Georgie's Heart by Kathryn Brocato

He smiled the smile of a dark angel who offered temptation in a most enticing package.
    Georgeanne stared into his eyes, mesmerized. “I could try.”
    â€œI have a feeling you’re the cure to any problem I’ve got.” Zane slipped his arms around her waist. “Georgie, you’re so beautiful.”
    Georgeanne started to deny any claim to beauty, but Zane’s mouth covered hers before she could speak. She forgot her beauty, or lack thereof, in testing the warm silky texture of his hair and the hard feel of the muscles in his neck.
    Zane’s tongue stroked hers, encouraging her to explore his mouth the way he explored hers, and his big hands molded her against his body. She felt his desire for her and trembled. The amazing thing was, she liked knowing he wanted her, and she wanted to satisfy that desire.
    Georgeanne broke away from the spell cast by his mouth, blinking with dismay. She’d never wanted to satisfy a man’s desire before. She had feared that desire, because she knew she lacked what it took to satisfy it.
    â€œWhat’s wrong, Georgie?” Zane touched her face gently. “Am I scaring you?”
    Georgeanne looked away. “Nothing is wrong, Zane. It’s just that I — that I — I guess it’s been a long time since I’ve been kissed. I don’t quite know how to behave.”
    â€œYou’re doing beautifully, Georgie. You’re perfect.” Zane proved it with another gentle kiss. “This is between us. You and me. No ghosts, and no regrets. Okay?”
    She swallowed, breathing hard. “Okay.”
    His words registered at last. Zane thought her hesitation lay in memories of her marriage. In a way it did, but not the way he thought. She would have groaned aloud if his mouth hadn’t covered hers in another tender kiss.
    â€œNow get home and get to bed, or the doctor will have to write you out a stronger prescription.”
    Georgeanne had done as he instructed, largely because she was too bemused to do anything else. Zane was used to giving orders and having them obeyed. The problem was, Georgeanne liked obeying orders from him a lot more than she should, especially when she knew she would see him again on Sunday.
    *
    Georgeanne glanced around, well pleased, at the Sunday afternoon activities. While the other volunteers finished painting the inside of the clinic, Zane had brought a stack of ropes and saws and worked steadily at removing the crop of fast-growing tallow trees that had sprung up around the building and encroached on the edges of the small shell-covered parking lot.
    Georgeanne joined him outside, where she scraped and painted the woodwork around the windows. The beautiful late spring weather held, and the sun shone brightly, bringing out the bright green of the tree leaves surrounding them.
    Georgeanne enjoyed watching Zane silhouetted against the sky as he stood on the clinic’s flat roof and worked an electric power saw. He removed limb after limb from the trees that grew beside the roof, then began work on one big limb that stretched across the roof.
    Georgeanne tried not to stare at him. He wore a blue T-shirt that accentuated the powerful muscles of his shoulders and arms and made his smoky eyes look blue. The rippling motion of those muscles as he worked the saw and the ropes fascinated Georgeanne. She forced herself to concentrate on her paintbrush.
    â€œWould you mind calling one of the men out to help me with this, Georgie,” Zane called.
    Georgeanne glanced up. He had hooked a complicated series of ropes to the limb and was prepared to saw it through. “What do you need?”
    â€œI need a man to pull this rope to swing the limb away from the roof when it starts to fall. Not you, Georgie.”
    â€œBe reasonable, Zane. I’m taller than both the men present, and probably stronger. Throw me that rope.”
    Zane scowled down at her. “I will not. Call Dr. Baghri or Dr.