Chaerin pulled into the empty gravel lot beside her clinic on the outskirts of Shelburne, turned off the motor, and studied her passenger. Dara still slept, her head tilted against the window, her face partially illuminated by silver starlight. The otherworldly glow accentuated the contours of her face and smoothed away the lines of fatigue Chaerin had seen earlier, giving her the look of a delicately carved ivory statue. She’d been surprised when Dara had fallen asleep—she seemed too tightly wound to relax so completely with a stranger. But then she’d heard the quiet moans cutting through the low murmur of the radio as she’d driven through the night. Dara was either having a very bad dream or was in considerable pain. Judging from how she’d looked when she’d arrived at the airport—drawn and exhausted—along with her earlier comment about having started the day in the hospital, Chaerin suspected she wasn’t well. Although Dara had put on a good show of being totally in command, right now she appeared not only defenseless, but vulnerable.

A surge of protectiveness, coupled with an intense desire to ease Dara’s discomfort, put Chaerin on instant alert. The reaction was foreign, primitive, and one she was quite sure she’d never experienced toward any other human being. Uneasy with the unwelcome urges, she chalked her mood up to the lateness of the hour. Everything seemed slightly unreal awash in the moonlight, including her own feelings.

“Ms. Park?” Chaerin said quietly, carefully pressing her fingertips to the sleeping woman’s shoulder.

Dara jolted upright with a gasp and jerked away from Chaerin’s touch, her expression a mixture of apprehension and combativeness. “What? Where are we?”

“I’m sorry,” Chaerin said quickly, aware that Dara was not just startled, but threatened. Someone had frightened her in the night, in the dark, before, and the knowledge settled in the pit of her stomach like a hot, hard stone. “You’re in my truck. At my clinic. You fell asleep.”

Dara slowly drew air in through her nose, visibly calming herself. She was strong, and admirably self-sufficient. “Sorry. I didn’t expect to fall asleep. My apologies.”

“None needed. How’s your leg?”

Tentatively, Dara extended her knee and winced. “Stiff, but moving.”

“I’ll come around and help you out.”

“I hardly think that’s necessary, Dr. Lee.”

“Chaerin. Call me Chaerin.”

“Then it’s Dara to you.”

“All right. Dara. I’ll come around and help you out.”

Dara folded her arms over her middle and glared at Chaerin. “Are you always this overbearingly authoritative?”

Chaerin grinned. “Usually just with the horses. You’re a special case.”

Dara refused to smile, but she wanted to. God, the woman was infuriating, but on her, even arrogance was attractive. “I can walk.”

“Let’s find out.”

Chaerin jumped down from the truck, shoved her keys into the front pocket of her pants, and hurried around to the passenger side of the truck, not trusting Dara to wait. The woman was independent to a fault, and Chaerin didn’t want her to hurt herself just to prove that she didn’t need any help. Besides, she wanted an excuse to lift her out of the truck. And she did not want to think very long about why she hungered to hold Dara in her arms again. After pulling open the cab door, she reached inside and slid one arm under Dara’s knees and the other around her shoulders. “Hold on.”

“You really ought to ask permission first.” Just the same, Dara threaded her arms around Chaerin’s neck and let herself be lifted from the cab. She tried to keep some distance between their bodies, but that proved difficult when Chaerin tightened her hold and pulled her against her chest. The muscles in Chaerin’s arms bunched against the backs of Dara’s thighs and along her shoulders in an unconscious display of strength that was tantalizing and, damn it, arousing. She wasn’t usually so quick to respond physically to a casual touch from a woman. Her body was not her own today—her reactions seemed to belong to someone else. She hated being out of control this way, but the pleasure of being cradled in the arms of a woman who looked and smelled as good as Chaerin did was way beyond her ability to ignore, so she might as well enjoy the tingling in her s and other places. Secretly. The last thing she wanted was Lee Chaerin knowing she was by such innocent contact with her. “Don’t hurt your back.”

“Hmm?” Chaerin asked absently, having caught a hint of dahlias and spice, reminding her of hot summer mornings before the dew burned off. But it wasn’t morning, and the dahlias hadn’t bloomed. “Is that you?”

“What?”

“That…” Chaerin caught herself trying to catch another hint of the alluring scent and mentally cursed. What the hell was she doing? She never got lost in a woman this way. “Never mind.”

“Maybe you should put me down. I think you’re shaking.”

“I’m not going to drop you.” Chaerin laughed. “Besides, this is nothing compared to a traction delivery or examining a cow’s hoof when she’s leaning on you.”

“I’m so glad I’m easier than the patients you usually have to deal with,” Dara said with a bit of temper. “You know, being compared to a barnyard animal isn’t exactly flattering.”

“I guess my social patter needs a little work,” Chaerin 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?”

Dara leaned back and studied Chaerin 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.”

Chaerin hesitated in front of the two stone steps leading to the main door of the clinic, holding Dara 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 Dara’s s against her chest. She was probably taking advantage of Dara’s injury, as she doubted Dara 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?” Chaerin asked.

“Yes.”

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

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

“And are there a hero and heroine or two heroines?” Chaerin 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 Dara was enjoying the odd and unexpected turn in the conversation, they were standing outside in the dark in the middle of the night. Well, Chaerin was standing and sh