Stranger In Her Arms. Lorna Michaels

      “Don’t know, except for falling at your feet.”

      “Yeah,” Christy muttered. “You did do that.” If he hadn’t, she’d have had him out of her house in minutes, and then she’d have missed:

      Didn’t matter. Here she was, and here he was. “Let’s go see if the doctor’s in,” she said.

      They found Dr. Tom Mayes’s waiting room filled with patients and his receptionist’s chair empty. They rang the bell and waited at the window. After a few minutes, the doctor bustled out of an examining room, followed by a young woman with a whimpering toddler. “You just give him a couple of baby aspirin every few hours, Amanda, and he’ll be fine.”