‘Did he hurt himself? That was a pretty fierce fight. I can imagine it’s going to cause quite a stir.’
She looked back at the closed door behind her. ‘I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone about this. It was a bit out of character for Flynn and I know he’s embarrassed.’
‘Oh, okay.’ He looked down at his feet and then up through his fringe, his glasses slipping down his nose a little. ‘Anything for you, Doctor Prita.’
Was he trying to flirt with her? Her smile stiffened. God, a patient crush. Just what she needed. She needed to disengage and try to not hurt his feelings. ‘I appreciate that. But I better get in and see to Flynn’s injury.’
‘Yes. Of course. And if you need me to tell the police what I saw, just let me know. That Bob Thompson is a bully. He’s caused some issues for me too because of the bee hives I plan to keep at the back of my shop. He said they’ll be a menace and is trying to stop me from having them.’
‘Sounds like Bob. He likes to think he’s in control of everything.’
‘Yeah, well, he’s a bully and he shouldn’t have touched you like that. I wish I could have helped more.’
‘That’s kind of you, but unnecessary.’ He did a nod-head-shake-shrug combination that made her think of an agitated puppy. ‘Well—’ she took a step back, ‘—I better get inside to my patient.’
‘Of course. Thanks for inviting me to the party. And for introducing me to people.’
‘Pleasure. You should go back out there.’
‘Oh no, I’ve got some new wax that’s come in and I want to dip some new candles tonight. I need a full stock inventory before I can open.’
‘Of course. Make sure you don’t burn yourself again.’
He dipped his head and smiled shyly at her. ‘I won’t. And if I do, I know who to call.’
‘Of course. I’m always here to all my patients.’
He frowned a little but then nodded, flashed her another smile and scurried back down the stairs.
Prita didn’t wait to watch him go but let herself back inside and locked the door behind her.
It was cool in the room, a lovely reprieve from the heat of the day, but instead of going straight to the treatment room, she leaned against the door and took a moment before facing Flynn again.
Her hand was still tingling from when she’d touched Flynn to look at his hand. Her whole body tingled from standing so close to him. It had been a hot day, but she’d become too aware, as they stood so close, of his heat enveloping her in caressing waves, making her temperature soar as her nerves sung with the tension she inevitably felt when he was anywhere near. With his crooked smile, dark shag of auburn hair and hazel eyes that reminded her of the sunlit-dappled bush, he was rugged and handsome in that clean-cut Australian outback man way, and usually so controlled and calm. The absolute opposite of her.
He was the opposite of every man she’d ever had an interest in.
So why was she drawn to him so completely right from the first moment she’d clapped eyes on him? It was so totally unfair. And unprofessional. And unlike her. A whole range of ‘uns’ that she couldn’t think of now. Not when she had to go and touch him again and deal with his injured hand.
Stupid bloody idiotic man racing to her rescue. Who told him she needed rescuing? She should be angry with him, except, she wasn’t. There’d been a part of her that had thrilled to the fact he’d done it. For her. So out of character for someone who was always in control. So bloody hot.
‘Damn it, Prita. It wasn’t hot. It was stupid. Careless and rash and stupid.’
And if anyone knew rash and stupid, it was her. Her teenage years had been made up of one rash decision after another as she’d rebelled against her mother’s family and their religious and cultural strictures, in an effort to prove that she could live her life on full throttle like her papa, that she belonged with him and not with them. Some of those rash decisions had ended up well and others were completely disastrous. She was determined not to make any of those mistakes again. If not for herself, for Carter.
‘Everything okay?’
Her eyes snapped open—when had she closed them?—and she stared at Flynn, leaning against the doorframe with that serious expression that did something to her insides that was medically impossible. The thrill of his presence raced through her, and if she was still being rash and thoughtless, she would cross that room now and plaster herself against him and lose herself to the magic she knew she’d find in his arms and hands and lips.
His hands.
Crap. She needed to get a grip and treat him like the patient he was. He’d hurt his hand and she had to fix it. And not entertain some stupid sexual fantasy. She reached up and pulled her ponytail nice and tight. ‘I told you to wait in the treatment room.’
‘You were taking a long time.’
‘I was only gone a few minutes.’ She forced herself not to roll her eyes and smiled her doctor’s smile. ‘Come on. Let’s get your hand sorted.’
She ushered him down the hall and into the treatment room, telling herself over and over that she was the doctor and he was her patient and for god’s sake, stop looking at his arse and those long-muscled legs.
She closed the door behind her. He turned to look at her, gaze clashing with hers and she was suddenly aware of how small this room was. And was the air conditioning not working? She listened. She could hear the whir of the fan. It was on. She licked her lips. His gaze tracked the movement.
