Socialite...Or Nurse In A Million?. Molly Evans
personally. Each loss was one patient he’d never get back and meant the kind of endless suffering of a family that he knew all too well.
Looking at Vicky, he realized she was very observant and a little too insightful for his tastes at the moment. He’d do well to watch where those blue eyes roamed. A long time ago he might have been susceptible to their allure, but not now. For the sake of his career and community, his focus had to stay right where it was. No distractions allowed. Not even one as tempting as Victoria Sterling-Thorne. Not that he had any business associating with someone from her walk of life anyway. Worlds apart, though they lived only miles apart.
“My brother owns his own business, so I know a little about it. All work and no play usually makes people very unhappy.”
He thought of his family and the Sunday dinners, baptisms, weddings and other gatherings that he missed on a regular basis. He had been close to his family, but the kind of work he had dedicated himself to came at a price. Unfortunately, his family paid it for him. He had so much to make up for, he knew he’d never live long enough to make things right with them. His family had never blamed him for Emilio’s death, though it might have been easier on him if they had. Pushing back those thoughts, he escorted her to the door. “It works this way for me.” He didn’t want to admit aloud that it might not be the complete truth.
“You’ve hired me full-time, but how many hours do you put in per week?”
“I don’t keep track.” If he did, he’d have to take a long, hard look at what he was doing with his life, and he didn’t want to go there. This was all he deserved. It was his fault that Emilio had died. End of story. Turning away from her momentarily, he hung his lab coat on the back of a door. “Ready?”
“Thanks.” She proceeded out the door ahead of him. As she walked past, he caught a whiff of her perfume, a sweet but spicy mix, not too heavy, and very enticing. It reminded him of sandalwood and musk. Through the course of the day he’d been close enough to catch it, but now it seemed to be hooked deeply into his brain. He’d know that sweet and exotic scent anywhere now.
“I’m sorry if I offended you, Dr. Torres,” she said, and shoved her hands into her pockets. As she spoke, she kept her eyes averted from him. “It wasn’t my intention.”
“It’s Miguel, and you can’t offend me.” He’d been through so much over the years that life had hardened him to insult or injury with mere words, and he had the scars to prove it. Offend him? Not a chance.
Her head snapped up, and she looked closely at him, peering into his eyes as if looking for something that simply wasn’t there. “I find that hard to believe. We all react to things. Things can hurt us if we let them.”
“Then it’s simple. I don’t let them.” He’d walk her to her car, ensure that she got safely away and go home. Discussions of emotions weren’t on the agenda for this evening.
She let that comment go, but he could see that she didn’t like the answer or believe it.
In silence they walked to her car at the far end of the parking lot, and she gasped. “Oh. There’s a dent in the door.” She leaned over to examine it and unknowingly gave him a lovely view of her equally lovely backside.
As a professional, he knew he should avert his eyes and focus on the car door, but some deep-seated male instinct allowed him one last wistful glance before he stooped beside her to examine the damage. He pressed his fingers to the dent. It looked as if someone had opened a door onto hers and caused the dent. “Cars aren’t made the way they used to be. Sometimes the wind can take a door and throw it pretty hard.” He looked over at her. “Sorry about that. Maybe the parking garage down the street would be a better option.”
Though her car wasn’t a showpiece, it was new and it showed.
“Nice idea, but it hardly does any good now.”
The frown between her eyes made him want to do something to fix the situation. He was a doctor and a man and that was what he did. He fixed things. Running his fingers over the dent again, an idea surfaced. “Stay here for a minute. I’ll be right back.”
“Why? Do you have a dent-fixing kit in the clinic?”
“No, but I might be able to help.” Despite his misgivings about Vicky, he couldn’t not help her. It just wasn’t in him to walk away from any situation that he could possibly fix, no matter what his personal feelings.
“I’ll still have to take it to the shop, won’t I?” she asked, worry clouding her eyes.
“Give me a minute, okay?” In just a few minutes he strolled across the parking lot back to Vicky and her pricey dent.
“What are you going to do?”
He swung the plunger off his shoulder to show her. “I’m going to apply a little physics to see if it will reverse your situation.”
“With a plunger?” The expression on her face was full of understandable doubt. She raised her brows and stepped back. “I’ve got to see this.”
“You’ll learn to get creative if you work around here long enough.” Turning to the car, he placed the plunger in the center of the dent and secured a good seal. Then he slowly pulled. The dent popped back into place with a thud, and Vicky jumped at the sound.
“You did it!” she said, and in her excitement clutched his arm with her hand. “I can’t believe you did it with a plunger, of all things. I never would have thought of that.”
A grin he couldn’t suppress surged across his face at her contagious enthusiasm. He didn’t know plumbing supplies could so easily please someone. The warmth in his chest was a puzzling sensation, one he hadn’t felt for a long time. And one he couldn’t afford to feel now. Stowing the pleasure at her reaction in a compartment deep inside, he nodded. “Well, there you go. Newton’s third law in action.”
“Equal and opposite forces, right?” She was nearly giddy in her excitement.
In the dim twilight he could see her sparkling eyes, and his gaze dropped to her mouth. It was curved upward, and her full, sensual lips were made for a man to kiss, to lose himself in, and forget the troubles of the day. Some part of him yearned to respond to that, but he couldn’t. Not now. Probably not ever, and he pushed away the desire to do so. He needed her as a nurse, not a lover. This was strictly a hands-off relationship, so he changed the subject and gave his libido a kick in the shins.
“You obviously paid attention in physics.”
“A little, but it’s really not my forte.” She gave a quick laugh then released his arm, and he could draw a full breath again. “Thanks so much, Miguel. This saves me a trip to the shop. I always feel so stupid when I go there.”
“You’re welcome. And you should never feel stupid. You’re bright.” Very—and he’d do well to remember that.
“Thanks.” She dropped her chin and looked away. “My family doesn’t particularly think so.”
“I’d say that’s their problem, then, not yours.” He took a safe step back from her, removed the plunger from the door, then opened it for her. “Still willing to tackle this job?”
“Absolutely.”
“Then I’ll see you in the morning.”
Before she got in, she glanced around. “I just noticed that there’s no other vehicle around. Where’s yours? Dent-free in the garage?”
“I usually walk. Burns off the day for me.” And the ghosts that haunted him every waking moment. No walk would be long enough to outdistance them.
“Do you want a lift?” she asked, and got into the vehicle. “Be happy to.”
“No, thanks. The air will do me good.” He closed the door and watched as the most intriguing woman he’d met in a very long time waved then drove away. Intriguing, yes. Within the scope of attainment? Not even on a good