Chapter 22
Mark didn’t understand his body’s reaction to Annie—at all. He’d always been proud of his instincts regarding people. He was usually right. With Dr. O’Brien, he’d taken an instant dislike to her. Now, next to this woman in crisp white cotton, hair that fell down her shoulders and wearing some kind of flower perfume he’d love to roll over in . . . He wanted so badly to kiss her. Part of it, he thought, was that this woman was not Dr. O’Brien. She was Annie to him.
When Annie pulled away from him, he realized he’d been staring at her. His hand had been around her shoulders.
Annie had inched away so her body no longer touched his. She held on to the side of her seat.
He repulsed her that much?
He cleared his throat. “Um . . . Sorry, Annie. It’s my protective nature. I didn’t m
