A Husband for the Holidays (Made For Matrimony 1) by Ami Weaver Page B

her throat. “Will she be okay?” Her words were a little breathy.
    “I hope so. So far so good.” She heard the roughness of his voice and closed her eyes. This attraction wasn’t welcome, yet she couldn’t control her reaction to him any more than she could stop breathing.
    He latched the cage and made a note in the chart. She stepped a little farther back. “Do you have to come back and check on her later?”
    He shook his head. “Jennifer will check on her later tonight. There’s an apartment upstairs. She lives there and usually when we have a case like this takes the middle of the night shift.”
    “Oh. Well. That’s handy,” she murmured, trying to ignore the completely irrational spurt of jealousy at the casual mention of the other woman. Stupid, and totally unwarranted.
    “Yeah, it works well.” He tipped his head toward the door. “I’ve done what I need to here. You ready?”
    She followed him back out, noting the quiet with which he shut the door behind him. She nodded toward the other door. “Do they need to be taken out?”
    “No, that’s all been taken care of for the evening,” he said, and set Minnie’s chart on the front desk.
    “You’ve done well, Mack.” The observation slipped out and he turned to her with surprise. “You fit here.”
    He moved toward her, his gaze sharp. “As would you, Darcy.”
    She shook her head. “No, I’m good in Chicago. I love it there.”
    “Do you?” He moved closer still and she edged back, but the hallway wall stopped her. “Do you really?”
    He wasn’t holding her in place, but Darcy couldn’t seem to move. It was as if her cells had missed him so much she needed to soak up his nearness, his heat, as if he were the sun. She swallowed. “Yes,” she whispered.
    He moved a little closer and braced one arm on the wall, his gaze never leaving hers, the heat and want there a mirror of her own. “Darcy,” he murmured, then lowered his head to settle his mouth on hers.
    Her eyes drifted closed and she savored the sweetness of the kiss, which quickly turned to fire as he nipped at her lip. She opened for him and the kiss went from sweet to spicy in a heartbeat.
    She slid her arms around his neck and let her fingers play in the longer hair there. He plunged his fingers in her hair and deepened the kiss even more. Fire licked through her, and brought with it the roaring desire she’d always had with Mack.
    All of a sudden he wrenched back and left her, nearly panting, against the wall. “God, Darcy, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean— I overstepped.”
    Her face burned. Sorry. Of course he was. “Are you saying we need to just forget it happened?”
    He didn’t seem to sense the trap. “Yeah, I think that’d be best.”
    He couldn’t have hurt her more if he’d physically struck her. She swallowed hard and lifted her chin. “Well. Consider it forgotten.” She darted around him and he let her go.
    He let out a curse as the door shut behind her. He’d made a royal mess of it. Not the first time. They’d been making strides toward a fragile peace and then he went and gave in to the need to push her, to touch her, to kiss her. To get her to admit she’d made a mistake. Now she’d be back to avoiding him.
    Maybe that was for the best. Maybe they couldn’t manage “friends” after all. Especially with kisses like that hanging between them.
    He walked back to his office and looked out the window to confirm her car was gone. He didn’t want to admit he was more than disappointed she’d left. He hadn’t been able to give her a reason to stay when it mattered most, so why did he think it’d be different now?
    He was a fool. A fool for Darcy Kramer. It seemed he’d learned nothing over the past several years.
    She’d leave—again—and that’d be the end.
    This time for good.
    * * *
    Mack had kissed her. Really kissed her.
    And she’d melted all over.
    The memory of it swirled through her system, like the snowflakes that danced in her