Sanctuary

from the west side. Giff has a group that took the north.” Weary, Brian rubbed his hands over his face. “This is getting to be a habit.”
    “It’s been more than twelve hours since she was seen.” Kirby looked out into the driving rain. “That’s too long. They’ll have to call off the search until the storm passes. God, Brian, we’re going to find her washed up after this. It’s about the only explanation left. Her poor husband.”
    “There’s nothing to do now but wait it out. You need a dry shirt and some coffee.”
    “Yeah.” She dragged her wet hair away from her face. “I do. I’ll take a look at your hand while I’m here and redress it for you.”
    “It’s fine.”
    “I’ll decide that,” she said, following him in, “after I take a look.”
    “Suit yourself. Go on up and get something out of Jo’s closet.”
    The house seemed so quiet, isolated in the violent rain. “Is she here?”
    “As far as I know, she’s out too.” He went to the freezer, took out some black bean soup he’d made weeks before. “She’ll take shelter, like everybody else.”
    When Kirby came back fifteen minutes later, the kitchen smelled of coffee and simmering soup. The warmth eased away the last of the tension in her shoulders. Leaning against the doorway a moment, she indulged herself by watching him work.
    Despite his bandaged hand, he was neatly slicing thick slabs from a loaf of brown bread he’d undoubtedly baked himself. His wet shirt clung to him, displaying an attractive outline of muscle and rib. When he looked over at her, his eyes were a cool, misty blue that made her stomach flutter pleasantly.
    “It smells wonderful.”
    “Figured you hadn’t eaten.”
    “No, I haven’t—not since a stale Danish this morning.” She held out the shirt she’d taken from his closet. “Here, put this on. You shouldn’t stand around in wet clothes.”
    “Thanks.” He noted that she’d changed into some of Jo’s dull gray sweats. They bagged on her and made her seem all the more delicate. “You look lost in those.”
    “Well, Jo’s a good six inches taller than I am.” She lifted a brow as he tugged the wet shirt off over his head. His skin was damp and brown and smooth. “God, you’re attractive, Brian.” She laughed when his brows drew together in what was obviously confused embarrassment. “I get to appreciate your wonderful build on two levels, as a doctor and as a woman. Better put that shirt on, or I might lose control, on both counts.”
    “That could be interesting.” Letting the shirt dangle from his fingers, he stepped toward her. “Which would come first?”
    “I never let personal leanings interfere with professional obligations.” She trailed a finger up his arm, then down to his wrist. “Which is why I’m going to examine that wound first thing.”
    “And second thing?” Before she could answer, he cupped his hands under her elbows and lifted her. When their mouths were level, he leaned forward to toy with her lips.
    “Excellent upper body strength.” Her voice was just a little breathless as she wrapped her legs around his waist. “Your pulse is a little elevated,” she murmured, checking the one at his throat with her mouth. “Just a little fast.”
    “I’ve got a case on you, Doc Kirby.” Brian turned his face into her hair. It smelled of rain and lemons. “It doesn’t seem to be passing. Fact is, I’m starting to think it’s terminal.” When she went very still, he shifted her until he could see her eyes. “What do you want from me, Kirby?”
    “I thought I knew.” Her fingers tingled when she skimmed them over his face. “I’m not sure anymore. Maybe whatever case you’ve got is contagious. Do you have this ache around your heart?”
    “Just like it’s being squeezed.”
    “And this lifting and sinking sensation in your stomach?”
    “All the time lately. So what’s wrong with us, Doc?”
    “I’m not sure, but—” She broke off as the screen door slammed. Voices rose and invaded the kitchen. Sighing, Kirby laid her brow against Brian’s until he shifted her hips and set her down.
    “Sounds like Lexy and Giff are back.” He kept his eyes on Kirby. “Some of the others are likely with them, and they’ll be looking for a hot meal.”
    “Then I’ll help you dish up some soup.”
    “I’d appreciate it.” He lifted the lid on the pot, letting steam and scent escape. “We’re going to have to finish this conversation sometime or