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available.”
    “I see your point. Maybe it’s the ‘sales’ part that bothers me. Couldn’t they call the job Patient Placement coordinator?”
    “PPC? Perfectly politically correct?”
    “Why not?” she demanded, laughing in spite of herself.
    “No reason I know of.” He took a cookie and chewed thought fully. “So you had a nice chat with Cal and Mitch?”
    “Yes. They were very informative. And I’m wondering…”
    She stopped herself just in time. Wondering about Jake was another dangerous activity.
    “What?” As he blew on the steaming coffee, his gaze never left hers.
    Damn. Even tired he didn’t miss anything. Ignoring his question would just get more attention. “It just occurred to me that both of them are married and have families. You don’t. Why is that?”
    “I have different goals.”
    “Oh?”
    “I want other things from my career. Being chief trauma surgeon will get me where I want to be in terms of practicing medicine. After that the sky’s the limit. I’ve thought seriously about politics.”
    “That seems self-indulgent. A power trip.”
    “You don’t approve.” He wasn’t asking.
    Without confirming, she said, “Medicine is community service in its purest, most basic form. It’s a higher calling than self-gratification.”
    “Without politics, policies don’t change and people don’t get help.”
    “But not just anyone can save a boy with belly trauma. You’re highly trained to save lives. Let someone else without those skills change policy.”
    His expression turned stormy. “Someone with my particular skill set has a unique perspective in shaping the future of health care in this country.”
    “Maybe. But I can’t help thinking that it isn’t people in general, but you in particular at the top of your priority list. It seems to me that you’re all about money and power.”
    Fire turned his eyes to quicksilver. “Does taking shots at me make you feel better about kissing me back?”
    “That’s not what this is about.” Although she knew his question wasn’t far from the truth.
    “I’m glad burying your head in the sand is working for you.” He looked at the pager at the waist of his scrubs. “I’ve got patients.”
    Without another word he stood and walked out. Suddenly she was alone. It’s what she wanted and it should have made her happy, but it didn’t. And it had everything to do with her damned attraction to that man. It simply refused to go away. What she needed was anger, buckets and buckets of being mad as hell. That’s what had gotten her through the first stages of grief after losing her husband.
    She needed to get angry and channel her mad, use it in any way possible to protect herself.
    But she shouldn’t have to work so hard. The allocation of that much energy didn’t make a whole lot of sense given the fact that she didn’t have an especially high opinion of Jake. His medical expertise was exemplary. His moralhigh ground? Not so much. And yet, her mouth still tingled every time she saw him.
    The trick would be not seeing him at work as much as possible.
     
    Twenty-four hours after running into Hope, Jake was still intrigued and annoyed in equal parts. He walked into the office he shared with his partners where their billing and paperwork were done. Mitch and Cal’s specialty was emergency medicine, which meant no long-term care. Jake had a single exam room for his occasional follow-up on a surgical patient. In the back, their conference room held a classy, mahogany table and three high-backed leather chairs for monthly status meetings. He was hoping that seeing his friends would take his mind off Hope.
    She was deliberately trying to piss him off. Really working at it. What the hell had he ever done besides kiss her? He had to admit it was a really great kiss, but still…
    “Are you going to stand out here in the hall and daydream?” Mitch had walked up behind him. His smile was set on screw-with-a-friend. “We were foolishly