Free Flirting with the Society Doctor by Janice Lynn

would change everything between them. Bok. Bok.
    Only sometimes change was inevitable, and inevitably her relationship with Vale had undergone a change she couldn’t undo even if she wanted to.
    Taking that chance would strip her soul bare, would let him see into her heart, and therein lay the problem.
    She didn’t want to give Vale that power over her future. Didn’t want to become her mother, settling for whoever came along because she’d tasted love and couldn’t hold on to it, forever searching to feed a hunger that couldn’t be satisfied.
    No, she didn’t love Vale and would never, ever allow herself to be that foolish.

CHAPTER FIVE
    F AITH tossed and turned in the enormous bed in the giant bedroom their suitcases had been placed in. How could she sleep when eventually Vale would return? Would be sleeping in the same room? Possibly crawl between the sheets beside her if she didn’t stay awake and order him to the sofa?
    Although his family had been nothing but kind to her, she’d had a difficult time relaxing. How could she fit in when their conversation ran from spending the month in Europe at their favorite French resort to having their thighs liposuctioned in Beverly Hills?
    Which should only serve as yet another reminder of why she shouldn’t become involved with Vale this weekend. Despite how dedicated he was to his career, to finding a treatment or, better yet, a cure for Parkinson’s, the reality was he moved in a different world from that she did.
    A jiggle of the doorhandle had her breath catching. Vale.
    Peeking through barely open eyes, she took in the outline of his sleek body in the doorframe. So beautiful. So tempting.
    Softly, he closed the door, walked over to the sofa and sank down onto the leather. She could feel his gaze onher, could feel his presence so overwhelmingly that she swore the room pulsed with him. His scent. His aura. His heartbeat.
    Forcing her breathing to remain even, she closed her eyes completely, feigning sleep. She couldn’t deal with him. Not tonight. Not if she didn’t want to do something she might regret.
    Might, because she wasn’t sure.
    Perhaps not doing something would be more regrettable than taking action?
    She just didn’t know, didn’t have the experience to know, and for that reason she’d pretend to be asleep to avoid having to act.
    â€œFaith?” he whispered, almost as if he knew she was faking.
    She didn’t answer and after a few moments he sighed, but didn’t call her bluff.
    Instead, he disappeared into the en suite bathroom, returned, and slid between the sheets. Next to her.
    Would it give away that she was awake if she piled pillows between them? Or if she peeked under the covers to see what he was wearing? Or not wearing?
    She swallowed, fighting to breathe, fighting to keep her eyes closed in case he was looking at her and could see her through the sliver of moonlight breaking the darkness, fighting to keep from scooting next to him, spooning her body to his.
    Because, really, if she did that while still feigning sleep, what would it hurt? She could always plead that she’d gotten cold. Which didn’t explain the droplets of sweat forming between her breasts.
    She bit the inside of her lower lip, forced herself to count sheep, to count the soft sounds of Vale’s even breathing. That he’d crawled into bed and fallenimmediately to sleep didn’t say much about her effect on him, did it? He was in bed with her for the first time ever and had immediately dozed off.
    The last time she recalled taking a peek at him soft streaks of sunrise had started filtering into the room. His dark head lay against the pillow, his lashes fanned out across his cheeks, his face relaxed in sleep.
    Unable to resist, she reached out, brushed her fingertip across his cheek, marveling at the smooth perfection of his skin, at how her heart raced at the contact.
    Without his expression