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sandwich shop’s is far less spacious.”
    “Thank you.” The full blast of a smile from Brielle nearly knocked him over. She was naturally beautiful. Not because of caked-on makeup or manmade touch-ups. Some of the women he’d attributed the title to in the past had relied on gimmicks to perfect their presentation. None of that was necessary for Brielle.
    In the weeks after their run-in at VegVana, he’d wondered if he’d imagined her stunning loveliness. He hadn’t. Her chestnut hair fell in waves to her waist. The fullness of her lips had had him longing to kiss their plump softness from the moment she’d burst from the stairwell. Out of nowhere, his absent sex drive had roared to life. At the most inopportune time possible.
    It’d been a month or so since he’d slunk out of Kurt and Becca’s bedroom. The longest period of abstinence he’d imposed since he was sixteen. No wonder he was having trouble controlling himself when faced with a gorgeous woman. One he desperately hoped he could assist. Even if it meant stifling his own reactions to her.
    As he waited for her in the hallway, he recited all the reasons why instant attraction didn’t matter in this case. Chemistry couldn’t justify violating the patient-doctor relationship, no matter how badly he wished it could. She seemed to trust him and she honestly needed help. He wouldn’t risk damaging her chances for recovery.
    Luke had treated plenty of vulnerable, gorgeous women in his career. None of them had affected him like Brielle did. The connection burning between them didn’t come along every day. Maybe he could use it to facilitate her healing.
    When she emerged, she hovered by the door to the stairs.
    “Brielle, do you know how phobias can be treated?” He didn’t join her just yet.
    “Isn’t that your job?”
    He barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I suppose it is.”
    “No, really, I don’t.” She flushed.
    “Why would you? You’re not a psychologist.” He hoped she didn’t balk now. “One way to treat phobias is through systematic desensitization, which means encouraging a patient to live through their fears. They have to realize the terror is irrational and overcome it a little at a time in a very controlled environment. The trigger stops being frightening when you face your phobia and grind it into dust.”
    “You mean I have to get locked up.” She paled. Her eyes grew wide and her breathing turned erratic. One hand steadied her against the wall, but she wobbled anyway.
    Holy shit. She was going to pass out.
    Luke lunged for her, wrapping her in his arms and guiding her to the floor. Dazed, she blinked up at him, questions dancing in her rich brown eyes. “Put your head between your knees. Breathe slow and deep. With me.”
    They dragged in a lungful of air together. Then released it. Again and again.
    “Better now?” Luke drew circles on her back, surprised by how much of her he could span with one hand. She hadn’t seemed so little when she’d held under the pressure of relating her childhood to him. Part of that could be attributed to her boxy, ill-fitting clothes.
    “Yes. Sorry.”
    “Don’t apologize. It’s my fault. I shouldn’t have sprung the treatment plan on you like that.” He tucked a wisp of her hair behind her ear so he could monitor her expression. “We’ll go slow. Really slow. Only taking another step when you’re ready.”
    “How is that going to work in five—no, four—more sessions?” She dropped her forehead onto her knee and wound her arms around her shins.
    “It’s not.”
    She wilted beneath his gaze.
    “We’re going to have to work longer than that on something so ingrained in your psyche.” He wanted to rub away her frown with the pad of his thumb, but he held himself in check. Barely. “I hope you weren’t expecting a silver bullet. This is going to be hard. But we’ll get there together and the effort will be worth it in the end.”
    “I can’t afford therapy.” She shrugged.