The Surgeon's Christmas Wish. Annie O'Neil
sorry, love. Excuse the lack of shoes. I was just—”
A fresh blast of piney mountain air flooded into the waiting room, along with a familiar-looking woman. She didn’t look pleased. Miraculously, her mood didn’t detract from her take-your-breath-away beauty. Tall and slender, clearly a regular on the slopes and without a speck of make-up. Enhancing that level of natural beauty wasn’t necessary. Apple-red lips, glossy black hair and creamy skin with his particular favorite, a smattering of freckles across the nose. Did those eyes of hers sparkle like starlit ebony when she was in a good mood? Fraser had seen his share of beauties in his time, but this woman hit every mark. Too bad relationships were off limits for him. The impact she’d had on him in this handful of seconds was like a fully weighted sucker punch. If ever someone had presented a need to re-examine the rulebook, this woman was it. In spades.
“I am going to have to have a word with the snow patrol. They need to start at dawn,” the woman growled in Liesel’s direction, oblivious of Fraser and his approving gaze. “Someone’s got to crack down on these hillside hooligans!” He watched with amusement as her eyes moved from Liesel’s bewildered face to himself. Here it comes, here … it … comes! The not-so-slow dawn of recognition.
“You?”
“If ‘hillside hooligans’ or ‘mountain menaces’ are to whom you are referring, then you’ve got me.” Fraser grinned broadly. He watched as she physically recoiled from him. That was a new one.
He pulled himself up to his full height as she fixed him with a potent glare. Wow. Usually a smile won the ladies over. This one clearly had her own set of hurdles to jump. He dropped the smile and jokey tone. He was a doctor and a patients’ needs came first. Posturing was a bunch of nonsense. She was going to have to get a grip and act like a grown-up.
“I am sorry for having distressed you, but I’m afraid I’ve got an emergency here at the clinic. So, if you’ll excuse me?” He turned towards the examination room Liesel had indicated held the patient.
“What? Wait a minute!” The woman’s voice hardened. “This is my clinic, so I think you’ll find any patients waiting here will be for me. Me or a Dr. MacKenzie, who’s meant to appear later in the—”
Tara felt her mouth go dry for the second time in less than five minutes.
“Wait a minute. You’re Dr. MacKenzie.”
“Nice to meet you.” Fraser instinctively glanced at the exam room, hoping this interrogation would end fairly quickly. Then again, this wasn’t strictly the best way to meet your new boss. “Dr. Braxton, I presume?”
Fraser offered her another smile, this time secretly enjoying the pretty flush of scarlet creeping into Tara’s cheeks as he extended a hand towards her. Good. He did have an effect on her.
Tara curtly took his proffered hand and offered a quick one-two, business-only shake. Was she always this spirited or was it exclusive to nearly being run over by a new colleague? He suspected the former.
“Excuse me, doctors.” Liesel’s voice broke through the tension-thick air. “We’ve got a little boy in here with a black eye, a potential concussion, sore wrist and a very worried mother.”
Tara wished she could scrub away the flush of heat from her cheeks. Unlikely, as Liesel’s comment only caused it to deepen. Fraser MacKenzie had actually taken her breath away and she wasn’t happy about it. Not in the slightest. Particularly as she had worked so hard to separate work and emotions. The last thing she wanted to compromise was her professional duty. And she was most certainly not going to let a gallivanting snow jockey get the upper hand.
“Of course. Sorry, Liesel. Why didn’t you radio me?”
“I tried, but you didn’t respond.” Liesel glanced at the clipboard she held in the crook of her arm. “The little boy’s mum, a Mrs. Carroll, was so anxious I rang Dr. MacKenzie on the off chance he was nearby and he said he’d race over.”
“He raced over all right,” Tara muttered under her breath, as she moved her hand down to her belt to check her radio. The little green light wasn’t shining.
“Dead batteries?” His smile was friendly but Tara was sure she could hear a patronizing tone in Dr. MacKenzie’s voice. “Could’ve happened to anyone.”
“Batteries often freeze at high altitude, as I’m sure you know.” Tara quirked an eyebrow at him and forced the corners of her lips to turn upwards into a bright smile.
Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut? Tara felt like kicking herself—and kicking Fraser MacKenzie. Did his eyes really need to twinkle with delight when he rubbed in what a schoolgirl error she had made? This was hardly a competition for who could be the better doctor.
Batteries frequently froze up here at high elevation. Fact.
Even so, it was a stupid mistake. What if she hadn’t been near the clinic and a patient required critical care? She’d have to renew the vigor of her checks every morning and stick a spare pair of batteries into the insulated pocket of her ski suit before she went out. More importantly, even if Fraser did make Braveheart look like a wimpy nerd, she needed to make sure this encounter ended with her new employee understanding who ran things here. And it certainly wasn’t him. She began to unzip her ski jacket and put on her best charm-school voice.
“Dr. MacKenzie, since you haven’t had a chance to settle in, I’ll take this patient.” Before he could protest, she slipped past him and opened the door, forcing herself to look up into those blue-as-a-lake eyes before she disappeared into the exam room.
“Are you happy to show us what you’re made of later in the day?”
“Perfectly.” Fraser flashed her a dazzling smile, put his hand up in a mock salute and clicked his heels together.
Tara’s hand clenched the door handle, nerves jangling with—what, exactly? Embarrassment? Anger? Definitely embarrassment. Show us what you’re made of? Sweet heavens above. It was more than clear the man was made of one part gorgeous to one part devil-may-care. She might have to rejig the ratios a bit but …
Unwilling to let him see her falter, Tara dropped her gaze to the floor. Despite herself, her ire disintegrated in an instant. Fraser’s socks had little cartoon snowmen dappled all over them. It was all she could do not to burst into giggles. Not that she was going to let him know he wasn’t the only one with a closet affection for the holidays.
C’mon Tara. Be fair. Give the guy a chance to explain himself.
To buy herself time, Tara allowed herself a cautious visual journey back up those long legs and well-muscled torso, landing straight on those perfectly blue eyes. It shocked her to realize she’d just ogled him. At close range. You’re a doctor, for heaven’s sake! Get a grip!
“I’ll tell you what.” Tara did her best to let the words trip out lightly. “Let’s meet for coffee at the café next door in an hour and I’ll talk you through how the clinic works.” Unable to resist a bit of a barb, she turned to face her nurse, “Liesel, can you let Dr. MacKenzie know where the outdoor shop is, please? He might find it a bit chilly to work out the season in his snowmen socks.”
Tara quickly entered the exam room before letting the full impact of Fraser MacKenzie’s tall, dark and ridiculously handsome looks sink in. Chestnut-brown hair with the perfect amount of salt and pepper at the temples. A pair of blue eyes that seemed backlit they were so bright. And the cheekbones. Knock-your-knees-out-from-under-you cheekbones. Her personal weakness.
For heaven’s sake! She felt jittery enough after their high-speed run-in on the slopes. Having to absorb the fact she’d somehow hired the living, breathing image of her fantasy man—complete with a sexy Scottish accent—was too much.
“Are you all right, Doctor?”
A young woman stood up from the exam-room chair and reached out an arm to Tara