“I did, actually. Several times. I guess you were both occupied,” he replied casually. “The door was unlocked so I finally came in.”
Oh, God. Sarah wanted to crawl under a rock somewhere and never come out. It was bad enough that she had been so involved in Dante’s kiss that she hadn’t heard the door, but he was her patient. Dante Sinclair had injuries that would have left any other man in bed crying for his mommy, even if he was taking something for pain. Yet she’d practically been mauling him and begging for more. “I’m sorry,” she said, mortified. “He does need to be home in bed.”
Jared lifted an eyebrow playfully.
“Alone,” she added hurriedly. “Sleeping.”
“Don’t apologize to him,” Dante told her in an irritated voice. “He just walked right into your house.”
Jared smirked. “Didn’t you hear me knock? You’re the cop.”
“I heard you. I just hoped you had enough sense to go away. Obviously I was wrong.” Dante glared at his brother.
Sarah watched the two men, one irritated and the other looking highly amused. She’d never met Jared Sinclair, but he was another powerful and attractive man, just like his brothers. He and Dante shared some of the same physical features, but where Dante was a bit raw, this man was . . . polished. Jared’s hair was more auburn than dark brown. Longer than Dante’s, it was cut in a manner that looked professional, but she could see a few curls in the sleek style. Jared’s eyes were almost a jade green, and the lashes surrounding those startling eyes were so thick that any woman would envy them. Maybe an inch or so shorter than Dante, Jared had the same muscular build as his brother’s, covered by casual slacks, a collared button-down shirt that was probably silk, and what looked like very expensive leather casual shoes.
“Take Dante home, Mr. Sinclair. Give him his meds and don’t let him leave the house for a week. He really should be resting so that he can heal faster. If anything hurts at all, he shouldn’t be doing it,” Sarah instructed almost breathlessly, ashamed that she’d let herself get so carried away.
“Call me Jared, please,” the man insisted as he shot her a playful grin. “And I’m sorry I came in. I was getting worried. I waited in the car, but it’s way past the time that Dante and I agreed on. I knew he shouldn’t be out for long.”
“I understand,” Sarah assured him hurriedly. “I should have taken him home as soon as he got here. Can you keep him at home for a while? It will help him heal up faster.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Both men answered at the same time, Jared in the affirmative and Dante with a negative. She couldn’t help but smile.
Jared opened the door and stepped through. “Let’s go, Princess,” he told Dante mockingly. “This is probably the one time in our entire lives that I can actually kick your ass. I’m taking advantage of it.”
“Only in your dreams, little brother.” Dante stressed the word “little” antagonistically as he glared at Jared’s back, but he headed for the door. Before he followed Jared, he stopped and silently looked down at her.
Sarah’s heart accelerated as he whispered in a husky voice, “We’ll finish this later. And don’t apologize for what happened. It didn’t hurt a bit.”
“It shouldn’t have happened,” she whispered back anxiously. “I’m your physician.” Her ethics were screaming at her now.
“It did happen, and it will happen again. Count on it,” Dante warned her ominously as he kissed her on the forehead and followed his brother. “Get off those feet,” he called back over his shoulder as he slowly followed his brother out to the car.
Sarah closed the door and leaned back against it, wondering what the hell had just happened.
She tried for the rest of the evening to figure out the logic for her brief interlude with Dante Sinclair, and she failed miserably, thinking maybe she needed to research all the recent data on sexual chemistry.
CHAPTER 5
One week later, Dante was restless and irritated as hell. True to his word, his brother Jared—with Grady sometimes filling in as his jailer—kept him confined to the house. He’d only seen Sarah for very brief visits, and he could tell she felt awkward. She was professional and matter-of-fact, and Dante hated it. He was desperate for another taste of the warm, passionate woman he’d discovered at her house last week.
No such thing as sexual chemistry, my ass. We were both about to go up in flames, and I wasn’t even fucking her.