Chapter 3

"Sit."

I stepped into Dr. Owen's office and the door clicked shut behind me. The room smelled like him. That intoxicating scent of pine and something darker, muskier. My knees went weak.

He sat behind his desk, looking at his computer screen. When he glanced up at me, the world stopped. Those amber eyes locked onto mine and heat flooded my face, my neck, my entire body. I felt like I was burning up from the inside.

"Sit," he repeated, his voice stern.

I sank into the chair across from his desk, my hands gripping my knees. Don't stare. Don't make it weird. Act professional.

He opened a file on his desk. My file. "Mary Hart. Twenty two years old. Graduated top of your class from Westbrook Medical Academy. Started your internship here three months ago. Excellent academic record but minimal practical experience." He looked up. "Until today."

I bit my lip, saying nothing.

He stood up and walked around the desk. My breath caught. He leaned back against the desk, right in front of me. So close I could smell his cologne. So close I could see the gold flecks in his eyes. My mind went completely blank.

All I could think about was how much I wanted to reach out and touch him. To run my hands over that chest, to feel those arms around me. To taste his lips. God, what was wrong with me?

"So tell me," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "how did you perform one of the most difficult surgeries in modern medicine?"

"Um." My voice came out as a squeak. I cleared my throat. "I guess it was just luck, sir. Maybe the adrenaline rush."

"Hmm. Interesting." He tilted his head, studying me. "Adrenaline doesn't go to medical school, Mary. You were reckless. You could have made the situation more critical. That patient could have died on your table."

"But he didn't." The words came out sharper than I intended.

His eyebrow raised. "No. He didn't. In fact, he's doing remarkably well. Dr. Stevens said your technique was flawless. Almost too flawless for someone with your level of experience."

The way he looked at me made my stomach flutter. Like he was trying to solve a puzzle. Like I was something fascinating and confusing at the same time.

"And this thing you've been doing since the board meeting," he continued, his voice dropping lower, "what's that about?"

"What are you talking about?" I tried to sound innocent, but my voice shook.

"Don't play dumb with me, Miss Hart." He leaned forward slightly and I nearly melted into the chair. "Looking into my eyes all through the meeting like the road to your house is mapped in there. Smiling with that messy hair of yours. Do you have any idea what you did? You made my wolf restless."

Oh god. Oh god. He caught me. My face burned so hot I thought I might spontaneously combust. His wolf? He felt it too? That pull between us?

"I don't know what you're talking about, sir," I lied. "I was only paying attention to the meeting."

His lips curved into a slight smile. It was devastating. "Really? Then tell me, what was the last instruction I gave at the meeting?"

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. My mind was completely blank. I'd been so focused on watching him, on the way his mouth moved when he talked, on the way his eyes kept finding mine, that I hadn't heard a single word after I sat down.

"Um. You said..." I bit my lip, trying desperately to remember. "You said... um..."

"That's what I thought." He straightened up, and the small smile remained. "I'm not complaining though. But be careful, Mary. I don't do interns."

"I'm not trying to 'do you,'" I shot back, using finger quotes.

"Your body language says otherwise."

Before I could respond, before I could even process what he'd just said, there was a sharp knock on the door.

"Dr. Owen, we have a case. Ward twelve. Possible cardiac arrest. They need you immediately."

"I'll be there shortly," he called out.

He looked back at me, and for a moment, something soft flickered in his eyes. Something that made my heart squeeze.

"You're dismissed, Miss Hart."

I stood on shaky legs and headed for the door. My hand was on the handle when his voice stopped me.

"Mary."

I turned back. He was watching me with an expression I couldn't quite read. Intense. Hungry almost.

"You know..I like it when your hair is messy."