The Back-Up Plan by Debra Webb Page B

toes by assuming her answer backed him up or took his side. “There’s no need to thank me, Mr. B—Hank. My medical opinion has nothing to do with either you or Ms. Masters.”
    That charming smile returned to his lips. “I like the way your eyes sparkle when you get fired up, Doc.”
    “I’m not fired up.”
    He chuckled, but it came out sounding more like a sigh. “Yes, you are.”
    Oh, the man infuriated her! He had no idea what she was or was not. Donna stood, seeing her opportunity to end the maddening conversation. “I really have to get back to work now.” She turned her back on him and moved to the sink to put her cup away, trying not to think about how rude she had just been.
    “It’s worse than I thought.”
    Donna spun around to find him moving in her direction. From the moment he showed up at her door she had focused on his beard-shadowed face and impossibly wide shoulders, not permitting her gaze to drop any lower. But now, she held her breath and gave in to the temptation as he came closer. She took in all of him. Shoulders strained against the fabric of his well-worn gray tee-shirt. Short sleeves encircled strong arms tanned to a golden brown. A mile-wide chest. Narrow waist. Faded denim encased long, muscular legs. He looked rumpled and sexy and...dangerous.
    Things had just gotten worse.
    Heat burned in her cheeks when she realized he was watching her watch him. He smiled. Her heart lurched. Time seemed to lapse into slow motion as he eliminated the length of vinyl-covered floor between them. When he stopped, she was trapped between the counter and his powerful body.
    “I just want you to know that I’m not the kind of guy you think I am.”
    She held her breath in an effort to slow her racing heart. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”
    “Yes you do.” He leaned in closer, resting a hand against the counter on either side of her. “Be honest, Doc. Tell me what you really think of me.”
    Donna eased back as far as the counter would allow and still she couldn’t get enough distance between them. She reminded herself of all the things she disliked about him, but only one came out of her mouth. “You’re a jock.”
    “Well, I can’t deny that.” His mouth twitched with the effort of fending off a smile. “Is that bad?”
    “I—” She wished she could breathe but if she did she would draw in that sexy scent of his. “I don’t care for the arrogance that generally goes with the tough guy type.”
    The smile broke loose, spreading wide. “I’m no tough guy,” he whispered, seeming closer, his lips both threatening and promising a kiss. “I’m just a guy.”
    “Thank you for clearing that up, but I really should get back to my painting.” She gestured vaguely.
    His gaze dropped to her mouth. “You know, when I was a kid I played in this house.”
    “Oh?” She’d intended to sound disinterested, not breathless.
    “A good friend of mine, Dan Langford, grew up in this house,” Hank explained, sounding a bit winded himself. “I had my first kiss right here in this kitchen.”
    The heat radiating from his body seemed to scorch her. “This kiss”—she began, fighting the urge to sway closer to him—“it had nothing to do with your friend, Dan, I hope.”
    Hank’s smile evolved into a low breathy chuckle. “It had nothing to do with Dan,” he said softly, seeming closer still, though she knew he hadn’t moved. “And everything to do with his older sister, Natalie.”
    His charm worked its magic, but she resisted. “You really should go.”
    He made no move to do as she asked.
    Didn’t he know when he was being thrown out? Donna had to get it through his thick head that she had boundaries—boundaries she had no intention of violating. Just being close to him was playing with fire. Her best intentions had flown out the window the moment he walked through the door.
    “You don’t trust me?” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his fingers stirring