Hockey Holidays

by Toni Aleo

  “Not at all.” I straightened, satisfied all was in order. “It’s clear you’re a very talented hockey player.”

  “Thank you.”

  His legs were still touching the outer curve of mine. Solid and strong, it wasn’t unpleasant.

  “I was hoping to impress you,” he said.

  “And why is that?”

  “You came to my rescue.” He set one hand on my waist, gently, and leaned close again. “When I hit the ice, it was you who was there when I came round.”

  Warmth from his palm penetrated my clothes and onto my skin. I stared at his handsome face, his cute smile, and then his stunning eyes I’d just been up close and personal with.

  “It’s my job,” I managed.

  “I get that, but still…you’re prettier than our usual medic.”

  “Your usual medic is my brother.” I flicked off my torch and stepped away. “Twin brother.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Ben is your twin?”

  “Yes.” I set the torch on the table and picked up the reflex hammer. “And because he’s on his honeymoon in”

  “South Africa, with Lisa. It was a bummer I couldn’t make their wedding. I hope they’re having an awesome time on safari. Have you heard from them?”

  I was surprised how much he knew about Ben. “Er, yes, not long ago. They’re having a great time.”

  “Good, they deserve it. Hey!”

  “Keep still.” I tapped his knee again.

  He chuckled. “Now what are you doing?”

  “Just checking…” I didn’t bother to explain; instead, I quickly checked his opposite patellar reflex. They were both fine.

  “And you don’t have a headache?”

  “Nope. No headache.” He stood, unfolding to his full height and towered over me.

  I looked from the hollow of his throat up at his face. “Any odd symptoms?” Why had the question sounded silly when I’d asked it a thousand times to a thousand different patients?

  “Sweetpea.” He set his hands on his hips, just over the roll of the towel. “Not that I’m complaining about your thoroughness, but do I look as if there’s anything wrong with me?”

  I dipped my gaze. His broad bare chest was only inches from mine. My nipples tightened, and a sudden image of being naked and pressed against him filled my mind.

  A flush of heat spread over my cheeks, and a little fizz of anticipation traveled up my spine.

  What are you doing?

  “No, Mr. Walker, you appear in excellent health.” I stepped away and dropped the reflex hammer into my bag. “Though any visual disturbances, headache, or nausea in the next few days should be checked out.”

  “I can do that, but I have another idea.”

  “What’s that?” I snapped my bag shut and turned to him.

  I caught my breath, surprised by how close he was. He’d moved quickly across the room.

  “You could be my personal medic. Stick with me and I’ll keep you informed of how I’m feeling on a minute to minute basis.”

  I raised my eyebrows, wondering what line he was going to come out with next.

  His sensual mouth curved into a smile. “Like literally, I’d tell you anything that crosses my mind.”

  “I’m not sure I’d want to know.”

  He laughed. “Seriously, how about that drink upstairs? It’ll be a good atmosphere.” He paused. “And it is Christmas.”

  “It’s not Christmas yet, and I have to be at the hospital early in the morning. I need to get home.”

  “Ah, the old ‘early start’ excuse.”

  “It’s not an excuse. I have to be in surgery at eight a.m. to perform a triple heart bypass on a forty-one-year-old who’s had a bunch of bad luck with his coronary arteries.”

  “Damn.” He scraped his hand through his hair, exposing dark underarm tufts. “That’s rough.”

  “It is, but hopefully I’ll be able to stop life being quite so rough for him in the future.” I stepped away. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Walker.”

  “Nathan. Call me Nathan.”

  I paused and glanced over my shoulder.

  He was looking at my ass.

  “Goodnight, Mr. Walker.”

  Chapter Three

  “Dr. Delaney, you’ve had a delivery.” My PA, Nicola, stood from behind her desk as I arrived at the surgical office suite.

  “I have?” Snapping the facemask from my neck, I tapped the bin with my toe and dropped it under the lid. “Thanks for coming in today, by the way, I really appreciate it.”

  “No problem. Saturday’s are all about sport in our family, so I’m happy to leave the boys to it.”

  “It’s a great help. The admin seems to be overflowing lately.” I paused. “Is the delivery the medical research papers I’ve been waiting for?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Definitely not research papers. Something else.” She grinned.

  “What then?” I wasn’t in the mood for guessing games. I’d spent six hours repairing a heart that had been stubborn about restarting, pushing even my normally unwavering nerves to breaking point. Finally it had, though, and the new vessels had filled well, the cardiac wall pinking up and beating strong.

  “Go and look.” She rubbed her hands together.

  I didn’t reply; instead, I strode into my office, my mind full of all the things I had to do.

  I was still wearing scrubs but I was hot, so the cool air-conditioning was welcome and I’d been looking forward to it. What I hadn’t expected was a huge bunch of white orchids amongst long black fronds on the middle of my desk. The display was so big it was blocking out the view of the Orlando skyline through the window and had completely hidden my leather chair—a birthday present from Ben. “What the…?”

  “Aren’t they gorgeous?” Nicola was at my side. “Came about an hour ago.”

  “Who from?”

  “I don’t know. I’m your PA, it’s not my place to open small silver envelopes arriving with flowers…at least not flowers like that!”

  “Envelope?” I spotted the card with the flowers. It stuck upward on a stick. Plucking it off, I quickly opened it. “Probably a grateful patient.”

  “A rich patient.” Nicola was at my shoulder.

  “Is there such a thing after the medical bills from here?”

  “True.”

  I pulled out the card.

  You missed a good party last night, sweetpea.

  Call me. We’ll have our own.

  897657648876

  Nathan W.

  I re-read it, then read it again. The nerve of the man!

  We’ll have our own.

  “Nathan W?” Nicola said, looking over my shoulder then pretending to be interested in straightening a stem. “Who’s that then?”

  “It’s a guy from last night, at the hockey game I covered for Ben.”

  “In the crowd?”

  “No, one of the players.”

  “Nathan W…” She rose her eyebrows, and her mouth fell open for a moment. “Nathan Walker. The Flash. Damn, he’s hot, girl!”

  I laughed at her slip from normal professionalism. “He banged his head. I had to check him out.”

  “I hope you did more than feel his skull.” Her cheeks turned crimson. “I’m sorry…that was out of line.”

  I laughed. “Don’t worry about it.” The moment of humor was a relief in an otherwise fraught day. “He was fine as it happened. But…”

  “But you made an impression on him. And let me tell you, there’s uglier guys in the league to make an impression on.”

  “That might be the case. But to quote my brother, he’s trouble.”

  “Yeah, red-hot trouble.” She grinned and squeezed my forearm. “And not likely to give up until you call that number.”

  “As if I have the time.”

  “Sophie…” She paused. Normally she’d call me Doctor Delaney. “It’s good to have a bit of fun after a long day. You know, de-stress.”

  “Are you suggest
ing I try de-stressing with a hockey player?”

  She hesitated, then pulled in a deep breath. “Yes, maybe I am, if that’s not too out of line.” She gestured to the door. “I have to get on with those out-patient letters.”

  “Yes, of course.”

  Left alone, I stroked over the petals of one of the orchids. It was the purest white and so soft I could barely feel it against my skin. They really were the most beautiful flowers I’d ever seen and definitely the most expensive. But then they were from an NHL player—Nathan Walker was hardly short of bucks.

  I sat at my desk and dragged over a file of notes. After picking up my pen, I sighed and started my next pile of work.

  Soon my head was full of patient details, diagnoses, and treatment. I answered two phone calls. Nicola brought in a coffee, which I drank, and she then removed the empty cup.

  Lost in a paper about a new material for heart valves, I was suddenly disturbed by a deep voice outside my office. I looked up as the door opened.

  Nicola stepped in wearing an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Dr. Delaney, there’s someone here to see you.”

  A big hand curled over her shoulder, and a huge bulk of a man moved in behind her. “Thanks, hon, I’ll take it from here.”

  Nathan Walker.

  What’s he doing here?

  I set down my pen and stared past the flowers at him.

  He wore a black polo and faded denims, and his hair, dry now, hung in soft strands over his brow, ears, and down his neck. He was grinning as he removed his shades, folded them, then tucked them into the neckline of his shirt.

  “Er, okay, Mr. Walker.” Nicola looked up at him and wrung her hands.

  Nathan flashed her a devilish smile and held the door open.

  When she’d stepped through it, he closed it with a soft click.

  “Can I help you?” I asked, standing.

  “Ah, they arrived.” He gestured to the flowers. “Do you like them?”

  “Yes, they’re beautiful, thank you. You didn’t need to.”

  “Sure I did. I made you stay late last night, when you had important work today.”

  “Well, yes, I guess you did do that.”

  “You read the card?”

  “Of course.”

  He pulled out his phone and made a show of checking the screen then flashing it my way. “Only I haven’t had a call from you.”

  “I’m working.”

  “But you would have called later, yeah, when you’d finished? Although by rights, most people have finished by this time of day.”

  “I’m not most people.”

  “I know that, it’s why I sent you flowers, sweetpea.”

  “It’s Dr. Delaney, actually, not sweetpea.”

  He walked to the window and looked out.

  Unable to help myself, I found my attention drawn to his butt. Of course, having seen him in all his naked glory, I could easily conjure the image of his body again, but his ass, I hadn’t had the pleasure of studying. It was high, a little round, and his jeans a fraction loose, which just piqued my curiosity all the more. Was the skin there golden like the rest of him, or lighter due to the lack of sun?

  “Great view,” he said.

  “Thank you. I like it.” I drew my gaze from his ass.

  He turned with his hands shoved into his pockets, dragging on his pants a little. “How did the triple bypass go?”

  I was surprised he’d remembered. “It was nerve-wracking for a while, but he should make a good recovery.”

  “And he’s being looked after here?”

  “Yes, in intensive care.”

  “And they’ll call you if there’s any change in his condition?”

  “Of course. If any of my patients have issues my immediate team can’t handle, I get a call.”

  “Good, that means you’ll be able to come for a drink with me without worrying. There’s a nice little bar on the other side of the lot.”

  Go for a drink with him?

  “I have work to do and I don’t drink.”

  “Ah, come on, it’s Saturday, and they serve cola.”

  “I’m sorry, but no.” I moved toward the door. He needed to go before I started having thoughts of being naked with him again. “Thank you for the flowers, they’re beautiful, but—”

  “Don’t brush me off.” He was suddenly right in front of me, huge and looming.

  He stepped closer still, filling my vision.

  I backed away. My shoulders hit the wall, and I looked up at him. Once again, the blueness of his eyes stole my breath. “What are you doing?” I did my best to sound stern, but the truth was I’d had a hit of his delicately spiced aftershave and it had traveled up my nose and laced my tongue, making me wonder what he’d be like to kiss, lick, suck…

  Sophie, stop it.

  “This,” he said, placing his palms on the wall either side of my head. “Is called a date trap.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “It means I’m staying like this until you agree to come out with me. One drink, that’s all.”

  “I’m sure you have plenty of girls you could take out.”

  “I want to take you out.”

  “And you always get what you want?”

  He grinned. “Absolutely.”

  I frowned and locked my knees. Standing so close to him, being hemmed in by his big arms and bulging biceps was doing strange things to my body. Heat was swarming over my skin and tickling through my scalp, and my breasts were tingling. “I really can’t.”

  “No one is so busy they can’t have an hour off on the Saturday night before Christmas.”

  “I am.”

  He narrowed his eyes and tipped his head. “There’s plenty of dark corners over there at the bar. We can find one and sit, just the two of us.”

  “What makes you think I want to find a dark corner with you?”

  “I never said you did, only if you were worried about me being recognized and you being linked to a Viper player…”

  “Why would that bother me?”

  He leaned a little closer, so close I could make out every individual bit of stubble on his chin. “Super brainy doctors don’t usually date jocks.”

  “Maybe there’s a reason for that.”

  Amusement flashed over his eyes, and his lips curled into a slight grin. “Oh yeah, what’s that?”

  Damn. I couldn’t think of any. All I could do was stare at his mouth and wonder why I was allowing him to keep me trapped against the wall.

  “The reason?” he asked again.

  “I…I…”

  “And it’s not like you wouldn’t know what you’re getting, sweatpea, you saw the goods last night. A try before you buy, wouldn’t you say.”

  “Mr. Walker, it’s really not professional for me to date you.” I placed my hands on his chest and pushed, trying to ignore the thick, hard muscle beneath his top. “And I have no interest in buying, as you put it.”

  He stepped away and let his gaze drift down my body.

  I realized I was breathing fast, my breasts rising and falling beneath my scrub top. “I really should be getting on.”

  “The problem is,” he said. “I’ve got this terrible headache.”

  I paused and watched him rub his temples and screw up his eyes.

  “And this nausea.” He bent forward as though in pain.

  “You have?”

  “Yeah, I’m worried it’s from that bump last night, against the Plexi.” He straightened and shrugged. “You told me to seek medical attention if I got symptoms.”

  I frowned. “Really?”

  “Yeah, really.”

  “Okay. Sit down, and I’ll check you over. We’ll get you down to radiology if necessary.”

  He took a seat in my leather chair. Like the night before, he sat with his legs apart, though at least this time he was wearing more than a towel.

  I dipped into my bag for my torch. Damn, it wasn’t there. I must have left it at the stadium in the
locker room. I’d have to find a way to get it back.

  Quickly, I found a spare in the desk drawer and stepped up to him. There was something very intimate about moving between his thighs to examine him. “Look straight ahead.”

  He did as I’d asked. “I know why I feel like this,” he said, his inner legs touching mine as he drew them together lightly.

  “Why?”

  “I’m love sick. There’s this pretty doctor who keeps blowing me off, and it’s worse than any slam onto the ice.”

  I paused and studied his face.

  He doesn’t have a headache.

  “There’s nothing wrong with you,” I said. “Is there?”

  He set his hands on my waist.

  The material of my scrubs suddenly felt super thin and his palms on me incredibly sensual. It was so long since I’d been touched by a man.

  “There’s nothing wrong with my head, no, just my heart. But you’re a heart doctor so you could fix that.” He sat forward in the chair. “One drink, that’s all. I’ll either be cured or judged to be a lost cause. Whatever your diagnosis, I promise to accept it.”

  “You’re very persistent, you know that?”

  Step away, Sophie. What are you doing?”

  “Don’t get to be a top scorer in the league by not being persistent and determined, much like you don’t get to be a top cardio-thoracic surgeon by not being thorough.” His fingers tightened a fraction on my waist. “I guess it’s a case of which one of us will crack first.”

  Damn it.

  “Okay, okay, one drink.”

  He released me and grinned, a big cheesy smile that screamed triumph. “Good, let’s go.”

  “No, not yet, I have things to finish off.” I stepped away and swapped the torch for my pen.

  “So when?”

  “In about two hours.” I gestured to the desk. Perhaps that would put him off. “I need to clear this pile of paperwork.”

  “No problem. I’ll wait.”

  “You can’t wait in here.”

  He chuckled. “I don’t intend to wait in here.”

  “So I’ll meet you at the bar?” What the hell was I doing? I’d planned to soak in the tub, enjoy an hour reading, then have an early night.

  “Nah.” He stepped toward the door. “Come find me on ward eight.”