Never Let Go by Sherryl Woods

finally got through to you,” he said. “Where have you been?”
    She couldn’t very well admit she’d been mentally assaulting the man’s body. “Just thinking.”
    “Dare I ask what about?”
    “The hospital, Davey, my schedule for tomorrow, stuff like that.” The words spilled out too quickly, too unconvincingly. Only a very dense man would have believed her, and she knew perfectly well that Justin wasn’t dense.
    “Do you always get such a dreamy, faraway look in your eyes when you think about work?” he inquired with tolerant amusement.
    That proved it. He knew exactly what she’d been thinking or had guessed at some particularly sensual variation of it. She gulped nervously. “Well, I do love my job,” she said with a valiant attempt at bravado.
    “So do I, but I guarantee you it never makes my pulse race.”
    “Who says my pulse was racing?”
    “I do,” he responded. “It pays to be a doctor, you know. When I took hold of your hand a minute ago—which was barely noticed, by the way—I took your pulse. I’ve had patients in the emergency room with a slower heartbeat.”
    She glaredat him. “And just what do you think that proves?”
    “That you want what I want.” His voice was low and all too suggestive.
    “Which is?” Her blood was flowing through her like warm honey, sweet and a little wild. She was going to force him to spell it out. It would do him good to be direct for once. To her amazement, he didn’t bat an eye.
    “To make love.” If the statement had been the least bit crude, Mallory would have denied it with the last breath in her body. Instead the words were gently coaxing and more intoxicating than the finest French champagne.
    “Oh,” she said in a breathless whisper as heat swirled through her and practically melted her on the spot.
    “Well?” His eyes met hers and wouldn’t let go. She fought to cling to some lingering shred of reason, but the only reality was Justin—Justin and the white-hot flame of desire that was burning inside her.
    “Why tonight?” she managed at last.
    Justin heard the hesitation in her voice, saw the hope in her eyes and knew she wanted promises he wasn’t prepared to make, answers he couldn’t give because he didn’t fully understand them himself. He sighed and settled for honesty, even though he knew it might cost him what he wanted more than anything. “Because tonight I need you more than I’ve ever needed anyone before.”
    She nodded solemnly. “Okay.”
    He regarded her in surprise. He’d been prepared for a battle, and she’d offered him a surrender. “That’s it? Okay?”
    There was just the slightest touch of defiance in the lift of her chin, but her voice was gentle. “Make no mistake about it, I want more from you, Justin Whitmore, but for now that’s enough. I need you, too.”
    Her acceptance of his termsthrew him at first. He’d never known a woman like Mallory before, a woman totally without guile, a woman willing to accept a relationship that was free of demands. No, that wasn’t exactly true. He had known women who wanted nothing more than a pleasurable night in bed, but their easy ways had turned him off. Instinctively he knew that Mallory was different and that she was coming to him out of genuine caring. She was asking no more than he was prepared to give because it was the only way she could show him exactly how much she did care.
    “My place or yours?” he said with a touch of irony. It was also a test of sorts. If she chose his, it would mean she was hoping for more than she was letting on. If she invited him to her place, she was allowing him the freedom to leave when he wanted.
    “Mine,” she said readily, and at that instant he realized he was a little bit in love with her. It terrified him, but he couldn’t have changed the direction of the night now if he’d wanted to. His body ached with needing her. For days now he had wanted to know the feel of her beneath him, the scent of her surrounding