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would miraculously melt away and reveal all of her creamy skin
to his gaze.
    “Good.” She stood upright and tugged the blanket back into
the place. The action tightened the bedding over his lap, revealing the outline
of his erection.
    As she circled the bed, he tried to press his hips as deep
into the mattress as possible to minimize the pup tent and prayed she didn’t
notice.
    “I’m going to check your lacerations now.”
    He couldn’t keep his eyes off her face as she peeled away
the bandage on his arm. How many times in the past had he spoken to Dr. Jovanovich
when he had come to question a victim or suspect for one of his cases? Not once
had he stopped to notice just how beautiful she was. Details of his job had
made him only see the professional, cut-to-the-chase woman who neither stood
out nor faded into the background.
    Funny how a chance meeting in the dark highlighted the woman
underneath the green scrubs. The bit of sunshine that filtered through the
drawn blinds highlighted the auburn shades in her brunette braid and matched
the color of her eyes. The tinge of pink blush on her cheeks complemented her
olive complexion and the roundness of her features. When she was in full
concentration mode, her lips softened into plump little pillows he wanted to
stroke with the tip of his tongue. Damn. Why hadn’t he noticed her sooner? He
could have…
    What? He could have asked her out? Fit time with her into
his schedule while he was hunting Smithwick? Did a woman with her tastes even
engage in an activity as mundane as dating?
    Dr. Jovanovich was so out of his league. His past
experiences with women were either the occasional casual fling, never lasting
more than a few dates, or a one-night stand here and there. And then there were
the years spent pining for a woman who had only looked at him as a friend.
Brett Briggs’s marriage to Lucian Kilsgaard’s brother effectively ended all
dreams of her coming back to the city and finding a place in his arms. Once he
had come to terms with that reality, the only time the thought of female
companionship crossed his mind was when he was horny, and his hand was
sufficient to scratch that itch.
    Now here stood the doc. A woman who he was certain carried a
PhD in male/female relationships. A woman who could chew him up and spit him
out and make him ask for more His idea of wild-crazy-sexy probably didn’t rate
a raised eyebrow on her Richter scale.
    But he wanted to find out. He wanted to sample a tiny morsel
of what he knew Mistress Jasmina could provide almost as badly as he wanted to
see Smithwick behind bars.
    The flutter of her fingers as she worked loose the bandage
across his chest made him bite back a moan of pleasure. Only the sight of the
red slash running from the center of his sternum to the edge of his left nipple
tempered his desire.
    “Looking good,” she murmured. “An inch deeper, the story
would have been much different. You were lucky. Many times over.”
    “Thanks,” he mumbled.
    The examination continued with a check of his vitals and a
glance into his eyes with a bright light. She nodded in response to whatever
she saw, then reached out, spearing her fingers into his hair. With the same
gentle touch she used with his feet, she rubbed and pressed all over his scalp.
With the bare curve of her neck mere inches away, the clean scent of her skin
mixed with the mellow sensation of her hands made his blood hum in his veins.
He detected no other perfumes or artificial scents, just pure Jasmina.
    He felt his lips part and his tongue wanted to lick along
the ridge of her collarbone. He wanted to sink his teeth into the plump pillow
of her bare earlobe, just to hear that quiet little gasp of air again.
    She hit a sore spot on his scalp and he hissed. She moved
her touch lower to press against the stiff muscles at the base of his skull and
this time he could not contain a groan of pleasure. The woman was killing him.
“You’ve got magic fingers there, Doc. I