“The family room? Are you sure that makes sense?”
She looked annoyed. Beautiful, but annoyed. “It makes perfect sense. We want parents to know that they have a place to relax when their child is ill. Besides, the majority of people take high-tech equipment for granted. Dr. Rainey pointed that out during the meeting.”
Nick figured Al Rainey was trying to score points with Michelle. Or more than likely just score. That made Nick more than mad. The guy was a class-A jerk, especially when it came to attractive women. Someone needed to remind him that he was married, and often. “No offense, but Al Rainey is a plastic surgeon.” And a mediocre one at that. “Face-lifts are his forte, not ad campaigns.”
“Actually the idea was mine.”
Well, hell, he’d really done it now. “Oh, yeah?”
Michelle frowned. “Yeah. And quite frankly, Dr. Rainey’s been very cooperative and insightful. As a matter of fact, he always comes early to the meetings.”
Nick chose to ignore the dig at his tardiness, but he couldn’t disregard her defense of a known hospital lecher. “Rumor has it that Rainey comes early in all his endeavors.”
Michelle cleared her throat and blushed like the devil. “Well, he is the chair of the committee and he agrees that we should focus on the family room.”
He’d lay money that Al had his focus on Michelle.
Nick couldn’t get a handle on his sudden jealousy. He also couldn’t resist pushing some of Michelle’s buttons, just like she’d pushed some of his at the wedding. Like she was pushing some now. Hot buttons. “I personally believe that if we’re going to be taken seriously here at Memorial, we should center on quality health care. That is, if my opinion matters, since it takes me a lot longer than Rainey to arrive when it comes to certain undertakings.”
Michelle slipped off the glasses and tapped one armature against her chin, looking calm and collected. But the blush was still apparent on her cheeks. “Of course your opinion is valued, Doctor. And I promise the new equipment will be mentioned in the ad copy. Will that satisfy you?”
The only thing that would satisfy him at the moment would be to kiss that sassy look off her face. “Yeah, that pleases me right nice, Ms. Lewis.”
Her smile finally made an appearance, revealing her damnable dimples, heralding victory. “I’m so glad you’re pleased, Dr. Kempner. Anything else I can do for you?”
Oh, yeah, he could think of several things, and none were proper.
Batting the thoughts away like a persistent fly, he gave her a little salute. “Nope, that’s all.” He answered her smile with one of his own. “For starters.”
Of all the confounded cocky doctors, Nick Kempner was at the top of Michelle’s list. And a long list it was.
No doubt about it, the man had an uncanny knack for getting her hackles up. It had all started the first day they’d officially met at Brooke and Jared’s wedding. Out of respect for her brother-in-law and sister, she’d tolerated him then. Out of respect for her job, she’d tolerated him today. Not that he wasn’t really nice to look at.
But she wasn’t one to kowtow to men unless absolutely necessary. She imagined that plenty of women would perform back flips for Nick Kempner, or anything else he requested. All he probably had to do was flash his pearly whites and nail them with those mocha-colored eyes and Whamo! They were immediately transformed into mindless sheep searching for a slick shepherd.
Not Michelle. She’d had her fill of silver-tongued healers with lovin’ on their minds, some sporting a marriage license along with an M.D., as well as a penchant for hiding the truth. Of course, Nick Kempner was unattached. Not that it mattered, considering his reputation with the ladies. Nor did it matter that he was Brooke’s husband’s best friend, or that Brooke had strongly hinted that Michelle should get to know him better. That was one rocky road Michelle intended to avoid, regardless of her sibling’s less-than-subtle matchmaking attempts. And Nick Kempner’s overt charisma.
Michelle strode toward the elevators, trailing behind the stream of medical staff returning to their jobs from lunch. At least the meeting had gone well. After the meeting was another thing altogether, thanks to Nick Kempner.
“Hey, Ms. Lewis, wait up.”
Good Lord, was he following her?
She turned to face the recent burr in her bottom but continued to walk backward. “More concerns, Dr. Kempner?”
“Nope. No more concerns.” He gave her a lingering once-over and an optimum grin. A smile designed to liquefy joints. And darned if it didn’t.
Feeling as exposed as if she were wearing a half-undone hospital gown, Michelle clutched the computer’s case to her chest. “Then what else can I do for you?”
“I just want another minute of your time.”
They came to a stop in front of the elevators, and she had to look up at him. She’d reached five-ten during her sophomore year in high school, so looking up at a man wasn’t a common occurrence.
“Your ride’s here, Michelle,” Dr. Rainey called out, his hand battling the insistent elevator doors.
“Go ahead,” she said. “I’ll catch the next one.”
Rainey’s smile wasn’t nearly as effective as the patent Kempner grin. “Okay. If you’re sure.”
“I’m sure.” She brought her attention back to Nick and impatiently tapped her foot. “Yes?”
“He just beats all now, don’t he?” Nick drawled.
“Why, Dr. Kempner, with that accent, one might think your moniker should be Billy Bob.”
“Guess my roots are showing.”
“Roots?”
“Born-and-bred Texan.”
She sent a pointed look at his feet. Cross trainers, not cowhide. Big cross trainers. Big feet. She met his steady gaze. “Oh, those kind of roots.”
“Yeah. Not to be mistaken for Rainey’s roots. The guy really needs to restock on hair dye.”
Michelle tried not to smile but couldn’t quite get a grip on her grin. “You really don’t like him much, do you?”
“Ah, now, does it show?”
“Just a bit.” She leaned back against the wall separating the two elevators, the sudden awkward silence broken only by the operator paging someone on staff. “I really have to get back, so if you can just tell me what you need.” Boy, was that leaving herself wide open for all sorts of possibilities.
He zeroed in on her eyes. She wanted to look away, but couldn’t. “I owe you an apology for questioning your expertise. And a belated one for my faux pas at Brooke and Jared’s wedding.”
Apology? She certainly didn’t expect that. “Apology accepted, Dr. Kempner. Okay?”
He cocked one shoulder against the wall and faced her. He smelled good, looked even better. “It’s Nick, and it’s not okay. I got a bit out of hand.”
Her reaction to him was getting out of hand. Way out of hand. Her pulse jumped like a cat on a hot grill. She’d been annoyed by his failure to make the meeting on time, and now she was annoyed at herself for finding him attractive. Would she ever learn? “Let’s call a truce.”
“Good idea. After all, we’re in this together.”
Now why did that sound so darned intimate? “Yes, I guess you’re right.”
He pointed at her