Then Spence was there again, his hand on the back of her chair, a smile also on his face. “Ladies first,” he whispered seductively against her ear, the warmth of his breath making her heart flutter. Ted didn’t seem to notice, the clod.
“Thanks,” she murmured as she took her seat and picked up her napkin. When Spence sat on her other side, she knew tonight was going to challenge her self-control.
“Oh! If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be right back.” Ted jumped up and rushed over to a couple who’d just entered the room.
Sage watched as he laughed at something the man said, and then the two of them walked over to the liquor bar, leaving the woman the other man had entered with standing alone. She didn’t seem upset—she was obviously used to being abandoned like that.
“It looks like your date has other things on his mind,” Spence said, leaning in too close for her comfort.
“This is a social event. It’s perfectly fine to be socializing.”
“It wouldn’t matter if the building started falling down around us—I still wouldn’t leave your side,” Spence said softly, his deep drawl giving her goose bumps.
“Well, then, you must not be that social—or you just don’t have any friends.” She knew she was being a bit catty, but she refused to feel bad about it.
“I just know when I have a good thing. And I don’t let it go.”
“Is that a warning, Spence?”
“It’s a promise, Sage.”
“Oh no. Will the hackneyed lines never end?”
“Sorry, doll, but it happens to be the truth. I’ve decided I like you, and instead of just flirting and cornering you in exam rooms, I’m going to say what I think and feel. I want you—and not just for one night.”
The sparkle in his eyes told her he was truly enjoying himself. The leap in her libido told her she was in deep trouble.
“And the past few weeks—what was that?” As he hadn’t once been holding back from her, she couldn’t imagine what he had planned with this new challenge.
“That was simply a warm-up. Now, I’m going to officially court you.”
She gazed at him a moment before shaking her head. “Court me? Really? Isn’t that what people do when they’re planning an arranged marriage?”
“The definition of courting is to run after, pursue, chase . . .” There was a determination about him that she was enjoying, though she tried to tamp down the feeling.
“You’ve got your etymology completely wrong, by the way—rather shocking for a doctor. The root in court has nothing to do with the cur root meaning ‘to run.’ Cur . . . how appropriate.”
“Details, details,” he said loftily.
“In any case, Dr. Whitman, you’re leaving out one important fact about the verb.”
“I think I covered it all.”
“To court is generally taken to refer to being involved with someone romantically with the intention of marrying them.” That would scare him away!
“Hmm . . .” There was a pause as he leaned closer. “I think I like that definition best.”
He held her gaze without blinking, making a shudder travel through her. But she finally turned her head, lifted her wineglass, and took a generous sip. No, not eighty proof, so she’d have to improvise.
“I’m on a date. This is highly inappropriate,” she finally said when the silence was too much to bear.
“I don’t see your date. That makes you fair game.”
He seemed to have an answer for everything. “Did you just say that pursuing me is nothing more than a game?” If she could somehow twist his words, maybe she’d get out of this unscorched.
“You can call it whatever you want, but I want you, Sage. I want to take you on dates, spend time with you, learn about you, and . . . kiss you. I want to strip off your clothes, run my lips over every inch of your body, and sink deep inside you while you’re calling out my name.” He ended in a whisper, and she shivered in response.
“It’s not polite to be chatting over there and ignoring the rest of us,” Ted said.
Sage lifted her gaze, seeing that the entire table was now full, including her absentee date—and all eyes were on her. She wanted to reply that it also wasn’t polite for him to run off, but she kept her mouth closed.
Was her skin flushed? It had to be flushed. Was it obvious what Spence had just been saying to her? For the life of her, she couldn’t get words to emerge from her tight throat. This man was turning her inside out, and in front of everyone they worked with, too.
“You are absolutely right. We were just discussing work. Anyone have strong opinions about the new oral anticoagulants?” Spence asked.
She was grateful, though she knew the medical joke was at her expense, a sidelong reference to the way words were stuck in her mouth. She could now take a much-needed breath.
“That’s my boy, always teaching. I’m sure Sage has a lot of stories to tell from her first few months of residency,” Martin said, and he turned his full attention to her.
Sage was relieved by the change of subject. It allowed her to talk of what she knew, what she was confident about. Before long, the entire table was engaged in the conversation. Stories of humorous medical mishaps flew about, laughter spilled out, and way too much wine and eggnog was consumed. The evening had certainly turned around.
When it came time to dance, her date showed once again why he was still single. He stepped on her toes, scuffing her new pair of heels, and, while demonstrating to the world at large that “I Got Rhythm” hadn’t been written for him, was boring her to tears with his endless chatter. She wished he’d stayed true to type and had run off with his drinking buddy again.