The elevator doors opened, and he was dumped onto the fourth floor.

Rounding the corner, he frowned when he spied Rachel in one of the chairs. Hell, he hoped this wasn’t about what had happened between them last year. In all honesty, he’d been waiting for that to catch up with him.

You’re being paranoid, Seb.

They’d both been consenting adults who’d agreed to remain mum about the night they’d shared. Not that the hospital really had any rules against colleagues sleeping together, although the unspoken consensus was that it could be a sticky situation. But it evidently worked for some. There was at least one pair of surgeons at Centre Hospitalier who were married. He and Rachel weren’t even close to being married or involved, though. It had been just one night.

Rachel didn’t even look at him. Dressed in a gauzy white skirt and a blouse that was as blue as the ocean, she looked almost as warm and inviting. And when she crossed her legs—that slow slide of calf over calf was reminiscent of... He swallowed.

Okay, don’t go there.