She shouldn’t have come in with him alone. And closed the door. Should have taken him out back to where everyone was. Although, that would have been stupid as all her equipment was here. Maybe she could run out there and call Cherry in to help, even though she wasn’t officially starting as the practice’s registered nurse-cum-practice manager-cum-receptionist until Monday. Speaking of which, she would have to source someone to help Cherry because, despite being an amazing dynamo, Cherry couldn’t manage reception, practice managing and nursing. You see, this was good. Thinking of other things. Of organising everything the way it should be. That was helping her to forget Flynn as a man and see him as a patient.
You can do this.
‘Where do you want me?’
It was on the tip of her tongue to say something completely inappropriate, but knowing her, she’d say it out loud, so she swallowed down the urge and forced a smile. ‘Go sit on the examination bed.’
He strode to the bed. Oh god, his shoulders were broad, his back straight and tapered in that way that made a woman’s mouth water. He had nice legs, the calves well shaped and—
No. Patient. Doctor. That’s what was happening here. No thinking about sexy legs or other bits of heat making male appendages.
She made herself walk calmly over to the basin in the far corner and washed her hands with the disinfectant soap, drying them with the paper towel, wishing she could splash some of the cool water on her overheated face and neck—and chest and stomach and … She sucked in a breath and turned to face him. ‘Okay. Let me look at this hand.’
‘It’s fine.’
She gave him a look she’d learned from one of the doctors in the emergency room she’d done a rotation with—that look always managed to quell even the surliest of patients. In response he shot her a lopsided grin and held out his hand. ‘Good to see you’re being sensible.’ She walked the few steps towards him. Damn, she was going to have to touch him. She could do this. She could do this. The fight had just elevated her adrenaline levels, that was all. She was a professional. A doctor. And he was a patient in need of treatment. A simple transaction. That was all this was.
She took his hand in hers, managing to ignore the spark of fire that burned from the point of contact through every nerve in her body and flashed back up to her groin in liquid heat. Oh god, could he see her blushing? Ignore it and do the job. She cleared her throat. ‘You’ve split your knuckles open and there’s a cut in the palm that will need suturing. Can you move your fingers?’
‘Yes.’
She touched each of them and asked him to wiggle. He did so. ‘Good. I don’t think you’ve broken anything, although, if the pain increases or is still as bad in a few days, I think you should get it X-rayed.’
‘Will I be able to work with it like this?’
He sounded really worried, her mouth widening in a not-good-news-smile/grimace. ‘Not really or you’ll chance pulling the sutures out. You’ll also have to keep it clean or you could get a nasty infection and that would really put you out.’
‘We have a ride tomorrow.’
‘You can ride but you can’t saddle up.’
‘Damn it.’
‘I’m sure Reid and the others will be able to take care of it for you.’
‘They shouldn’t have to.’
‘That’s what happens when you go around starting fights.’
‘I didn’t start the fight.’
‘No, Bob did that. You just ended it. You’re my hero,’ she said, lifting her hand to her forehead and batting her eyes at him, all Scarlett O’Hara like.
He snorted, the movement of air brushing across her cheek, chasing little frissons of thrill over her skin. She swallowed hard, ignoring the sensation.
‘I’m no hero.’
Surprised at the bitterness in his tone, she dropped her hand and met his gaze. ‘I appreciate you trying to help.’
‘Even though it wasn’t necessary and I possibly made things worse?’
Her lips quirked. ‘Even then.’
Their gazes clung for long seconds until he flinched and she realised her thumb had brushed over his knuckles. Coughing, she let go of his hand. ‘So, sutures.’ She moved away to the cabinet against the far wall to get supplies, putting bandages, saline solution and a suturing kit on a little trolley and wheeled it to the lock safe where she got out a vial of topical anaesthesia.
She finished prepping the trolley, took a deep breath to steady herself, and forced herself into doctor mode. When she was in doctor mode, she could conquer anything. Doctor mode allowed her to channel her need for adrenaline with calm and control. As one of the doctors said when she was doing her ER rotation, that capacity made her a ‘superlative’ doctor in high adrenaline situations. She wasn’t sure she felt so superlative right now, but she would settle for reasonably good.
Turning, she pushed the trolley over to him. ‘I’ll just clean the wound first and then give you a topical anaesthetic to help numb the area while I suture it. I’ll give you some painkillers to take for when that wears off.’
‘That won’t be necessary.’
‘I thought you said you weren’t a hero.’ She quirked her brow at him. ‘Take the painkillers.’
‘Yes, doctor.’
She smiled at his half-mocking acquiescence. ‘Are you ready?’
‘Yep.’
She went to work, hands steady the moment she began, as they always were when she lost herself in her job, in the clinical, analytical side of it. It wasn’t until she was done that she noticed the warmth of his breath brushing the side of her face. She glanced up. He was watching what she was doing. ‘Most people don’t like to see the needle in their skin.’
‘I’m not most people.’
‘No, you’re not.’
Their gazes met again and this time, god help her, she couldn’t look away. And why was she standing between his legs? The warmth of them tingled along her sides,
