Page 101 of Boyfriend of the Hour

“Nate,” said the man standing next to us. “How about an introduction to your lady friend?”

“Showtime,” I whispered into Nathan’s ear and turned to flash my brightest grin at his friend. “Sorry, I just couldn’t wait to see this one.”

I wasn’t sure why he used my full name. Maybe it was just easier to keep my character straight. Or maybe it was the fact that Nathan said he liked the way it rolled off his tongue.

Nathan cleared his throat. “Ah, yeah. Giovanna. My, um, girlfriend.”

“Joni,” I corrected, then purred, “This one’s the only one who calls me Giovanna. And that’s only when he’s flirting with me. Isn’t that right, babe?”

“Can’t blame him for trying,” the man said as he stretched a hand toward me. “I’m Jordan.”

Nathan seemed to wake up at the sight of Jordan’s hand touching mine. “Yes, I apologize. Joni, this is Jordan Palmer, one of the chief surgeons at my practice, and his wife, Tracy. The others are Boon and his wife, Adele; that’s Dwight and his fiancée, Reagan; and this is Charlotte Mueller, our newest surgeon.”

As Nathan gestured toward each person now standing around us in a semicircle, they offered a polite nod or smile. All except the final woman—the one with the neat brown bob—who only barely managed a tight grimace.

“Wonderful to meet all of you,” I said with another smile. “Nathan has told me so much about you.”

One of Nathan’s brows arched at that, but he didn’t correct the obvious lie.

“So what do you do…Joni?” asked Charlotte. “We haven’t heard athingabout you.”

“Oh, I’m looking for a new position, actually,” I said. “Right now, I’m working at?—”

“Joni’s in recovery after an injury,” Nathan put in before I could finish. “Before that, she was inChicago.”

“On Broadway?” asked the woman named Reagan. “Oh, that’s such a good show!”

I nodded with a smile, ignoring the tightness in my chest at the mention of it. “Yes, it is.”

“It must be so exciting to dance on Broadway,” said one of the other women, whose name I had already forgotten. Drat. “You must be very talented.”

I opened my mouth to say I really didn’t know, since I hadn’t even made it to my first performance when my knee decided to break, but Nathan stepped in again.

“I think our table’s ready,” he said. “The maître d’ is waving us over.”

The little party immediately followed a host, who started leading them to our table. Nathan and I followed, and I took a moment to hang back.

“FYI?” I whispered into his ear as we walked. “Boyfriends usually touch their girlfriends. A little PDA isn’t just for department store clerks.”

That brown brow lifted again. It did funny things to my insides. “PDA?”

“You know, public displays of affection.” I smiled. “Just a little since they’re your coworkers. No need for full tongue. But they’re not going to believe we’re actually involved if you don’t touch me at all.” I nodded toward one of the doctors. “See the way he has his hand on his wife’s back, guiding her around? I bethe lets it rest on the back of her chair when they sit down too. Maybe plays with her hair if he likes her a lot. That sort of thing.”

Nathan seemed to look around the rest of the restaurant as if searching for further evidence. He’d find it, of course. It was a fancy place, but when couples weren’t eating, they were generally touching, at least a little. The ones who weren’t…well, they’d probably been together for eons or were on their way out.

“And women like that?” he asked.

I nodded. “Most, probably. I know I do. Just like they like being told they’re pretty when they make an effort or petted like a cat.”

He blinked but didn’t hide his smile. “Like a cat?”

I shrugged. “Don’t blame a Leo for being a lion, man. We like to be the stars of the show. All you need to do is pet me and tell me I’m pretty, and I’ll be yours forever. Sad but true.”

The smile quirked. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

His palm found the small of my back, fingers touching my spine. A shiver went straight up it as he guided me through the restaurant with a strong propriety, not unlike my dance instructor had in the sixth grade when I took a year of ballroom just for the fun of it.

I didn’t know if Nathan Hunt knew how to dance, but if he did, I was willing to bet he was a hell of a lead.