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stone
     walls must really provide an excellent sound barrier.
    Flanking the fireplace were two built-in bookshelves bursting with paperbacks and
     a few framed photographs. When two minutes dragged into five, I gave in to my curiosity
     and got up for a closer look. The books ranged from legal thrillers to medical thrillers,
     but that wasn’t what interested me.
    Julian was in one of the photos. He stood with his arm around the shoulders of a younger,
     less intense version of himself. His brother? I seemed to recall hearing he had one
     at university in England at some point during my residency. Two of the other photos
     were of the same young man, one a posed football picture and the other a casual shot
     of him on a boat, grinning from ear to ear. The last was probably a formal portrait
     of Julian’s parents—the resemblance between all the males was unmistakable.
    Feeling like I was invading his privacy, I turned away. But before I could return
     to my seat, the door opened and Julian appeared.
    In the space of a heartbeat, his larger-than-life presence occupied every corner of
     my mind. Though he’d hardly changed at all, there was something very different about
     him. Time had deepened the grooves in his boldly chiseled face and he wore dark-rimmed
     glasses, which made his gray eyes seem larger and more intense. His dark blond hair
     was longer, his forehead perhaps a bit higher than I remembered. And he was dressed
     in a heather-blue turtleneck sweater and time-worn Levis that clung lovingly to his
     tall, raw-boned physique.
    It dawned on me that I’d never seen him without a lab coat.
    I was in Dr. Julian Kilmartin’s home .
    The unexpected intimacy left me breathless as he paused just inside to inspect me—or
     that was how it felt, anyway. Suddenly I was acutely conscious of how long it had
     been since I looked in the mirror. Dammit, I should have said I needed to go to the
     bathroom. I hardly ever wore makeup and I’d caught myself rubbing my itchy eyes more
     than once during the drive. And it felt like half my hair had escaped from its pony
     tail. Why hadn’t I used something sturdier than a scarf to tie it back?
    Then Julian’s lips curved in a smile, something else I’d never seen him wearing. It
     left me completely discombobulated as he walked toward me.
    Taking my hands, he murmured, “Dr. McBride.”
    “Dr. Kilmartin.” While my mouth replied automatically, the rest of me screamed with
     awareness that he was touching me. In the two years we’d worked in the same hospital, he’d never touched me, never even brushed my arm in passing.
    He gave a warm squeeze. “Thank you for coming.”
    Like I could refuse.
    It didn’t dawn on me until he laughed that I’d said that out loud.
    “I’m glad to hear it,” he said. Letting go of one of my hands, he gestured toward
     the table. Colin was already there, pulling out a chair. “Won’t you join us for dinner?”
    “Thank you, that would be wonderful.”
    “After you, then.”
    His hand in the small of my back, he guided me to the chair Colin had pulled out.
     Wow, they really went in for the courtly manners around here. I couldn’t remember
     the last time anyone had escorted me to the table or pulled out my chair for me.
    While Colin took the seat across from me, Julian sat down a bit gingerly at the head
     of the table.
    Years of conditioning made me ask, “Are you all right?”
    “Yes, yes.” He waved me off as he leaned back. “Just overdid my last workout.”
    “Good for you,” I said, unfolding the maroon napkin and laying it across my lap. “I
     can’t remember the last time I worked out.”
    “You’ll have to start. Being in peak physical condition is especially important for
     surgeons. Colin will show you the facilities tomorrow and Hans will help you set up
     a balanced but challenging exercise regimen.”
    “Of course, Sir,” Colin said with a nod.
    My hackles rose slightly, but I reminded myself who he was.