The Wildcat and the Doctor by Mina Carter & BJ Barnes Page A

terran cat, set over a small, button nose. Full lips curved over a determined little jaw, just tempting him to lean down and sample them.
    Down boy , he chastised himself. Just because he’d miss the transport home for the fertility festival didn’t mean he could leap on the first woman he came across to re-enact his own, private, celebration. Even if he hadn’t had a sniff of action in nearly a year, when his last relationship had gone down the pan in spectacular fashion. But, Lady , it was tempting...
    ***
    Oh good going, Tess .
    Inwardly berating herself for giving a guy a coffee shower, she tried to reach for his shirt again, but he held onto her hands. Sighing, she glanced up, getting a better look at him this time and went still.
    Breathing would be good right about now...
    Of all the people she could smash into, she’d really done it this time by running full-tilt into a Sargosian warrior. A gorgeous one, too. Talk about embarrassing. Taking a deep breath, she tried to speak again and was grateful to sound somewhat normal. “I’m sorry, I looked over my shoulder for an instant and then...well...you know what happened. Will you let me have a look?”
    There were a number of possible responses to her question. Watching the soldier strip off his sodden t-shirt in one swift move was not one Tess had considered.
    Her gaze was already aimed at his chest, to check on the scald from the hot brew, but she was distracted by cuts and bruises scattered across a body that seem carved from stone. Some of the cuts - obvious knife wounds - were fresh, while others looked weeks old. Normally, she’d be hollering for a medic and dragging him with all haste to medbay herself to stop him from bleeding out. Except he wasn’t quite normal. Sargosians had the ability to heal, for their tissue to regenerate. It made them excellent soldiers, among other things.
    Whether he could heal on his own or not, she came to a decision then and there. Reaching out, she took hold of his hand. “You’re coming with me. Now.”
    His eyebrow arched up. Those full lips--wickedly sensual in an almost cruelly masculine face--pursed for a moment. “Bossy little thing, aren’t you?”
    “I’m a doctor. It comes with the job description.” She smiled sweetly. “Would it work better if I asked nicely?” She wasn’t waiting for an answer and tugged him towards the lift.
    “No, not really.”
    He chuckled, the sound rich and deep, pulling a shiver from the depths of her soul to dance up her spine. Pulling back for a second, he scooped up the case and bag he’d dropped on the floor and then followed her as docile as a lamb. If a lamb had been born and bred for war, then spent most of its time on the battlefield, she acknowledged. The lift door closed behind them, leaving her trapped in the small space with a man she had no doubt could be very dangerous indeed.
    He watched her, the small quirk at the corner of his lips saying he noticed her efforts not to stare at his naked chest. Damn it, why did he have to be built so nicely?
    “You sure you’re a doctor?” he asked casually, as though they weren’t standing holding hands in a lift. “You look a little young...”
    “Yes, I’m sure I’m a doctor.” She narrowed her eyes, but smirked. “Do I look young? Thank you. Flattery will get you everywhere.” Mentally, she facepalmed...big time. What was that?
    His grin grew broader. “I like that answer. So...what do I call you? Just Doctor?”
    There was something about the tone of his voice, and the look in his eyes, a wonderfully clear hazel-green, that had Tess pausing. She didn’t normally flirt with her patients. Some doctors did, ignoring protocol, but she didn’t because if ever any of them took it seriously, then she’d be in an undesirable position, perhaps even facing charges. But this time a little devil on her shoulder urged her to give in, just this once, and see where it led.
    “Dr. Tessa Evers, but you can call me Tess...or