A Carolina Valentine Read online

  “It’s going to be a wonderful weekend.” Paul couldn’t resist dropping a kiss on the top of Aimee’s head. She smelled of lemons and cinnamon, an unexpected combination that seemed to wind around his senses.

  “Yeah,” Peter agreed with a nod. “I’ll let you two get checked in and settled. I managed to have your room upgraded to a suite, bro. Wicked good view of the pool.”

  “Two rooms,” Paul corrected, and felt Aimee stiffen next to him. “You got my text, right? I’ve been having trouble sleeping and hate keeping Aimee awake so—”

  “Sorry.” Peter glanced between the two of them, confusion clouding his features. Paul understood that two rooms had been a strange request, but he thought he’d given his brother a convincing rationale for it. “The hotel is completely booked. A sitting room with a couch was the best I could do.”

  Tension knotted Paul’s stomach at the thought of sharing a room with the woman who consumed his thoughts, even for one night.

  “It’s fine.” Aimee nestled closer again. Damn, she should have been an actress. “I’m used to him by now.”

  Peter reached out and gave her a quick hug. “I like you, mystery woman. I can already tell you’re good for my brother.”

  Paul couldn’t hear Aimee’s response from the rush of blood to his head. Hell, yes, she was good for him. Even as a fake girlfriend. He just hated the fact that he wished it could be real.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  AIMEE SIPPED HER champagne as she looked around the elegant ballroom later that night. Her stomach was in knots and her jaw hurt from smiling for so long.

  Not that the wedding ceremony and reception hadn’t been everything she’d expected. Other than Paul’s snarky ex, everyone in the family was lovely, even his rather gruff father. As she’d imagined from Paul’s description, Grace, his new sister-in-law, welcomed her with enthusiasm, making Aimee feel as though their celebration wouldn’t have been complete without her presence at Paul’s side.

  Gretchen, Paul’s older sister, was serious and intense but also wickedly funny with her running commentary about how each person in attendance was part of the dysfunctional family dynamic. She had a quiet husband, Max, who clearly adored her, and two well-behaved elementary-school-age children.

  Aimee loved weddings, and the personal touches Grace and Peter had added to their vows had her dabbing at the corners of her eyes. For all her talk to Avery about not caring about Valentine’s Day, she couldn’t help but be touched by the obvious love between the bride and groom. Several times during the short ceremony, her gaze had snagged Paul’s, and the intensity in his hazel eyes made her breath catch.

  Part of her wished they were still in the car, which had felt like their own private sanctuary. She’d loved getting to know him, his sense of humor and inherent kindness confirming her good taste in being intrigued by him from the start. She actually hadn’t seen much of him since they’d first gone to their room. It had been obvious that he didn’t like the thought of sharing a room with her for the night. She hadn’t even thought to ask about separate accommodations, but of course he had.

  She told herself he was being a gentleman. This was a business arrangement of a sort, and she’d never been the kind of woman to indulge in meaningless intimacy anyway. Especially not with a coworker.

  She sighed and smiled at the waiter, who handed her a fresh glass of champagne. Who was she kidding? She had no desire for a fling with Dr. Paul Thorpe because she liked him. More than the general crush that most of the female hospital staff had on him. Yes, he was good-looking but now that she’d seen behind the curtain of his formal physician facade, she liked him even more.

  It was going to be horrible if Megan indeed won him in the bachelor auction. The last thing Aimee wanted to do was hear about her roommate going on a date with Paul. Even worse, what if he spent the night at their small house or he and Megan actually got serious? Would Aimee have to move out just to save herself the reminder of what she’d never have?

  “Is it as awful as all that?”

  She blinked as Paul lowered himself to the empty chair next to her. He’d been seated at the head table with the rest of the bridal party. Aimee had enjoyed the group she’d ended up with for dinner, consisting mostly of Peter and Grace’s college friends.

  “It was a lovely ceremony,” she said, and took another drink of champagne. The bubbles tickled her throat. Was this glass number three or four? She’d lost count, although the fizziness in her head told her it should be her last. “What could be more hopeful than a wedding on Valentine’s Day?”

  “My brother has always been an idealist,” Paul said with a half smile. “It makes him a great politician. I have no doubt he’ll be a devoted husband, as well.”

  “I hope so,” she whispered, resenting the emotion that clogged her throat. She thought her divorce had made her a cynic when it came to love, but she’d been holding back tears most of the night.

  “You don’t look like you’re having fun,” he said. He reached out and traced a finger along the top of her hand. She felt the featherlight touch all the way to her toes. “Would you like to dance?”

  The music had just changed from an up-tempo tune to a slow ballad. It would be smart to decline the invitation. She felt fragile at the moment, like her defenses were made of nothing more than tissue paper.

  “Yes, I would.”

  He offered his hand and a megawatt smile that did all kinds of crazy things to her insides. Then she was in his arms and the feel of it was everything she could have imagined and more.

  She hadn’t dated since her divorce, hadn’t been with a man since her ex-husband. By the end of their marriage, intimacy had been so fraught with tension and the pressure to conceive, there’d been no real pleasure in the act.

  One simple dance shouldn’t affect her this way. But she knew it was more than the dance. It was the man holding her, his body rock-hard under the tux he wore, yet also comforting, like a favorite pillow she wanted to snuggle closer to. He smelled of soap and spice, and it was all she could do not to press her nose to the base of his neck and inhale.

  Neither of them spoke as they swayed in a gentle rhythm to the song, and Aimee wondered if Paul could feel the current of attraction that threaded between them. As if he’d read her mind, his hand squeezed her hip. Her knees went weak with longing.

  She wasn’t the one-night stand type, but maybe she could make an exception. Just this once.

  The thought and all the potential land mines that went with it had her stepping away from him as soon as the music ended. The DJ announced that it was time for the bouquet toss, and through her muddled mind, Aimee registered the single women making their way onto the dance floor.

  Paul gave her a curious look and then laced his fingers with hers. “Let’s get out of here,” he said, and she nodded, unable to put words to the gratitude rushing through her.

  His ex-fiancée—now stepmother—shot her a glare as they passed, and his sister smiled. “You’re going the wrong way,” Gretchen called, but Paul either didn’t hear her or chose to ignore the gentle admonishment.

  Aimee just wanted to get away from the reception. She needed to catch her breath, to set her tumbling thoughts to rights. To get a damn hold of herself.

  Paul led her out of the ballroom and across the lobby. He jabbed the elevator button, then breathed out a ragged puff of air when a chime immediately dinged. The doors swished open and he pulled her in. As the doors closed, he went to hit the button for their floor, paused and pressed the stop lever instead.

  Then he turned, pulled her closer and kissed her, his mouth hot and demanding as he coaxed apart her lips. She met his need with hers, giving herself over to the moment. She groaned when the tip of his tongue touched hers. He spread his hands around her waist, and his thumbs grazed the soft flesh of her breasts through her thin dress. His touch practically set her body on fire. She leane
d into him, winding her arms around his neck. He lifted his mouth from hers and kissed a trail along her jaw and neck, goose bumps erupting in his wake.

  “You’re even softer than I imagined,” he said against her skin. “So damn beautiful.”

  Aimee sucked in a breath. She felt beautiful at this moment, pliant with desire. She’d spent so long thinking of herself as broken after her divorce, and even with desire stealing her thoughts, she still managed to recognize that this moment and this man were a revelation.

  He knew the worst thing about her and wanted her anyway. Before she could truly process the ramifications of what it might mean, all of her doubts came crashing in around her. He wanted her physically. It couldn’t be anything more. He’d told her he wanted a family. She couldn’t give him that.

  Yes, she could take the pleasure he was willing to offer—almost believed it would be worth it. The sharp ache that sliced across her chest told a different story. She cared about Paul. More than was smart for either of them.

  Deep inside she knew she wouldn’t be satisfied with a fling. Despite understanding that she could never be a long-term possibility for a man like him, that was exactly what she wanted.

  And exactly why she’d kept herself cut off from relationships.

  She wanted too damn much.

  He pulled back and cupped her face in his hands. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his gaze intense on hers. “I had no right to—”

  “We got caught up in the moment,” she told him, and stepped away, pressing herself to the corner of the elevator. “But it can’t go any further, Paul. I’m not...” Her voice trailed off.

  “I know.” He reached out for the elevator’s keypad, and less than a minute later the doors opened to their floor.

  He followed her into the empty hall. It made no sense how much she missed holding his hand. She’d known what this date was when they’d made their agreement. Stupid to want something more.

  And now she had to share a hotel room with him. Oh, lord. Could it get any worse?

  He placed his room key in front of the sensor and opened the door for her.

  “Aimee.”

  She turned. He still stood at the threshold.

  “I’m going to head back down for a little while. I need...some space.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, biting down on her bottom lip. “I’m sorry I wasn’t more fun as a date.” She tried for a smile, but her facial muscles refused to cooperate.

  “You’re perfect,” he said, his expression unreadable, then disappeared into the hall.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “THANK YOU AGAIN,” Paul said, clearing his throat when the words came out harsher than he’d intended.

  He’d just pulled to a stop next to Aimee’s car in the hospital parking lot. The hour drive from the resort had seemed to stretch on for days, mainly because he’d spent the whole time wanting to touch her and knowing he had no right.

  What in the hell had made him think that taking the woman he’d had a crush on for the better part of the past year would be a good idea?

  It wasn’t just that he’d invited her as his date. He’d bribed her into going with him, not an auspicious start to any potential relationship. Not that she’d given him any indication she wanted more from him than his help with the bachelor auction next weekend.

  He didn’t even know her ex-husband’s name but could easily envision himself planting a fist in the guy’s face. Paul couldn’t imagine hurting Aimee in the way her ex obviously had. Sure, he saw himself with a family someday, even though Kim’s betrayal left him with the sense he couldn’t trust women or his own judgment about them. But if he had a woman like Aimee in his life, nothing could force him to give her up and especially not the inability to conceive when there were so many kids in the world who needed a good home. She’d be a fantastic mother. Based on her dedication to patients, he could clearly see that she had so much love to give.

  It killed him to know she didn’t believe that about herself.

  “You have a great family,” she said with a forced smile. “All except for Kim, anyway.”

  He laughed. “It’s hard for me to believe I ever saw a future with her. She seems to make my dad happy, though. I guess I can be happy for the two of them.”

  “That’s very mature,” she murmured.

  “I don’t plan on buying her a Mother’s Day gift anytime soon,” he clarified, and felt a strange sense of relief when Aimee’s smile relaxed.

  “Awkward.”

  “Yeah.”

  She placed a hand on his arm. “I’m glad I went with you to the wedding.”

  “Me, too.” He covered her hand with his, grateful for an excuse to touch her, even if it was just for a few short moments. “You made everything better.”

  She shook her head. “I doubt that. You would have been fine no matter what. It’s obvious you and your siblings are close, even if it hasn’t felt that way.”

  “We are. I appreciate you giving up your Saturday for me. I promise I’ll live up to my end of the bargain.”

  As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he regretted them. He didn’t want to think about the hospital fundraiser or being auctioned off for a date with another woman. Yes, he and Aimee had an arrangement, but it was so much more than that. He wanted a chance with her—a real chance. Not just something she’d agreed to because she needed his help.

  Walking away from her last night had been one of the hardest things he’d done. She’d looked so damn irresistible, standing in the doorway of the quiet hotel room, cheeks flushed and her mouth swollen from his kisses. He knew it had been the right thing to do. He’d returned to the reception, hanging out with a few of his brother’s single friends. Then he’d crashed on the couch in his high school friend’s room until morning. One-night stands didn’t interest him in general, and he had a feeling that if he took Aimee to his bed, he might not have the strength to let her go. She’d been showered and dressed by the time he returned to the room and had left almost as soon as he walked in, retreating to the lobby until he’d found her at the family brunch his sister arranged.

  Although she’d publicly played the role of his doting girlfriend, she’d made it clear she had no interest in a relationship. And he wasn’t sure he was ready to open his heart to a woman he knew had the potential to break it. He’d spent a long time patching himself back together after Kim’s betrayal. He couldn’t imagine risking that kind of pain again.

  As he watched Aimee’s blue eyes cloud over, he regretted letting the moment slip away.

  Her gaze cleared, and it was as if he could see her mentally rebuilding the walls that kept people at arm’s length. She withdrew her hand and pointed a finger at him. “I expect to see lots of charm out of you this week.” She laughed, and he wondered if he imagined how hollow it sounded. “Just remember it’s for a good cause.”

  “Right,” he agreed. They exited the car, and he retrieved her suitcase from his trunk and transferred it to hers. What was the correct protocol for saying goodbye to your fake-for-one-night girlfriend?

  “I’ll see you around,” she said, gesturing toward the hospital’s brick facade.

  “Maybe we could grab dinner sometime,” he blurted. “After the fundraiser when you’re not so busy or—”

  “Maybe.” Her mouth thinned. Paul could tell she had no intention of seeing him again, but somehow he couldn’t give up.

  So much for not being willing to risk his heart.

  “I like you, Aimee,” he said quietly, and stopped trying to shutter the emotions from his gaze. “I want to see you again. Not just at work. I want to—”

  She shook her head. “That’s not...I’m not...” Her gaze dropped to the ground in front of her. “I’ve explained how things are with me, Paul. I’m not a good candidate for...anything.”

  “I want to try. I really like you,” he r
epeated, unsure of what else to say. “I think you like me, too.”

  She closed her eyes like she couldn’t bear to look at him.

  “Nothing else matters,” he told her, and lifted a hand, wanting to pull her to him.

  She stepped back and opened the door to her car. “It matters to me,” she whispered, and climbed in.

  He watched her drive away, wondering how one night managed to change everything for him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “OH, DON’T YOU look lovely.” Avery made a small circle with one finger. “Give me a spin.”

  Aimee laughed and then did the requisite turn in the shimmery cocktail dress she’d bought for the fundraiser. “I’m feeling a bit like a princess.” She smoothed a hand over the front of the red-lace overlay. “I even shaved my legs.”

  Avery shifted the candle centerpiece on one of the round tables that filled the banquet room where they were hosting the event. “You must be planning to bid on one of the bachelors,” she said with a wink.

  “No.” Aimee worked to keep the smile fixed on her face even as a sharp ache sliced across her chest. In the past week she’d gotten used to smiling through her pain. Each time she saw Paul at the hospital, leaning over the nurses’ station in the ER with a gaggle of swooning women surrounding him, the ache was fresh again, like ripping a bandage off a wound that hadn’t quite healed. It was exactly what she’d asked him to do, yet it was still difficult to watch. “But I’m counting on raising buckets of money for the mobile clinic.”

  “We will.” Avery took a step closer to her, tucking a strand of blond hair behind one ear. “Are you okay? You kind of look like a princess who’s been punched in the gut.”

  “Then I need to fix my face before the event starts,” Aimee answered, scrunching up her nose. She checked the time on her phone and sucked in a breath. There was a notification of a message from Paul. She glanced up at Avery. “I’m fine. Promise.”