One Night...With Her Boss. Annie O'Neil
was constantly threatening to take over his practical side. His professional side. The one he’d insisted they respect. Work. Careers. Things you could rely on. And all he could think about was taking her in his arms and having his very wicked way with her.
“Any tingling sensations in your arm?” Ali asked Rory.
“Nah.”
“Shortness of breath?”
Rory sucked in a deep breath. “Nope.”
“Guess you’ve kept your arteries out of the pinch zone. Lucky boy. Doesn’t feel like a compound fracture—otherwise it’d be surgery for you!”
“C’mon, Rory. Up you get. I’ll have a look.” Aidan went to help Rory push up from the ground.
“Excuse me, I think we’re good here. Aren’t we, Rory?” Ali moved to Rory’s other side as he rose.
“You and me are always good, Harty. Now … if Tate, here, would just shave a little more often—”
“Invasive surgery isn’t the answer to everything.” Aidan glared across the expanse of Rory’s chest at her.
“I’m pretty sure I’ve got this one covered, Dr. Tate.”
“Hey, listen, guys—no need to fight over me.” Rory giggled.
“We’re not fighting!” Ali and Aidan answered simultaneously.
“Uh …” Rory looked round at his teammates. “Anyone else here see Mommy and Daddy bickering again?”
“Yup.”
“Sure did.”
“Me too!”
“Same old, same old.”
Aidan tightened his grip on Rory’s elbow as the confirmations rolled in. They weren’t fighting.
“Dr. Lockhart and I were merely having a professional disagreement. Over treatment. Which is a wise thing to do. Options should always be discussed before invasive action is taken. That was the reasoning behind our hiring Dr. Lockhart in the first place.”
“Not because she’s a hot doc?” shouted one of the boys. Aidan threw a glance in Ali’s direction, hoping for some backup. Annoyingly, she was laughing along with the rest of the lads.
“Rory. Get a move on. We need to get some ice on you and take some X-rays.”
“I’ll just stay here with the boys, shall I?” Ali called after him.
“Whatever you think is best, Dr. Lockhart,” Aidan called over his shoulder, hating himself as he did it.
What could he do, though? It wasn’t as though he was going to admit he had the hots for his new colleague. Work and pleasure—they just didn’t mix. If it meant he had to come across as a hard-ass some of the time—well, then, so be it. These boys had a tournament to win—and that needed to be his priority.
“What was that all about?”
Ali held the door open, but didn’t look anywhere near issuing him an invitation to enter. She hadn’t said two words to him the rest of the day at work, and he couldn’t blame her. He’d gone all Cro-Magnon on her and that wasn’t the best way to work together. It wasn’t any way to work together.
“Would it help if I said you were possibly right?”
“Possibly?” Ali looked indignant.
“Well, it’s a fracture. I strapped him up—figure-eight—and told him to rest and ice it tonight, and that both of us would take a look in the morning, when the swelling had gone down.”
“That’s very magnanimous of you.” Ali fake-smiled at him, then began to close the door as she spoke. “Thank you for coming by to let me know.”
“This—” he lifted up a two grocery sacks and stuck his foot in the doorway “—is a peace offering. Can I make you dinner?”
“What? And have you one-up me again?” Ali’s hackles were well and truly raised.
“No.” Aidan pressed his heels into the ground and made himself grow a couple of inches.
He knew he’d been a jerk, but he was hardly going to let Ali turn this situation into a free-for-all of notch-gathering. The North Stars’ medical needs were ultimately his responsibility. And he knew the patients better than she did. Fact.
“I’m happy to have takeaway—or nothing, if you prefer—but we’ve got to sort this out.”
“What, exactly?”
“You. Me. How we deal with things at work.”
Ali rocked back in her woolly boots and he could almost see the decision-making process in her eyes.
“What were you going to make?”
“Risotto.”
She pushed her lips out into a deep red moue and arched a brow.
“What kind?”
“Asparagus and lemon. My nan’s recipe.”
“I didn’t know your nan was Italian.”
“She wasn’t—but I dare you to diss my nan’s risotto.”
“Ha!” Ali pulled open the door and let him pass. “Do you have her tucked around the corner somewhere?”
“Not tonight,” Aidan mused as he carried the shopping to her kitchen island. “I wasn’t certain if you’d offer to cook.”
“That’s something we both know is unlikely to happen.” Ali padded over to him and began to nosy through the bags.
“You want to open up that wine I brought the other day?” He scanned the counter to see if it was still there. It was.
“You go ahead.” Ali slipped onto one of the barstools and watched as Aidan began to hunt round her kitchen for knives or chopping boards or whatever it was he needed to make risotto. “I’m ‘in between’ drinks right now.”
“Oh, yeah?” Aidan smiled up at her. “What does that mean?”
“It happens sometimes—I just can’t pick what drink I like. Right now I’m leaning toward soda and lime.”
“Jumping on the wagon?”
“No—” she started, then reconsidered. “Maybe. I don’t know … Just haven’t felt like drinking. It’s my new boss.” She pulled a face at him. “He’s working me so hard I need to be at the top of my game so he’ll stop questioning my expert opinion about things. Like injured clavicles near the pinch zone.”
“Ali …”
“Yes?” She drummed her fingers along the kitchen island.
She was looking forward to an explanation. She was used to being in charge. Biting her tongue in front of her patients was not familiar terrain and she didn’t like it. Not one bit.
“Here.” Aidan handed her a knife and a big handful of asparagus. “Chop these up, will you?”
“Tell me why you undermined me today.” She stood her ground. She wasn’t going to be sidetracked and pushed into a sous chef role to boot.
“Honestly?” He looked at her and about a thousand thoughts jockeyed for pole position. “I’m …” he began, then reconsidered. “You’re—This is all a big change. Having you here.”
“Why? Because I’m a woman or because I’m better at practicing medicine?” She gave him a sassy grin.
“Because you’re different.” Aidan responded tactically. “I know you would be hard-pressed to believe it—but I don’t really do change. And having