It's Only You. Sheryl Lister
“No. An emergency room nurse.” She led him past a half-full waiting room to the back.
“Simona, what are you still doing here? I thought you were off,” a nurse said as they entered a treatment room.
“I am. Is there a doctor available? I think he’s going to need stitches.” Simona usually assisted the doctor with the minor procedure, but with the way her hands were shaking she’d probably do more harm than good.
“I’ll go find somebody.” The woman hurried off.
“Have a seat, and let’s see if I can get this bleeding to stop. Then I’ll clean it up and put something on this burn.”
He sat on the examination table. “I still don’t think you need to go through all this trouble.” He caught her hand as she took a step. “I’m more concerned about you. Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe we should have the doctor check you out. After all, you did almost lose your life to a coffee cart, and I noticed you rubbing your hip.”
She gasped softly. His gentle touch and soothing, deep voice sent a wave of heat through her body. Simona lifted her head and couldn’t stop staring at him. In the hall, she had been too distracted to focus on his features, but he was easily the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on. His clean-shaven walnut-colored face, close-cropped hair and light brown eyes nearly took her breath away, tempting her to reach up and run her hands across the smooth, defined planes. She shook off the dangerous thought, reminding herself to behave like a professional. “Really, I’m fine, Mister...um...I’m sorry, what’s your name?”
He held her eyes intently. “Donovan. Donovan Wright. And you?”
“Simona Andrews.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Simona.”
Her name flowed from his lips like a gentle caress, and her pulse skipped when his mouth inched up in a sexy smile, revealing a dimple in his left cheek. Focus, Simona! “I’m so sorry you got hurt, and...and look at your shirt. It’s ruined. I’ll replace it.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
He lifted his arm at the same time as she reached for his sleeve and their hands touched again, inflaming her senses once more. She withdrew quickly, turned and grabbed a pair of gloves from the box on the wall. The gloves might protect her from any potential diseases, but not from the awareness flowing between her and this man.
She inspected the burn. There was redness and swelling. Simona noticed the bleeding had slowed from the cut, but handed him some gauze to apply pressure to the wound and put an ice pack on the burn. She pulled the computer stand over to take a medical history. He was thirty-five years old, six feet two inches tall, and weighed one eighty-five. Recalling his agility and strength when he kept her from falling, and how his hard body felt pressed against hers, she could add that he was in excellent shape.
The doctor arrived shortly after, donned a pair of gloves and introduced himself as Dr. Cortez. “Mr. Wright, can you please remove your arm from the sleeve?” He examined the cut and determined that Donovan’s wound required stitches. Then he checked the burn. “I don’t think the burn is going to blister.”
Simona stood transfixed by the sculpted muscles in Donovan’s arm and chest. Their eyes met, and he smiled knowingly. Simona turned away and busied herself with assisting the doctor.
“What are you still doing here, Ms. Andrews?” Dr. Cortez asked as he applied a local anesthetic.
She told him what happened in the hallway.
“Were you hurt?”
“No. I’m fine, thanks to Mr. Wright.”
“Mr. Wright, I’m very grateful you were here.”
“So am I,” Mr. Wright murmured, angling his head her way.
Pretending to be busy, she refused to meet his gaze directly.
Gathering his supplies, Dr. Cortez worked quickly. Once the wound was closed and covered with a large gauze bandage, the doctor applied an ointment to the burn then stripped off his gloves. “You’ll need to keep that dry for the next forty-eight hours and have the stitches removed in ten days. I’ll give you a prescription for the ointment. Apply it three times a day. When was your last tetanus shot?”
“I don’t remember. It’s been a while.”
“More than ten years?” When Donovan nodded, he said, “You’ll need to get one. I’ll call one of the nurses to take care of it.”
“I’ll do it,” Simona said.
The doctor nodded. “Mr. Wright, thank you again. Consider your bill paid in full.”
“Thanks, Dr. Cortez.”
After the doctor left, they stared at each other in silence. Simona was so busy gawking that it took her a moment to remember she was supposed to be giving him a tetanus shot. “I’ll be right back.”
“Okay.”
As soon as she stepped out of the room, two nurses rushed over and asked about what happened. Apparently news traveled fast. After recounting the story two more times, she said, “I really need to get back to my patient.”
Before returning, she ducked into an empty room. Knowing she had only a minute, she pulled out her cell and dialed. “Hey, Eve.”
“Hi, Simona. What’s up? I thought you were getting off at eleven.”
“I was. I can’t go into it right now, but I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“No problem. I’m just sitting here working on my essay. Are you okay?”
Simona blew out a long breath. “Yeah. How is she?”
“Sleeping peacefully. Everything is fine.”
“You’re a lifesaver, Eve. I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.”
Simona didn’t know how she would have managed over the past four weeks without her neighbor’s help. She didn’t easily trust, but Eve Thompson, with her direct speech and compassionate heart, had won Simona over almost immediately.
She disconnected, put the phone in her pocket and retraced her steps to where Donovan waited, stopping first at the cabinet where medications were stored and reminding herself to remain professional.
* * *
Donovan sat on the examination table thinking about Simona. Earlier, his concern had been for her safety. Now, in the light and with the threat removed, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. She was stunning. Braids swept up into a ponytail that gave him an unobstructed view of her coffee-with-cream complexion, wide dark brown eyes and bow-shaped lips, perfect for kissing.
He shook his head. Damn, I must be tired. No, if he were honest, fatigue had nothing to do with it. He was attracted to his nurse, plain and simple. He lifted his left arm, studied the dressing and shook his head. Donovan looked up when Simona entered the room with a syringe and sheet of paper on a tray.
She handed him the paper. “Here’s the prescription for the ointment.”
“Thanks.”
“It’s really late, so let’s finish up and get you out of here,” Simona said. “Which arm would you prefer? You might have some pain and stiffness for a couple of days, as well as some redness or swelling.”
“May as well do it in the left. No sense in having both arms messed up,” he said wryly.
Soft laughter escaped her lips.
The warm sound filled the room, and the shy smile curving her mouth did something to his insides. Despite her flustered state earlier, she was now poised and in control.
She swabbed the area with alcohol and injected him. “Okay. All done. You