Page 27

"The Halsted Foundation, yes. Well, my accountant runs it. He's lovely."

"When?"

"Twenty-nineteen."

My hand is still on his chest. I can feel his heart going and it is not calm. Definitely not the steady, bored, unbothered rhythm of a man who doesn't care. It's fast. He's just better at hiding it.

"I was twenty-six that year."

"I'm aware."

"You didn't know me in twenty-nineteen." I press harder. His eyes go dark and something shifts in his face that makes my thighs tighten. Damn it, why am I attracted to this man? "You'd never seen me. You didn't know my name."

For half a second, nothing. For a fleeting moment, the mask slips and underneath it is something so raw and starving that my skin goes hot from my chest to my throat. Then he smiles.

"Ask me something else."

"No."

"Ask me about the scanner. I’ve never seen such gratitude and awe directed at a piece of medical equipment. The most romantic thing I've ever witnessed, and I was at my own engagement party twenty minutes ago."

"Why my hospital?"

"It was a good investment."

"Bullshit." I keep my voice under the music. "Every hospital in this country is bleeding money. Why mine?"

"It wasn't yours then." He speaks so casually, like it costs nothing. "You were just a young resident finding her way."

"That is not an answer."

"It's the answer you're getting tonight."

"Give me the real one."

"No." His eyes drop to my mouth and stay there a beat, two, and I feel that look land right between my legs, like he's actually touched me. "You're not ready for the real one."

"Don't tell me what I'm ready for."

"I wouldn't dare." A pause. "But your hand is still on my chest."

It is. I don't know when I put it there. And now that he's said it I can feel his heart going under my palm, hard, fast, not the pulse of a man in control of anything.

I don't move my hand. I tell myself it's to prove a point.

"Interesting," he says.

"Shut up."

"Your professional opinion, doctor." His voice has dropped. "My heart rate. Should I be concerned?"

"I said shut up."

"Because it's been doing that since you walked in tonight in that dress, and I've spent all evening thinking about giving a speech while—" He stops. His jaw sets. Whatever the rest of the sentence is, he swallows it. "Forget that."

I take my hand back.

"Forget what?"