balance and fell. My towel got hung up in the tree, and I landed on your terrace sans coverage. I swear, I never intended to moon you.”

She eyed the stranger critically and tried to decide if he was telling the truth or not.

“Go ahead, check the tree for my towel if you don’t believe me.”

She shook her head. “I don’t have time. I’m going to be late for work. Just go to your own place. You can return my bathrobe later and please throw that charcoal sack away.”

“Okay. Thanks again.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I’m sorry to have intruded.”

“We’ll forget this minor incident ever happened.” Janet ushered him toward the door, her heart thudding strangely. “You keep quiet and so will I.”

“Nice meeting you,” he said after stepping into the hallway. “Maybe I’ll see you around sometime.”

I hope not.

“Bye.” She closed the door in his face, vowing to avoid her new neighbor at all costs.

Feeling like forty shades of fool dressed in a woman’s purple terry cloth bathrobe, Gage Gregory slunk up the back stairwell to his condo.

So much for keeping a low profile. He had moved to Houston to escape the limelight, not to end up on his exceptionally lovely neighbor’s backyard terrace in his birthday suit.

Lunkhead.

He raised a hand to push his fingers through his hair and caught a whiff of her scent from the robe. A piquant blend of oriental spices enveloped him.

And intrigued him.

The woman was fascinating. A frank-talking, raven-haired beauty with patrician features and a challenging look-but-don’t-dare-touch aura. When they had been eye to eye, he’d had the strongest urge to reach out a hand and trace her full lips and see if they felt as soft as they looked.

Just his luck. He’d met the sexiest woman he had come across in months while in the throes of a very embarrassing situation. It was unlikely she would even speak to him again. And he couldn’t blame her.

Thank God, she was the sensible sort and hadn’t called the police. Gage cringed at the thought. The tabloids would have had a field day with that tidbit.

If a regular Joe Schmoe had saved Senator McConelly’s son from drowning on that California beach five weeks ago, it wouldn’t have caused more than a minor ripple of media attention. But let a former child actor turned plastic surgeon to Hollywood’s elite turned Houston pediatrician do something altruistic and the paparazzi couldn’t shut up about it.

He shuddered to think of the headlines if they got wind of this incident. Hunkiest Bachelor Alive Caught with His Pants Down In Texas or Child Star Gage Gregory Starts New Career On A Low Note or Has Hollywood’s Favorite Doctor Hero Gone Nudist?

He’d dodged a bullet with this one. He’d come to Houston for a clean break, a fresh start. The fewer people here who knew of his celebrity, the better. He wanted nothing more than a normal life—a thriving medical practice, a loving wife, healthy kids, a house with a white picket fence, a dog in the yard, vacations twice a year ... yada, yada, yada.

“No more sticking your nose in where it doesn’t belong, Gregory, you got that?” he muttered. “No more damsels in distress. No more diving in without testing the waters.”

And no more turning up on his sumptuous neighbor’s terrace. In fact, if he was smart, he would avoid his gorgeous neighbor altogether. Why that last thought should bother him, Gage had no idea.

But it did.

On the drive to work, Janet couldn’t stop thinking about the stranger. He hadn’t told her his name, she realized, and she still harbored niggling doubts about the veracity of his story. Although the minute he’d left her condo, she had checked the tree and seen a Batman beach towel flapping from the branches, confirming his claim.

Face it, she was gun-shy of Gracie. Two months of evading unwanted male attention, courtesy of the Baby Predicate, confirmed her low opinion of men on the whole and romance in particular.

Janet anchored her feet in reality. If she ever got married, she would go into it with her eyes wide open and her heart firmly anchored in her chest. She didn’t believe in love at first sight like her friend, Lacy Calder, or that best friends make the best lovers like her other best friend, CeeCee. Neither did she believe marriage was just for producing offspring, as her mother apparently believed.

When it came to love, Janet wasn’t sure what she believed. She’d spent twelve years striving to become a pediatrician. She’d never had time for romance. Nor even the inclination.

There was only one man whose respect and admiration she courted. The one man who never showed his emotions, never told her he loved her.

Her father, Dr. Niles Hunter. The most renowned plastic surgeon in the Southwest. The same man who’d divorced Gracie when Janet was three years old and sick with scarlet fever. The same man who’d shunned her medical school graduation and refused to give her a recommendation for her pediatric fellowship, saying he made a policy of not endorsing anyone. She didn’t expect preferential treatment, did she?

Janet shook her head and hurried through the physicians’ entrance and down the hallway to the conference room. She smiled at the other eight doctors seated around the table. There were two empty chairs.

Good. She wasn’t the last to arrive.

“Am I late?” she asked.

“Not at all,” Dr. Peter Jackson, the facility director, said. “We’re still waiting for Dr. Gregory.”

Dr. Gage Gregory. The other new doctor.

Janet had never met Dr. Gregory, and while she was unimpressed with his Hollywood connections, she admired the tremendous contributions he’d made to medicine at such a young age, pioneering some revolutionary technique. She believed anyone with that kind of work ethic deserved applause.

“There is something we’ve been meaning to discuss with you.” Dr. Jackson nodded at her.

“Yes?” She leaned forward.

“We just found out the city zoning committee approved out expansion. During the next seven to eight months, the construction crew will tear out the south wall,

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