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much?”
The softly spoken question caught Beth off guard. Was it too much? Too soon? She glanced around again with a more discerning eye—soft music, low lighting, private tables—the perfect setting for romance, for seduction. Her earlier admission of having missed sex notwithstanding, Beth was feeling a bit overwhelmed. But when she looked back at Gabe, into his warm, brown eyes, the uncertainty threatening to ruin her evening slipped away. She wanted this, wanted to see where this evening would lead.
With Gabe.
Her resolve in place, Beth smiled and said, “No, not at all. I was thinking…intimate.”
Gabe reached across the table and plucked at her fingers until they loosened and then wrapped his around them. “And how do you feel about that?”
And wasn’t that the question of the evening? Her gaze drifted over his broad shoulders, the muscles that strained and flexed under the soft fabric of his shirt. “I feel good about it. Very good.”
The rough pad of Gabe’s thumb swiped over her knuckles. His features hardened. The muscles in his throat flexed with a swallow. “Me, too.”
A waiter arrived with their drinks and then moved on to another table. Gabe lifted his and drank deeply.
Beth swirled the pale gold wine in her glass and took a sip. Closing her eyes, she welcomed the bite of alcohol as the cold liquid slid down her throat and felt Gabe’s fingers tighten around hers. Her lashes flew up. He was staring at her mouth with a hunger that took her breath away. A delicious shudder of warmth formed in the pit of Beth’s stomach. She was shocked at the impact of Gabe’s gentle grip, the heated look in his eyes—he made no effort to hide his attraction to her.
His touch upset her balance, made it difficult to form a coherent thought when all she wanted was to lean across the table and feel his mouth on hers again. What she was feeling had nothing to do with reason and everything to do with desire—desire for a man she barely knew. She needed some distance, time to gather her reawakened senses and put them into perspective.
Setting her drink aside, Beth cleared her throat and, with a gentle tug, pulled her hand from the warmth of his. “What made you decide to go into medicine?”
As though coming out of a trance, Gabe shook his head. His chest rose and fell as he settled back in his seat. “I got hooked in high school when we participated in a community disaster drill—F5 tornado. I was Patient Number Twelve— head trauma with an open fracture of the right arm and leg.”
“Great injuries.”
He grinned. “Yeah, bloody, too. The art and drama clubs did an awesome job with the makeup and props.”
“Aside from the gruesome injuries, what impressed you so much that you wanted to become a doctor?”
He looked past her shoulder, as if visualizing the scene all over again. “Everything. I was a senior, so as soon as I hit the halfway mark to eighteen, I enrolled in EMT classes, and then worked Fire and Rescue through college.” He took a drink of his liquor and studied her over the rim of the glass before placing it back on the table. “What about you? What drew you in?”
“Wait.” Leaning forward, Beth grinned. “You were a fireman?”
“Yeah.”
“So”—her brows lifted speculatively—“Did you pose for any of those sexy eye candy fireman photos?”
A red stain crept up his neck.
“You did!”
“Yeah, okay, I did.” He shifted, rested his forearm on the table, charmingly embarrassed by the admission. “But only once, and it was for a fundraiser.”
“Calendar?”
He nodded.
“What month?”
“December. And yes, I wore a Santa hat.”
“And a wreath?”
“Yep.”
Her brows lifted.
“Around my neck. You have a dirty mind, Ms. Roberts.” The gleam in his eyes said he approved. “Back to my question. What drew you to nursing?”
“Nothing as dramatic as you, I’m afraid.”
“Ever pose for a ‘naughty nurse’ photo?”
A laugh slipped out.