Chapter Five

“Is that what you do?”

“Sure do.”

“Shut up,” she said, delighted at this tidbit of information. “What kind?”

“Oh, military romance, all the way. Some romantic suspense, maybe the occasional paranormal romance.”

She laughed aloud. “Vampires?”

“Nope. Shifters. I’m very partial to wolves. Shape-shifting, growling wolves that move in packs.”

“Shut up,” she said again.

“OK, no. I’m totally lying. I’ve never read a racy romance in the whole of my life. But I had you going for a minute there, huh?”

“Yeah.” She felt every ounce of tension just ease out of her shoulders now, and she started to eat with enthusiasm. “Yeah, you got me.”

How Mark wished that that were true… that he had her. That she was his, his all the way, his all the time, and his everywhere. In his life, in his arms. In his bed, and in his heart. He’d make room for her in all of those places.

“So.” Francine smiled up at him, a real smile that made his cock strain against his zipper yet again. “Why don’t you want Mei to know that you’re a doctor?”

“Well, I’m not,” he said, draining the last of his coffee. “Not anymore.”

“When did you stop practicing?”

“When I left Afghanistan. Five years ago.”

“You never wanted to practice here in the States?”

“Oh, I did practice here, kind of. For a little while, right after I first graduated from med school, just to gain some experience.”

“Yeah? What specialization?”

“I never had one. I was always a trauma surgeon, so I did most of my time in the E.R., doing triage on whatever was rolled in the doors. Handling the worst of it, getting patients stable if at all possible, then sending them on to the surgeons and doctors who specialized in whatever it was they needed.”

“But don’t you need extensive training to be a trauma surgeon?” Francine asked. “I mean, you basically have to deal with whatever the problem is, so you have to be able to deal with… well. With everything. Right?”

Mark shrugged, and she saw real humility in that gesture.

“I studied general surgical, thoracic, and vascular procedures. I needed to make hard decisions, with no time and with almost no information, and I did that every single time I went to work. I had to know what I was doing.”

“I’ll bet,” she said quietly.

“I made some bad calls, but I made more good ones, thank Christ. It was the best job I’ve ever had, and doing it in Afghanistan for our troops – while under attack, while taking fire – was the most important work I’ve ever done. I wouldn’t change my time in trauma for anything.”

“And you stopped completely after coming back home?” She hoped she wasn’t pushing, but Francine suddenly wanted to know more about this man. She was just starting to realize that his astonishing good looks were the least interesting thing about him. “You never went back to it after your time in the military?”

“Nope, never did.” Mark sat back, his shoulders huge and broad. The feminine part of her responded to all that strength and muscle – responded fiercely. “I said that my time in trauma and war was the best, most important work that I’ve ever done… I never said it was the easiest.”

She nodded.

“I was burned out when I came back from Afghanistan,” Mark said. “But I still wanted to help people. Keep them safe. Protect them. Bodyguarding seemed like a good fit.”

“I can see that.”

“Dallas only hires people with military backgrounds, since we all need to carry while on duty. We need to be able to make split-second decisions, usually with no time and often with no information, and we need to act calmly and decisively under fire and insane stress. Most importantly, we need to work as a team. No lone wolves in the military, none in protection and security. We need to totally trust each other, and have each other’s backs.”

“You have a thing for wolves, huh?” She was teasing him again, she was shocked to see. “What’s up with that?”

He cocked his head at her, his gorgeous face splitting into a beaming smile. God, it took her breath away. The man was sex on legs, just pure, dark, hot sex, and even though she barely knew him, Francine couldn’t deny her attraction to him.

“Dunno,” he said, his tone playful but his eyes intense. “You’re the shrink, Doctor Cabot. What’s up with me and wolves?”

She swallowed hard. Was he flirting with her? No, impossible.

“Uh, well.” She tried to stay focused. Not so easy with Mark looking at her the way that he was. The force of his charisma just carried over the table at her, so strong and unapologetically male, it was almost a physical touch. Her voice died in her throat, and despite herself, Francine felt her back arch, helplessly, just a tiny bit. Reaching for him. Offering herself to him.

The movement pushed her full breasts forward, and his incredible eyes dropped to her chest. Just for a second, but she saw him look. His hard, powerful gaze flicked over her curves, over her hard nipples pushing up against her thin sweater. And when those mint-green eyes returned to stare into her own blue ones, the hunger and want she saw in them was real. Hot, possessive, overwhelming. Feral. Her whole body jolted in response.

Oh, dear, sweet God. Help.