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sensing nothing threatening or presumptuous in his actions. It was as though he simply…belonged. Working alongside someone, fighting to pull life back into another human formed a common bond between people—even if those people had been heavily eye-flirting only moments before, she thought grimly.
    “Thank you for the drink.” She picked up the glass, took a cautious sip.
    “Water and lemon. I didn’t know your preference, and it seemed the safest choice.”
    Beth watched as he lifted his glass to his mouth and drank deeply. She swallowed as if the cool liquid was sluicing down her own suddenly parched throat and wondered how the simple act of water sliding past his lips could appear so erotic. And the way he licked it from his lips—not a regular old dart-and-swish, mind you, but a leisurely swipe of his tongue, and she could almost feel the rasp of it along the seam of her…
    Heat, dark and rich, infused her sex. She shifted in her chair and tipped her hips down in an attempt to relieve the ache building there, only to find it heightened the sensation.
    “It’s not very comfortable, is it?”
    Blinking, Beth watched Gabe’s mouth curl into a slight smile. When she looked up, a glint of amused hunger brightened his eyes.
    He knows. He knows what he’s doing to me. How freaking embarrassing! And how incredibly hot.
    She cleared her throat. “I’m sorry?” Was that her voice, all breathy and sultry?
    He paused, studied her for a moment, and then said, “The chair…it’s not very comfortable.”
    Relief washed over her, quickly followed by a touch of disappointment. Had she misread him? “No, no it isn’t.” To prove it, Beth shifted again and crossed her legs. She groaned inwardly when the change of position rubbed her thighs and the needy territory between them together, intensifying her little problem.
    “Sometimes,” Gabe started thoughtfully, turning his glass in small half circles on the tabletop and drawing her attention there. His broad thumb streaked the condensation on the glass and then paused to slowly circle one small area. Beth scrunched down a little and squeezed her thighs together. “Sometimes, you have to find just the right…spot.”
    Clench!
    “Yes, well,” Beth clamped her fingers around her glass. Her toes curled inside her shoes. She shifted slightly, dragging her gaze up from the motion of his thumb on the glass. Warm, observant eyes looked back at her, full of promise and possibilities. Well. Maybe she hadn’t misread him after all. “Fortunately, I won’t be sitting on it for long.”
    “Fortunately,” he agreed solemnly.
    Beth’s eyes narrowed. Were his lips twitching? Frowning, she willed her body to behave. Easier said than done, with that hard length of muscled thigh pressing against hers each time either of them moved. “You were saying?”
    He watched her for a moment, as if considering her question, then rolled his glass between his palms. “You work in health care.”
    The abrupt turn in the conversation took Beth by surprise. It took her a second to regroup and form a response, but at least he’d stopped rubbing the damn glass. “That obvious, huh?”
    “Not everyone carries exam gloves and a respiratory mask in her purse.”
    “Or keeps a medical bag with a defibrillator in his car,” she countered.
    His mouth curved in a wry grin. “True,” he conceded with a tip of his glass. “You did a hell of a job with Albert.” He tapped his thumb against the tabletop. “I’m guessing you’re either a paramedic or work in an ER.”
    Beth inclined her head, acknowledging her field and accepting his compliment. Unfamiliar warmth spread in her chest at his praise. What in the world was wrong with her? Coworkers complimented each other all the time, especially after a particularly intense situation. It was as much a stress breaker as congratulations on a job well done. But a compliment from Gabe meant something to her—maybe more than it should. “I’m an