One Night with the Doctor Read Online Free PDF Page B

smile. “How about you?”
    “I have a whole box, too,” Poppy said rashly.
    “Really?”
    His tone was clearly skeptical and, well, it rankled. She was positive—or almost positive—that she had five or six badges packed away...somewhere. And six was almost a boxful.
    Feeling suddenly relaxed, Poppy ignored the warning flags popping up in her head.
    “I’ll show you my badges if you show me yours,” she taunted.
    “You’ve got a deal.” He caught her hand in his, lifted it to his mouth and pressed a kiss against her wrist before she could stop him.
    She jerked her hand back, the warm moist imprint of his lips searing her skin.
    He smirked. “If there’s going to be a badge showing tonight, we’ll need to fuel up. Dinner then badges. It’s part of the deal.”
    Deal? For a second, panic clogged her throat. They didn’t have a deal. She’d been merely enjoying a little lighthearted conversation. Okay, and maybe practicing her rusty flirting skills. Some very rusty skills. Even a high-school girl would know better than to bring up scouting badges.
    Poppy cleared her throat, searching for a painless way out of this mess. “Even if I agreed to dinner, all the restaurants in Jackson Hole are booked for the evening.”
    “A challenge.” His gray eyes reminded her of a shimmery fog. “Do you like Italian?”
    Though the wind had picked up, Poppy wasn’t cold. Heat, mixed with an intoxicating dose of testosterone, rolled off him and wrapped around her. “Doesn’t everyone? But—”
    “Hold that thought.” He pulled a slim phone from his pocket, waited a few seconds for the call to connect then asked for Angelo. “Tell him it’s Ben Campbell.” A moment later, he confirmed a table for two.
    He pocketed the phone. Satisfaction blanketed his face. “We have a reservation at the Trattoria.”
    Poppy’s resolve to keep her distance wavered as her stomach emitted a low growl. Visions of her favorite pasta dish danced in her head. “The Ravioli di Granchio is my favorite.”
    Ben smiled. “What’s not to love about large ravioli stuffed with stone crab and shrimp in a creamy lobster sauce?”
    “I’m impressed.”
    “Don’t be,” he said with a laugh. “My familiarity with the menu merely tells you how often I eat out.”
    “How did you get a reservation? The place was booked solid for tonight.” Poppy distinctly remembered Lexi mentioning that fact to her only last week.
    He merely shrugged.
    Poppy wondered who Angelo was and what his connection was to Ben. Before she could press for details he slanted a dismissive glance at her small Ford. “We’ll take my vehicle. I’ll bring you back after dinner to pick up yours.”
    She began shaking her head before he finished speaking. Riding with him would make the evening feel more like, well, a date. She didn’t want to date Ben Campbell. Sharing a meal with an acquaintance, a friend of a friend, was as spontaneous as she wanted to be this evening. Poppy planned to enjoy the ravioli before heading home to Rocky.
    “I’ll meet you at the restaurant.” Instead of drill sergeant brisk, as Poppy had intended, her voice sounded oddly breathless. As if she’d spent the past five minutes running uphill instead of standing still.
    His mouth tightened briefly. For a moment she thought he might argue. After a heartbeat, the determined look on his face eased. “Fine.”
    Poppy glanced down as if she could see the WWII era dress through her cashmere coat. “I should go home and change.”
    “Please don’t.” He placed a hand on her shoulder. “The dress is very pretty.”
    “But hardly...modern.” She found it difficult to think when he stood so near she could see the faint hint of stubble on his jawline. “I wouldn’t want to embarrass you.”
    His brows pulled together as if trying to make sense of the sarcasm in her tone.
    “Will you be uncomfortable wearing it?” he asked after a long moment.
    “No.” Poppy liked the dress, liked the way it