Always Look Twice by Geralyn Dawson

stepped all the way into the bathroom, awareness thickened the air like steam from a hot shower. ‘‘Put down the washrag, Callahan.’’
    He dropped it onto the counter and worked not to reach for her. Focused on the slice in his skin, Annabelle didn’t notice. ‘‘The cut is longer than I realized,’’ she said. ‘‘He got you during a spin, didn’t he?’’
    ‘‘Yeah.’’
    She set her kit on the counter, then removed a two-inch square pack. She tore it open and unfolded an alcohol wipe. ‘‘Lift your arm.’’
    Her instruction didn’t register with Mark because she’d moved close to him, which allowed him to see down the gaping neckline of the basketball jersey. The sight of those full magnificent breasts sent his blood rushing south. That’s what I needed to stop the cut from bleeding.
    He hissed when she slapped the wipe against the wound with an ungentle hand. ‘‘Stop it, you perv.’’
    Not even the bite of alcohol on an open wound was enough to distract him from those perky, coral-tipped globes just made for his mouth. Nothing perverted about it. He was a man. She was a woman. They were in a hotel room. . . .
    ‘‘Callahan!’’ she warned, slapping her hand against the neckline and interrupting his visual feast.
    He dragged his gaze away from her, grabbed hold of the granite counter’s rim, and stared into the mirror.
    And remembered making love to her in front of a mirror in a hotel in Hong Kong.
    Shit. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea at all. He clenched his jaw and closed his eyes, but immediately opened them again, looking for a distraction from the memory played in living color across his brain. ‘‘You sleeping with college boys now, Annabelle?’’
    Her incredulous gaze flicked up to meet his in the mirror. ‘‘What?’’
    ‘‘Where did you get the jersey?’’
    Her hand stilled. The alcohol stung. ‘‘Nick Koldus played at Kansas.’’
    She’s with a pro basketball player now? ‘‘He’s with Seattle.’’
    A devilish smile played about her lips. ‘‘He has good hands.’’
    Witch.
    She finally decided she’d tortured him enough with alcohol and brought out the antibiotic cream. The first soft brush of her hand against his skin both soothed him and stirred him. This had been a dumb idea.
    He sucked in a breath and smelled . . . Annabelle. While he always used whatever shampoo the hotel provided, Annabelle brought her own along with a lotion of the same tropical scent. It was subtle, yet earthy. Exotic. Erotic. Annabelle.
    This had been a spectacularly dumb idea. He should have slapped a bandage or five on the cut and gone to bed.
    The bathroom seemed to shrink to the size of a closet. He closed his eyes and forced himself to think about other things. He mentally made a shopping list for the Seattle condo. Debated the breed of dog he’d get when his lifestyle would allow one. Considered what to get Luke and Maddie’s twins for their next birthday.
    He heard the rip and tear of paper and opened his eyes. ‘‘Gauze? Can’t you just use the butterflies?’’
    ‘‘I know you consider a Z-Pak and butterfly bandages as your medical cure-alls, but this cut requires something more. Turn around, Callahan, so I can reach.’’
    He hesitated, knowing he couldn’t hide the tent in his towel if he did as she asked. Then their gazes met in the mirror and he saw the knowing in the warm brown depths of her eyes.
    He saw knowing and a vulnerability he’d never seen in her before.
    She licked her lips and said, ‘‘Let’s just get this over with, please?’’
    Mark turned. She stood mere inches away, so close he could feel the heat radiating from her body. Unable to stop himself, he lifted a hand and brushed back the silky fire of her hair, tucking it back behind her ear so that he could see her face. He skimmed his fingers down the softness of her cheek and spoke a hollow truth that went beyond the moment. ‘‘I don’t want it to be over,