Cal and Ashley’s wedding anniversary.
“—to make thing right.”
“And if that doesn’t happen?” Cal demanded.
Fletcher scowled. “Then the women in the family are stepping in.”
“IF YOU KEEP this up, people are going to start calling you the Artful Dodger.”
The low sexy voice with the hint of Southern drawl echoed through the Honolulu General staff lounge. Her heart leaping with a mixture of pleasure and surprise, Ashley turned to see her husband of almost three years standing in the doorway. Joy swept through her as she hungrily surveyed him.
Cal was wearing a loose-fitting tropical print silk shirt that made the most of his hard-muscled chest and broad shoulders. Pleated trousers nicely outlined his trim waistline and long sturdy legs. His short, traditionally cut ash-blond hair was brushed away from his face, and his smooth golden skin glowed with good health. The hint of a traveler’s beard clung to his strong—and exceedingly stubborn—Hart jaw. Taken alone, his features weren’t particularly outstanding. His nose bore the scars of a childhood athletic injury. His brows and thick, short eyelashes were so light in hue that you could hardly see them, and his upper lip was a little on the thin side. And yet, together, those penetrating pewter-gray eyes and not-so-perfect features combined to make a drop-everything, he-is-so-arresting man. Not to mention, she thought wistfully, how stealthily he moved—as if all that male power were just waiting to be unleashed. Or how intimately he looked at her, which suggested he couldn’t wait to get her back into his arms and into his bed.
“Cal.” Ashley stared at him in shock.
“Well that’s something anyway.” He grinned at her lazily. “At least you recall my name.”
Beneath the teasing tone was a hint of hurt that was baffling, since Cal rarely revealed the inner workings of his heart and mind to her or anyone else. Ashley swallowed around the sudden lump in her throat, sensing that was about to change. He had four inches on her, so at five foot ten, she still had to tilt her head back to clearly see into his face.
“What are you doing here?” she demanded, wondering if his sturdy masculine presence and six-foot-two frame would ever stop making her feel tiny. “I thought—”
Cal arched his blond brow. “That I was going to wait until you gave me the signal it was okay to come and get you?”
Aware he was now standing close enough for her to inhale the sea-and-sun fragrance of his cologne, Ashley shoved aside the familiar anxiety bubbling up inside her, ducked beneath a Congratulations, Ashley! banner and went back to pulling things out of her locker and dropping them in a cardboard box. “Who said anything about you coming to get me?” She had wanted to be prepared for this no doubt difficult tête-à-tête. She had wanted to know precisely what to say.
Cal stepped closer. “Exactly. There were no plans made. And yet,” he observed, his voice dropping a seductive notch, “your last shift at the hospital was today.”
Ashley drew a deep breath and turned to face him. “What’s gotten into you?” Feeling the need for some protection from the emotions shimmering between them, she held her rain jacket in front of her like a shield.
Cal took it from her and dropped it into the box of belongings. “What do you mean?”
Her pulse pounding, Ashley whirled back to get a few books. “You’re normally so…easygoing and patient when it comes to stuff like this,” she said as she dropped them on top of her jacket. Today he seemed anything but that.
Cal’s eyes gleamed with a predatory light. He flattened his hand on the locker next to her and leaned in close. “Which is perhaps the problem, Ash. Maybe I’m too good at waiting and not nearly as good at going after what I want.”
Oh, my. “Which is—?” Ashley countered.
Cal took her in his arms and swept her close, until they were touching intimately. “For starters, this,” he told her as his lips came down on hers.
Their first kiss after a long separation always radiated lots of feeling and passion. And this one, Ashley noted as Cal’s lips and tongue laid claim to hers, was no exception. He tasted like the spearmint gum he carried in his pocket. And, as his arms wrapped tightly around her, she felt that she had finally come home. Not that this was any surprise.
Ashley had loved Cal practically from the first moment she had set eyes on him, during her freshman year of college at Wake Forest. Maybe it was because he was four years older than she was—already a first-year med student when they met—but he had always overwhelmed her with his confidence and sexy Southern charm. She felt safe when she was with him. Desired. Every inch a woman.
It was only when they were miles apart, out of each other’s arms, that the doubts crept in about their love lasting forever. But when he was kissing her like this, his lips moving surely over hers, all she could think was how right he felt pressed up against her.
They could have gone on forever like that, wrapped in each other’s arms, kissing madly, if it hadn’t been for the sound of a door opening behind them. Followed by a discreet cough and laughter.
“No need to ask what you two are doing,” the maternity-ward nurse said.
Cal lifted his head reluctantly. “Celebrating!” he said, looking more than ready to do it all over again.
Ashley relaxed in Cal’s arms, laying her head on his chest, as the nurse beamed. She looked at Ashley. “You must have told him about the job offer in Maui! Isn’t that fabulous?” The nurse turned back to Cal. “Do you know how many of us would give up our vacations to work there?”
Silence fell as the impact of her words sank in. Cal’s expression turned troubled, as did Ashley’s and then the nurse’s. Ashley held up a hand before an apology could be made.
The nurse took another look at their expressions, then smiled again and quite wisely made for the door. “I’ll, uh, see you two aren’t disturbed,” she stated delicately on her way out.
Cal just stood there, looking as if he felt as shut out of Ashley’s life as she often did of his. Guilt flooded her. As usual, it seemed she was going to be damned if she did and damned if she didn’t. If she declined this job, her parents and Dr. Connelly, her mentor here, and everyone else she worked with was going to be disappointed in her. And Cal wouldn’t be pleased with her no matter what she did. He expected her to be as successful in her career as he was in his, yet he didn’t want any work-related demands interfering with their time together. Given the fact she was an obstetrician and he a surgeon—both of them prone to be called out at any moment on patient emergencies—that was one tough bill to fill. Aware he was still waiting for an explanation, she said finally, “I was going to tell you.”
Cal studied her, his gray eyes distant. “I take it this means you haven’t turned the position down yet,” he replied.
Ashley shrugged, wishing she were clad in something other than blue cotton scrubs and tennis shoes. Maybe if she were dressed like Cal—in sophisticated street clothes—she’d feel more confident. Feeling errant strands escaping down the back of her neck and brushing the sides of her face, Ashley released the butterfly clip that held her hair. She straightened the strands with her fingers, twisted them into a loop and put her hair back up. “I just found out about it last week.”
“Your coworkers know about it.”
Ashley knew he expected first dibs on news like that. And she would have told him, if she’d had any other job offers to go along with it. But she hadn’t because she’d been so busy finishing up her fellowship that she hadn’t even had time to really start looking for a permanent position. This one had just fallen into her lap. When she had talked to Cal, she had wanted to have more options to present. So he wouldn’t be as disappointed