing.

“Here’s a deal for you. I’ll let you take over renovation of my mansion . . .”

“You’ll let me?”

“. . . in return for all the favors I’m doing for you. Admit it, you know you’d sell your soul to get involved in renovating the old place. Go for it! Give Rose a historical facelift.”

“Rose is it now? A female?”

“Aren’t all these Southern mansions supposed to be grand old ladies?”

“Hmpfh!” she said, which was as good as saying, “I wouldn’t sell my soul, but maybe a few family heirlooms, to be involved, dammit.”

He’d been continuing to drive down the road when he suddenly put on the turn signal. “Oh, look. There’s one of your stores.” It was a Starr Foods Superstore. “And it’s only noon. We can get the groceries here.”

“Okay, but not too much cold stuff until the new fridge is delivered and has time to cool down.”

“Do I get a Starr discount?”

“No.”

“Aaah,” he moaned in exaggeration. “I’d give you a discount if I owned a gazillion supermarkets.”

“There aren’t a gazillion Starr stores. Only a hundred and thirteen.”

“Only a hundred and thirteen?”

“That’s small . . . well, average . . . for a grocery chain. And I don’t own the stores. I’m just a shareholder.”

“Uh-huh,” he said, disbelieving.

Actually, all this banter and inconsequential conversation was a concerted effort on Daniel’s part to avoid the sudden, overpowering attraction that had exploded between them this morning. Well, not so sudden on his part. If he were truthful, he would have to admit that Samantha’s appeal to him had been growing for some time now, even when she’d clearly been repulsed by him, mainly because he was a doctor, partly because of his taunting her about every little thing, a habit which gave him an inordinate, immature pleasure.

She clearly wasn’t repulsed anymore. And, ironically, that was partly due to her seeing him as a doctor, the very thing that had put her off to begin with. Go figure. He’d be a fool not to notice that her attitude toward him had changed. Had it begun to change this morning when she’d seen him outside with her animals? Or maybe even last night when he’d offered to bring her and her motley crew back to the plantation? Or when she’d succumbed to their killer kiss. Or even later when she’d announced that she had been celibate for more than a year?

If he hadn’t been convinced before that she was melting for him (Man, I like the sound of that!), he was for sure when he’d spotted her standing in the doorway of the children’s playroom at the cancer medical center. The look in her eyes had been one of pure, unadulterated bone-melting, heart-melting, whatever-melting. Which wasn’t a surprise to him. Women throughout the world considered doctors to be prime dating/marriage material. Little did they know or care about the high divorce rate for physicians. Not Samantha, though. Until today, he would have bet his balls that she would eat worms before she would willingly lay with another doctor. But now? Whoo-boy!

And, yes, he meant lay as in laid, or get naked, and do the deed.

So, now, the two of them were making a concerted effort to avoid the big frickin’ elephant that sat between them, at the moment its big rump resting on the console, its trunk swinging back and forth like a pendulum. In his case, the pendulum seemed to be an argument of good sense against good sex.

Will we?

Won’t we?

Make a move.

Run for the hills . . . or the bayou.

Maybe she’d like to have an affair.

I’d like to be a fly on the wall when that suggestion is made.

I’m going testosterone crazy.