The Army Doc's Christmas Angel. Annie O'Neil
needed comforting. It would be like skipping up to a hungry grizzly bear and asking if he minded if they shared a den. Not. Going. To. Happen.
He had his hand on her elbow and was filling up the rest of the space in the doorframe.
There it was again. That cotton and forest scent. And something extra. She looked up into his slate-colored eyes as if they would give her the answer she needed.
Her heart pounded against her ribcage when it did.
That other scent?
Pure male heat.
* * *
Naomi scooped her keys off the ground for a second time.
What had got into her?
She blew out a slow breath, waited until the cloud dissipated, then put the key in the lock and turned it.
See? There.
All she needed to do was blank any thoughts of Finn Morgan and—Doh!
There went the keys again. At least she was inside this time.
She jogged up the stairs to her flat, opened the interior door, flicked on the lights and popped her keys into the wooden bowl that rested on the small table she had at the front door.
Home.
She grinned at it.
The studio flat was dinky, but she loved it. Her cocoon. A twenty-minute walk from the hospital. Fifty if she took a run along the river on the way, which, let’s face it, was every day. Going to the river had become a bit of a pilgrimage. If only one day she would come back from the river and find everything was—
If only nothing.
She toed off her trainers—against her own advice!—and pushed her door shut with her elbow.
Brightly lit. Simply furnished. Secure. Two floors above a bookshop/coffee shop that catered to students and, as such, was open all night. All the things she needed to get to sleep at night.
She shrugged out of her padded gilet then pulled her hoodie, her long-sleeved T-shirt and her wool camisole off, all but diving into her flannel jimjams that she’d laid out on the radiator when she’d left in the morning.
The one thing about England she’d failed to get used to was the cold. This winter was particularly frigid. Rumors of a white Christmas were swirling around the hospital like...like snowflakes.
She gave herself a wry grin in the bathroom mirror as she let warm water run over her freezing fingers. At least the sub-zero temperatures helped keep her heart on ice.
She shivered, thinking of that hot, intense flare of heat she’d seen in Finn’s normally glacial gaze.
Did it mean that he...? No. The man was like a snapping turtle. Don’t do this. Do that. Not here. There. Me right. You wrong.
She thought of his athletic build, his bear-like presence. Maybe he was more... Abominable Snowman than snapping turtle. Could one make love to a yeti?
She gave her head a shake. Clearly she’d lost a few brain cells on the cold walk home. Even if Finn wrapped a ribbon round his heart and handed it to her on a velvet cushion... Pah-ha-ha-ha! Can you imagine?
She tugged on her wool-lined slipper boots, padded across to her tiny strip of a kitchen and opened the fridge.
Yup! Forgot to go shopping. Again.
She stared at the handful of condiments she’d bought in yet another failed moment of “I’ll invite someone over” and wondered what it would be like to open up her fridge and know that she’d be making a meal for herself and her family. She closed the refrigerator door along with the thoughts.
Being in a relationship wasn’t on the cards for her. Each time she’d tried...whoomp. Up had gone the shields holding court round her heart.
She laughed into the silence of her flat.
At last! She’d found something she and Finn had in common.
Now all she had to do was find a way to get along.
“DID YOU MANAGE to get some sleep?” Finn looked over at Adao’s case worker from the charity when all he elicited from the little boy was an uncertain mini-shrug.
“He slept a little.” She gave the boy’s creased forehead a soothing stroke with the backs of her fingers before crossing to him and holding out a sheaf of paperwork. “I’m Sarah Browning, by the way. I’m afraid we’re short-staffed and I’ve got to get a move on.” Her features creased apologetically.
Finn nodded and took the paperwork. “Not a problem. We’ve got plenty of folk who are looking forward to spending time with this little guy. Myself included.” He looked over at Adao for any sign of emotional response.
Nothing.
Hardly surprising considering what he’d been through. It was a shame the charity’s financial reach couldn’t have extended to bringing at least one of the family members over. Then again...from what he’d read prior to the boy’s arrival, both the mum and dad worked and his teenage sister was still in school, so...not easy to uproot an entire family.
He slapped the papers against his thigh. Too loudly, from the sharp look the charity worker sent him.
“Right.” Finn gave Sarah his best stab at a smile. “Looks like you need to get a move on and I need to assess Adao before we get him into surgery this afternoon.”
He went to the doorway and called to the small team of doctors and nurses who would be in surgery with him. “Righto, mateys. Let’s get a move on, shall we?” A twinge of déjà vu hit him as the team moved toward the door as one solid mass. Naomi had been right. Too many people standing around Adao might render the kid less responsive than he already was.
“Hey, mate.” He looked Adao in the eye. “We’ve got a bunch of people who are going to come in, but they’re all here to help you, yeah? We’re all on your side.”
The little boy pursed his lips and then nodded. He understood. He didn’t like it. But it wasn’t exactly as if he was in a position to argue.
Finn’s heart went out to the little man, but he needed to keep his cool. Clean, clear precision was what was required when he stepped into surgery today. Anything less wasn’t acceptable.
Finn went out into the corridor as the team crowded into the smallish room to hear the details of Adao’s case and help set up a battle plan for the afternoon’s surgery.
Battle plan.
The cruel irony of it...
He heard a laugh and his eyes snapped to the nurses’ station. The hairs on his arms prickled to attention and a deep punch of heat rocket-launched itself exactly where it didn’t belong.
Dammit.
Last night’s gym session clearly hadn’t drilled his body’s organic response to her out of his system.
Who knew a woman’s scent could linger in the physio gym hours after she’d left the hospital?
He did, that’s who. He didn’t know if she wore perfume or body spray or what...he just knew that jasmine and vanilla were forever lost to him as plain old smells now.
“Mr. Morgan? I was wondering if I could have a quick word.”
“Yes?” Grabbing his work tablet from the counter, he looked back up at her then instantly regretted it. Those dark eyes of hers were blinking away his brusque greeting as her hands rose to tug on each of her loosely woven, below-the-shoulder plaits.
They made her look fun.
And sexy as hell.
“Hi.