Dr Di Angelo's Baby Bombshell

“If it’s all the same, I’ll do the H and P when I check on Evie Mayo.”

“Is she any better?”

Darby shook her head. “Unfortunately no. Her liver enzymes are through the roof and I can’t find a reason why. Her hepatic ultrasound and her CT scan were both essentially normal. Only fatty streaks showed.”

“Hepatitis profile okay?”

“All normal.”

“You want me to take a look at her? See if I can come up with anything?”

Darby shrugged. “If you’d like. Maybe I’m missing something.”

“I doubt that,” he assured her, lightly punching her shoulder in a move her older brothers had often done when she’d been growing up. How long had it been since she’d seen Jim, John, Jerry and Ralph? Too long, since she’d opted to work last Christmas instead of making the six-hour drive to Armadillo Lake. She’d meant to go, but after Blake’s mother had canceled plans last-minute to come to Knoxville for the holidays Darby hadn’t been able to bear the thought of him alone at Christmas.

“But it never hurts to have a fresh eye give a second opinion,” he continued. “Speaking of second opinions, what do I need to pack for this weekend?”

Dread filled her stomach. Was she really going to subject Blake to her humiliating high school experiences?

Of course, she was. Because she wasn’t that shy, geeky girl who’d rather have had her nose stuck in a book than in a fashion magazine. She was a successful doctor with a fabulous life.

Okay, so she didn’t have a real boyfriend, and was bringing her business partner instead, but no one had to know that the scrumptious man with her wasn’t madly in love with her.

Her gaze landed on Blake. He was scrumptious to look at—the classic tall, dark and handsome—and she was half in lust with him, so that had to count for something, right?

No one would accuse her of being a virgin when she had a virile man like Blake making googly eyes at her. Which should be enough to ease the bile burning her throat, yet wasn’t.

Why wasn’t she eagerly anticipating the chance to prove to Armadillo Lake just how wrong they’d been about her? Surely she wasn’t still intimidated by her classmates? By Mandy?

No way.

Or maybe she was intimidated, because at times she wondered if they’d been right about her. After all, she was a twenty-eight-year-old virgin. By choice, but still a virgin.

Maybe her nervousness stemmed from the man before her. Had she really asked Blake to pretend to be in love with her? To spend the weekend with her, share a hotel room with her?

“Saturday afternoon is a picnic at the town park, so something casual for that. The reunion itself is being held at the Armadillo Lake Lodge’s ballroom and will be dressy. Not tuxedo formal, but you’ll need a suit.” She raked her gaze over him, imagining him at the party. He’d look good in a tux, but that would definitely be overkill. A tux would scream “trying too hard”. She wanted their relationship to look real, not make-believe.

She wanted their relationship to be real, not make-believe.

She bit back a sigh. Their relationship was real. They had a great business relationship, were ideal partners. Anything beyond that would only make life complicated, because if she and Blake ever became involved that way she’d end up hurt and losing everything. But what if…?

“Picnic and dressy.” Winking, he shot her with his finger. “Gotcha.”

Fighting to look as if her mind wasn’t racing in unwanted directions, she lifted her shoulders. “Wear that blue button-down you bought for the hospital Christmas party last year. I like how that looks on you.”

His brow quirked. “Tell me, which part do you like?”

Darby winced. Had she really just said that she liked how his shirt fit him?

“The part that covers you up,” she quipped, stepping into the back hallway leading to their private offices. No way would she admit to liking how the material emphasized his broad shoulders and narrow waist.

“Now, now,” he chided, “that’s not how you should be talking to the man you’re madly in love with.”

Certain her heart throbbed in her throat, despite knowing such a feat was physically impossible, Darby froze, rounded on him. “I’m not madly in love with you.”

She might have feelings for Blake, but she didn’t do love. At the young age of sweet sixteen she’d learned that love hurt way too much, and credited herself with being intelligent enough not to make the same mistake twice.

“Oh?” His brow lifted again, high enough that a lock of his inky hair hid the top of the arch. “Is this a one-sided love affair, then? I’m insane for you, but you’re immune to my charms?” His lips twitched. “Or are you just using me for phenomenal sex?”