“I guess my social patter needs a little work,” Gard said dryly. “Hold on to me while I let you down. I want you to put most of your weight on me until you test your knee. Don’t try to be a hero.”

“Heroine.”

“Isn’t hero a gender-neutral term these days?”

Jenna leaned back and studied Gard appraisingly. “That’s an unusual question coming from someone who claims not to read romances.”

“What do you mean?”

“That question is hotly debated among some romance authors.”

“Why? Isn’t there always a hero and heroine? You don’t have to read them to know that much.”

“Not true in my books.”

Gard hesitated in front of the two stone steps leading to the main door of the clinic, holding Jenna easily in her arms. It wasn’t that she was super strong, but she enjoyed the weight of the woman against her body. The slight strain in the muscles in her arms was well worth the soft press of Jenna’s breasts against her chest. She was probably taking advantage of Jenna’s injury, as she doubted Jenna would have wanted to be in this position otherwise, but she welcomed the slow burn in the pit of her stomach. A woman hadn’t affected her this way in a long, long time. “I don’t follow.”

“I guess I didn’t mention that I write romances involving two women.”

“Lesbian romances?” Gard asked.

“Yes.”

“Huh. Is there much call for that kind of book?”

Jenna laughed. “Enough. And getting more popular all the time.”

“And are there a hero and heroine or two heroines?” Gard paused. “Or two heroes?”

“Well, I guess part of it depends on your politics or your comfort level or how you view the gender spectrum.” As much as Jenna was enjoying the odd and unexpected turn in the conversation, they were standing outside in the dark in the middle of the night. Well, Gard was standing and she was taking shameless advantage of her. She didn’t need to be carried, and it was time to relinquish her guilty pleasure. “You should put me down.”

“Ready?”

“Yes, go ahead.” Jenna carefully shifted her weight onto her injured leg as Gard eased her down. Her knee throbbed even when she wasn’t standing, and the more pressure she put on it, the sharper the pain became. She gripped Gard’s shoulders harder and tried not to wince.

“On a scale of one to ten,” Gard said, “ten being you can’t stand on it at all, where are we?”

“About a seven,” Jenna said reluctantly.

“Well, let’s not test it any further.” Gard scooped Jenna up and climbed to the narrow landing. “I want to take a look at this inside.”

“I’m sorry,” Jenna said. “This can’t be what you wanted to be doing in the middle of the night.”

“Believe me, there are lots of things I’d rather not be doing right now. Carrying a beautiful woman in my arms isn’t one of them.”

Jenna’s breath caught. “Well that’s a clever line.”

“That wasn’t a line. Could you reach into my right front pants pocket and pull out my keys?”

“Yeah, right. You’ve got a pretty smooth routine,” Jenna said acerbically. “And I am not putting my hand in your pants.”

“I’m not putting you down again, so just get the damn keys.”

“Fine,” Jenna muttered, sliding her right hand down until her fingers brushed the fly of Gard’s khakis. She tried to ignore the way Gard stiffened at the contact, but she couldn’t contain her own response. Heat bloomed in her chest and tendrils of pleasure teased between her legs. She pushed her hand into Gard’s pocket, and stone-hard muscles bunched against her palm. Oh now, that was nice. She closed her fist around a cluster of keys, careful not to let her hand stray toward the heat she knew was inches away. But she wanted to. Part of her wanted to feel Gard react to her touch again. The power to make a woman respond was an aphrodisiac all its own.

“Here.” Jenna jerked her hand free, the keys clenched in her fist.

“Thanks,” Gard said, her voice tight. She raised one knee, nestling Jenna in the cradle of her body, and took the keys. After a second of jostling the ring, she inserted a key, opened the door, and stepped inside. “On the wall to the left of the door. Light switch.”

Jenna fumbled over the wall until she found the toggle and flipped it up. She blinked against the sudden glare, taking in a square, whitewashed cinderblock room that more resembled the waiting area in an auto repair shop than what she’d imagined she’d find in a veterinary clinic. A waist-high counter ran parallel to the opposite wall and obviously served as a reception desk. Stacks of papers and file folders covered one end. A computer monitor, a phone, and a small adding machine were the only other items visible. The floor was black and gray industrial tile, well-worn, but clean. A soda machine occupied the center of the far wall with a few mismatched metal folding chairs haphazardly clustered directly in front of it. A green plastic trash can stood nearby with a hand-lettered sign on brown cardboard stating “We Recycle.”

“My practice is large animals,” Gard said as if reading Jenna’s perplexed look as criticism. “I don’t need a waiting room, although sometimes owners like to wait if we’re doing surgery. Most of my calls are actually on-site.”

“No dogs and cats or exotic birds?” Jenna said.

Gard grimaced. “Only in emergencies.”

Jenna settled back into Gard’s arms as Gard carried her across the room toward a single wood-paneled door behind the counter.

“Where do you operate?”

“Through there.” Gard tilted her head toward two floor-to-ceiling gunmetal gray swinging doors in the far rear corner. “There’s another whole building in the back. We need a lot of space for the hoists, recovery confinement areas, that sort of thing. This used to be a Chevy dealership. I had it retrofitted—” She stopped when Jenna laughed. “What?”

“I thought it looked like you ought to be repairing cars here.” Jenna tried to silence her amusement, because each time she laughed her breasts swayed against Gard’s chest in an altogether too appealing way. She was in danger of getting seriously turned on.

“Some of the horses can weigh as much as one.”

Gard opened the door behind the counter and they repeated the light switch routine, although this time, the room was considerably more hospitable than the stark waiting area outside. Jenna had expected a utilitarian office but this fifteen by twenty foot space was anything but. Dark wood bookcases crammed with a variety of books, some professional and some that appeared to be pleasure reading, filled the left wall from floor to ceiling. An oversized brown leather sofa took up most of the wall across from the bookcases. Directly ahead, a heavy carved-walnut desk sat on a dark chocolate and beige Persian rug in front of a pair of French doors. The walls that weren’t covered with framed photos of horses were painted a rich cream. The hardwood cherry floors gleamed. If Jenna hadn’t just passed through the barren room posing as a reception area—and doing a crappy job of that—she would have sworn she was in the study of a Park Avenue mansion. “This is a surprise.”

Gard glanced around as if seeing the room for the first time. Then she shrugged. “It’s comfortable.”

Jenna’s attention was diverted from her elegant surroundings when Gard gently deposited her on the butter-soft leather sofa, lifted her legs onto the seat, and removed her shoes. Gard’s blue cotton shirt was sweat-dampened along the open edges of the collar at her throat, a reminder that she’d had to exert some effort carrying Jenna all that way. While Jenna was well used to looking after herself and liked it that way, Gard’s singular attention was…well, exciting.

“So…what next, Doctor?”

Gard frowned down at her and an uncomfortable tension suddenly permeated the air.

“I don’t think we’re going to be able to roll up your pants leg high enough for me to examine you,” Gard said. “You’ll need to take them off.”

“Oh, wait a—”

“I’ll find you something to cover up with.” Gard spun on her heel and disappeared.

Jenna experimentally flexed her knee. She really did not want to get half naked in Gard Davis’s study in the middle of the night. She hadn’t planned on a doctor’s visit. She was wearing black silk bikinis. Small bikinis. They’d been handy when she was getting dressed and she hadn’t really been planning on an evening out. Had she known she would be disrobing in front of a stranger, she would’ve worn something nondescript and infinitely forgettable. Maybe she could save them both further trouble.

Unfortunately, when she tried to bend her knee the pain was excruciating. She dropped her head onto the arm of the sofa and glared at the ceiling.

“I cannot believe this is happening to me. Could my life get any worse?”

“Probably,” Gard said, coming back through the door they had entered carrying a plaid horse blanket. “This is the best I can do. My patients usually aren’t concerned with modesty. It’s clean.”

“Fine. Let’s just get this over with.”

After Gard covered her with the blanket, which thankfully wasn’t wool, Jenna quickly unzipped her pants underneath it, and immediately realized she couldn’t get them off. She could raise her hips, but she couldn’t bend her knees. “Would you mind pulling them down.”

“Not at all.” Gard reached beneath the blanket near Jenna’s ankles and carefully tugged on Jenna’s pants until they were free. After draping them over the end of the sofa, she sat next to Jenna. “I’m just going to push the blanket up until I can look at the knee area.”

“Whatever you need to do.”

Gard was gentle, even more than Jenna had expected her to be. As she pressed her fingertips slowly and carefully over Jenna’s lower thigh, her knee, and the upper portion of her lower leg, she asked if it hurt.