“I like spicy food, the occasional tequila shooter and classic rock.”
His jaw clenched briefly.
“What?” she asked. “It’s not like I just told you I collect butterflies so I can pull their wings off.”
With a snicker, he said, “Kate has a dark-humor side.”
“Kate does.”
“Nice. Tell me more.”
She opened her mouth to do just that, but then quickly shut it as they approached the party venue. And her gaze landed on a tall, broad-shouldered man with neatly trimmed blond hair and ice-blue eyes. Looking as stuffy as she knew him to be.
“That’s my ex,” Kate whispered.
“The Ken-doll look-alike?” Jude scoffed. “I don’t see you with that type at all.”
“A match made in heaven…or so our parents thought. His name is Andrew Lexington. Dr. Lexington, to be precise. Renowned plastic surgeon and head of the department at Mount Sinai.”
“Please don’t tell me he had visions of how to surgically enhance you. That is one killer body you possess, Kate. And I am anxious as hell to see it naked.” His head dipped once more as he conspiratorially said, “I bet every inch of you tastes as good as your pussy does.”
Kate nearly tripped. Heat flared in her belly. Not that she expected Jude to be tame. Not by any stretch of the imagination.
Her voice was faint as she told him, “Try to behave a tiny bit in front of Andrew. He did my nose job—necessary following a car accident.”
“Unfortunately, I have to concede he does excellent work.”
“Indeed. And is supremely aware of it. I’ve known him my whole life. Our parents paired us together when we were five. By the time we were twelve, our mothers were picking out our china pattern. Our fathers proudly snapped photos of us before the prom—my dress looking as though I belonged on top of a wedding cake. At that point, it was a foregone conclusion in their minds we’d be married right after college and I’d be a doctor’s wife.”
Jude’s brow crooked. “Not a doctor yourself?”
“Oh, Lord, no. That most definitely was not in their grand plan.”
Kate didn’t elaborate. She greeted Andrew, who gave her a kiss on the cheek. Regardless of it being a chaste one, Jude’s left arm snaked around Kate’s waist and he tugged her a bit closer to him, so that she was tucked against his hunky body.
A curious warmth ribboned through her. But rather than dwell on Jude’s sexy power play, she said, “Lovely to see you, Andrew.”
“And you. Wow… That is one red dress.” His short laugh held no humor. Were Kate on his arm this evening, they never would have made it to the limo without Kate having to change into something infinitely more demure. Understated. Sedate. Though Andrew’s term would be respectable.
“Jude,” she said, “meet Dr. Lexington. Andrew, this is Jude McMillan. He’s an industrial risk attorney.”
“I saw your name in the paper recently,” Andrew commented as they shook hands. “The Higgins & Dobbs explosion, correct?”
“I represent the insurer.”
“Right, of course. That’s a substantial case.”
“It’s tragic, is what it is,” Jude said, tension suddenly radiating from him. Kate felt his muscles tighten, every inch of him going rigid.
Her extensive psychiatric training kicked into gear. But she couldn’t grill Jude at the moment, so instead, she tamped down the multitude of questions that instantly popped into her head.
Admittedly, she was fiercely protective of Jude’s mental health, the way he reacted so rapidly and vehemently to something that put him on-edge, even if he did exert a hell of a lot of effort into smoothing his ragged emotions. But she knew in instances such as this, she had to let him ebb and flow… Not create additional strife for him by slipping on her therapist’s hat—in public, no less.
Andr
ew solemnly replied, “There were a few survivors who ended up at my hospital, all requiring burn treatments from my staff. But that poor girl—”
“Yes, well…”