“Neither.” Not a single hair out of place on her tightly pulled-back hairstyle, Faith shook her head. “I can’t do lunch today.”
Mentally, he ran through her schedule. They were leaving the office early to head to Cape May so she only had a few afternoon appointments. “You aren’t scheduled for anything until one, are you?”
She didn’t meet his eyes. “No, but I have other lunch plans. Sorry.”
Vale’s gut tightened. Had she made plans to meet the mysterious man in her life? The one who’d been glad to see her the night before even though Vale had managed to keep her out past eleven? Had she lain in his arms recounting the day’s events?
How had he not known she was seeing someone? Why did the fact that she was make his stomach knot?
Not because when she’d looked at him last night, he’d grown hard in response to her visual undressing. She’d liked what she’d seen and hell if he hadn’t wanted to preen under the intensity of her green gaze.
Which was all wrong. He never, ever got involved with a colleague, and particularly not one who worked for him.
Besides, she wasn’t his type.
Sex with Faith would be complicated, would come with all kinds of expectations on her part. He only had sex with uncomplicated women who knew better than to expect more from him. He’d learned long ago not to want or expect more either.
Sex?
He did not want to sleep with Faith—which was the truth. Sleep had nothing to do with what he’d found himself thinking of last night, this morning when he’d awakened.
He didn’t like being aware of her. Of waking with the scent of her perfume and sound of her laughter fresh in his mind.
“I’m allowed to take a non-working lunch break.” Shoving her glasses up the straight slant of her pert little nose, she looked as exasperated as she sounded.
“You should have told me. I’d planned to review the information we compiled last night prior to making a final decision on the initial patients to receive the procedure.” Why was she being so evasive? Who was she having lunch with? The mystery man? Perhaps they weren’t having lunch at all? “Cancel your plans.”
Annoyance flashed in her eyes, surprising him. Faith never argued with him, never went against his wishes, never made lunch plans. She ate lunch with him. The only time they didn’t share a working lunch was if he made other plans.
Glancing at her watch with a disgusted look, her shoulders fell a notch, slamming him with unaccustomed guilt rather than the satisfaction that should have come with knowing he was about to get his way. And what was with her and looking at her watch the past two days? Faith wasn’t a clock-watcher.
“Fine.” She exhaled deeply, “I was fooling myself that I had time to get my hair done and find a dress for the wedding in an hour anyway.”
Vale stopped walking, standing perfectly still on the sidewalk as throngs of people continued to bustle around them without missing a beat. He stared at Faith, and decided that, yes, like he was often told, he really was a selfish jerk. Here Faith was going to his cousin’s wedding, spending the weekend working and protecting him from his family’s matchmaking, and he hadn’t given one thought to the fact that she might want to have her hair done or buy a new outfit. He hadn’t given one thought that Faith was a woman with normal female urges, like desiring new outfits for social events.
Then again, during the entire time he’d known Faith, she hadn’t acted like other women. Why should he have thought this weekend would be any different? If he’d thought about what she’d wear, he would have said scrubs or maybe a hyper-masculine gray suit and a hairstyle any librarian would be proud of.
“What time is your appointment?”
She didn’t glance up. “It doesn’t matter. I’ll cancel.”
But beneath the clear lenses of her glasses, her eyes had grown shiny and his sense of guilt gnawed at his belly, threatening to give him an ulcer if he didn’t make amends. What was the aura about her that made him want to make her happy?
“Why did you leave your appointment until so late? Surely you could have shopped for a dress earlier in the week?”
Her mouth dropped and if glares were bullets he’d be six feet under. “Did you really just ask me that when you’ve had me at the office every night this week until after ten?” Realizing what she’d said, her jaw dropped even lower. “Not that I mind,” she recanted. “I like my job. It’s just … well …” She fumbled, taking a deep breath. “I don’t have anything appropriate to wear to the wedding and I’ve been thinking about getting my hair cut anyway. I thought prior to the wedding would be as good a time as any.”
His gaze immediately went to her hair. She always kept her hair pulled tightly into the professional bun. He couldn’t recall ever having seen her hair down. Odd, considering how long they’d known each other.
What did she look like with her hair down?
He was struck with the need to know, the need to see her dark blond locks loose. Would the strands barely brush her shoulders or would they cascade down her back?
“Get your hair done.” He ran his gaze over the sleeked-back strands nestled at her nape. “But not short, okay?”
He wasn’t sure why he added the last. The length of her hair was none of his business. If she wanted to go bald, other than their patients’ reactions, he had no right to say a word.
“I probably wouldn’t have had time anyway, Vale. Thinking I did was wishful thinking.”
He’d give her time. He owed her that much. She was saving him from his family’s matchmaking.
“I’ll see your patients.”
Her face flushing, she shook her head, eyeing him as if he must be running a fever. “That won’t be necessary.” But it was necessary.
“Look, Faith, I’m a slave driver. There’s no question of that.” He raked his fingers through his hair, wondering why the spring air that had felt so good moment’s earlier now cut into him. “But you’re right. Your lunches are your own, even if I do monopolize them. Go. Get your hair done however you want. Buy yourself a new dress.”
“But—”
“Actually,” he withdrew his wallet from his back pocket. “Take the rest of the afternoon off and buy yourself a dress for tonight, too. On me.”
Her face pale, she stared at the cash in his hand. “I can’t take your money.”
“Sure you can,” he teased. “You do every pay period.”
“That’s different.” Her lips pursed. “I’ve earned my paycheck. This is different.”
“Look, it’s my fault you need new clothes and to have your hair done. It’s only fair I pay.” He shoved the cash into her palm, closed her hand around the money. How his fingers lingered, how he wanted to hold her hand for real, surprised him. He forced his smile to stay in place despite his unhappiness with his wayward fingers, despite his confusion over what the hell was going on with his reactions to Faith.
“Go,” he ordered. “Have fun, and I’ll pick you up from your place.”
“Yep, Yoda,” Faith agreed with the yapping dog bouncing around at her feet while she studied her new image in the mirror, “I barely recognize myself, too.”
She couldn’t believe the difference a decent hair cut, highlighting, and facial could make. A fairy godmother waving a magic wand and singing “Bippity-boppity-boo” couldn’t have conjured a more drastic transformation.
Faith hadn’t had time over the past few years