by Debra Webb
The sound of his ragged exhale snapped her out of the trance he’d lured her into. She jerked out of his hold and quickly assessed her appearance. She righted the wide neckline that had slipped off one shoulder to reveal her bra strap. The skirt of her dress was ripped up one side, showing off most of her right thigh.
She clutched the ripped fabric together and glared at Hank. “Where’s Melissa?”
He hooked his thumb toward his house. “She went inside to get a drink.”
“Doesn’t this town have a leash law?”
“I wouldn’t know, I don’t have a dog.”
“Well someone should complain about the one lurking around your yard.” Donna glowered at him once more and then stamped off in the direction of his back door. Melissa bounded out and down the steps.
“Mommy! Mommy, I can play football. Mr. Hank taught me!”
Donna forced a smile for her daughter. “I’m glad you had fun, sweetie, but we really have to go now.” She stroked Melissa’s wind-tousled hair.
A frown creased her little forehead. “Did you forget me today?”
Donna’s heart twisted painfully. Forgetting the rip in her dress, she lifted Melissa into her arms. “No, sweetie, I would never forget you. Aunt Patty and I just got our wires crossed. I thought she was picking you up, and she thought I was.” She hugged her baby as tight as she dared without alarming her. “I’m sorry. It won’t ever happen again.”
“It’s okay.” Melissa pulled back to look at her. “I’ve been having fun with Mr. Hank.”
Donna reluctantly turned to him. “Thank you, Mr. Bradley, for taking care of Melissa. I apologize for the inconvenience.”
“It wasn’t a problem. We’ve had a blast.” He chucked Melissa on the chin.
“We’re gonna eat now, Mommy,” Melissa told her excitedly. “You can eat, too.”
“Oh, no, sweetie. We’ve put Mr. Bradley to too much trouble as it is. We have to go home.”
“But he cooked it specially for me,” she pleaded.
How was she going to get out of this one? Donna shook her head. “We really have to go.”
“Melissa’s right,” Hank said quietly. “We grilled burgers. Everything’s ready. You’re welcome to stay.”
“I don’t think so,” Donna said carefully without looking at him.
“But, Mommy, I helped cook it. We gotta help eat it! My burger has a smiley face.”
Donna admitted defeat. How could she say no? Melissa would be too disappointed. “Okay, but only for a few minutes.”
“Yippee!” Melissa wiggled from Donna’s arms and rushed back into the house.
Hank extended his hand in invitation for Donna to precede him. “We decided to eat inside out of the heat.”
She nodded and headed that way. The house was nothing like she’d expected. The neatness she had fully anticipated judging by the exterior, but the decor was a complete surprise. Old fashioned, comfortable-looking furniture filled the place. Melissa gave her a guided tour, repeating what Donna presumed to be Hank’s words verbatim. Like the man, the house exuded charm.
“Nice place,” Donna said when she and Melissa had at last rejoined him in the kitchen. The spread included soft drinks, chips, burgers, and the fixings. Donna suddenly realized she hadn’t eaten since breakfast. She was starved.
“Thanks.” Hank flashed her one of those heart-stopping smiles and then pulled a chair out for her. Donna took the offered seat. Melissa scrambled into the seat on the other side of Hank.
“I grew up in this house,” he said. “My parents retired to Florida several years ago, so when I moved back here I took over the old homestead.”
“I had the feeling the decorating wasn’t single-male.”
“No.” He lifted one dark eyebrow and grinned rakishly. “It’s compliments of Ellen Bradley.” Affection radiated from his handsome features.
“Do you have any brothers and sisters?” Donna took a bite of her burger. The taste exploded in her mouth and she almost groaned with pleasure. God, the man could cook.
Hank grinned. “Burgers are my specialty.”
“Hmm. I can believe it,” she said between bites.
“No brothers and sisters,” he said in answer to her question. “How about you? Any others besides Patty?”
Donna shook her head and then swallowed. “Just me and Patty. Mom and Dad died in an automobile accident almost eight years ago.”
Hank looked sympathetic. “That’s tough. You were young?”
“My first year of med school.”
“Mr. Hank used to be the Nike man,” Melissa interjected, obviously proud of her knowledge where Hank was concerned.
Donna shot Hank a properly impressed look. “Oh, really. The Nike man?”
“I’ve had my share of endorsements, and Nike happened to be one of them.” Hank pushed his food around on his plate. “But that was a long time ago.”
“You miss the notoriety?” Dread planted itself deep inside her chest.
Hank inspected a potato chip front and back, and then tossed it back onto his plate before he allowed his eyes to meet hers. He cocked his head toward one shoulder in a semblance of a shrug. “Not really.”
Donna’s chest constricted as that seed of dread sprouted into full bloom. Happy-go-lucky Hank Bradley wasn’t so happy after all.
“Are you married, Mr. Hank?” Melissa asked during the strained silence that followed.
“Melissa!” Donna scolded, heat surging up her neck and across her cheeks.
Hank grinned and his somberness of only moments ago vanished. “It’s okay,” he assured Donna and then turned to Melissa. “No, I’m not. Are you in the market for a husband, squirt?”
Melissa shook her head adamantly. “Nope,” she said with a giggle. Her face turned acutely serious then. “I’m looking for a daddy.”
Chapter Six
High noon on Tuesday and the clinic’s open house was a bust so far. Three people had dropped by for the tour and free refreshments. So much for getting off to a good start, Donna sighed. Watching Patty scurry around the refreshment table arranging and rearranging made Donna want to shout, “Sit down, you make me nervous with all that fidgeting!” But, she didn’t.
The only moments of excitement they had experienced the entire morning was during Donna’s opening speech at nine. She’d forgotten about the train so she’d had to wait out the rumble before finishing. No one else seemed to notice. They munched on cookies and talked among themselves as if nothing was amiss. Then, a little later, the second bit of excitement had manifested itself in a long-legged blonde who turned out to be the principal, Cynthia Masters. Somewhere between forty and forty-five, Donna estimated, the undeniably gorgeous woman sported a body that would make a twenty year old envious. Watching her move through the clinic was like observing the sleek, fluid movements of a panther. Five minutes in the woman’s presence and Donna knew without a doubt that Cynthia Masters had designs on Hank Bradley. She sure had an odd way of trying to get his attention.
The image of those long shapely legs wrapped around Hank Bradley’s athletic form flashed into Donna’s mind. She shuddered and pushed away the disturbing picture. She refused to consider why the image disturbed her so.
As Hank predicted, Masters had been on a fishing expedition. She’d wanted Donna’s opinion on the situation with Chip Stevens. She didn’t like the answer she’d gotten, and the lady had left the clinic in a snit. Donna told herself that she hadn’t derived any pleasure from the incident, but she had. It pleased her immensely to antagonize the woman.
Donna recognized her reaction to Masters wasn’t a good sign. Hank Bradley could fight his own battles. Personally, Donna couldn’t see how he tolerated the woman. But, then, that was his problem. She had no intention of spending one more minute thinking about either.
Right. Her house fairly sparkled this morning. She had worked herself within an inch of her life half the night last night and still thoughts of him plagued her. The sound of his voice
, low and masculine. The dazzling blue of his eyes. His scent...sexy and exciting. Donna felt herself melting as she envisioned hard muscle and hot kisses. Watching him frolic with Melissa and then during that little dinner they shared had weakened her resolve. The combination of blatant cockiness and hidden vulnerability made him impossibly appealing. She would have to be extremely careful. She was definitely treading on shaky ground.
“Snap out of it, Donna, our open house is about to take a turn for the better.”
Donna jerked back to attention. “What?” It took her a full five seconds to separate from the memory of Hank Bradley.
Patty cleared her throat and motioned insistently for Donna to stand. Donna looked from Patty to the door. To her surprise it opened and people poured into the lobby. She exchanged a disbelieving look with Patty. Donna jumped to her feet and went into presentation mode. She led the group through the clinic for the official tour, while Patty served the refreshments.
Donna smiled as she responded to request after request for medical advice on various ailments. Prospective patients wanted to know what she thought about their latest complaint. Whatever Donna said would no doubt be compared to what Dr. So-and-so said.
Before the group dispersed, another came through the door. Patty kept the refreshments flowing and Donna did the entertaining. For the rest of the afternoon a steady stream of visitors flowed through the clinic. Apparently news had spread around this end of the county.
“I can’t believe it.” Patty scurried around the lobby, picking up and tidying. “We’re a hit.”
“Don’t get too excited yet.” Donna reached for a napkin on the floor. “We were giving away stuff today. Tomorrow we’ll expect to get paid for our company. We won’t be so popular then.”
“Don’t be a spoil sport.” Patty whisked the napkin from Donna’s hand. “Besides we have no competition. The nearest doctor is in Winchester.”
“You’ve got a point there.”
The door burst open. “We need to see the doctor!” A frightened woman clutching a toddler to her chest rushed across the lobby.
“What happened?” Donna’s gaze moved over the sobbing child for signs of injury. There was blood. The child was bleeding.
“He fell on a glass and cut his arm bad. He’s bled something awful.”
“This way.” Donna was already heading down the hall toward the first exam room. “See if he’ll let you put him down.” She nodded toward the examination table as she washed her hands.
The woman eased the wailing child onto the table. He clutched at his mother with his good arm.
Donna slipped on a pair of disposable gloves as she approached the crying child. He clung to his mother for protection. God, how she hated to see a child in pain.
“What’s your name, Mom?” Donna asked the child’s mother.
“Jenkins. Lilah Jenkins,” the woman replied, a tremor in her voice.
“And what’s this fine young man’s name?” Donna glanced at Mrs. Jenkins. Tears slid down the woman’s ashen cheeks.
“Timmy,” her voice cracked.
“Hey, Timmy.” Donna eased the bloody hand towel from his arm. “Hold still now and let me take a look at you.” He resisted at first but then allowed Donna to take his trembling hand in hers. A jagged cut on his forearm still oozed blood.
“Now, that doesn’t look too bad. I’ll have you all fixed up in no time at all.” Donna smiled at the child and gave his mother a reassuring look. “You’re going to be just fine.”
“Is Timmy allergic to any medications?” she asked his mother.
“Not as far as I know, Doctor.” Her voice was steadier now.
“Okie dokie. Let’s get you patched up, Timmy. Mrs. Jenkins held his arm firmly in place while Donna applied the anesthetic. Timmy’s frantic cries broke Donna’s heart.
“That’s the worst part, I promise,” Donna told him softly. His little tear-stained face showed no signs of being convinced.
“I’ll bet you didn’t know that I once met Big Bird, did you Timmy?” she asked, trying to distract him.
He shook his head almost imperceptibly.
“Well, I did.” Donna smiled down at the little boy. “I worked at a big hospital in a big city. Big Bird came by to visit the children who were in the pediatric ward. Do you like Big Bird?”
He bobbed his head up and down with a little more enthusiasm.
“Me too.” Donna gingerly washed the wound and checked for glass fragments.
She continued her Big Bird story while she sutured. By the time she pulled the last suture through, Timmy had relaxed and his tears had dried. For his bravery, he received a sticker and a sugar-free lollipop.
Patty scheduled a follow-up appointment and obtained the appropriate insurance information while Donna cleaned up the exam room and then retreated to her office.
No matter how often she faced it, the difficulty of watching a child suffer never lessened. Hard as she tried not to, she imaged Melissa in the same circumstances. Donna closed her eyes and relaxed.
“Donna!”
“Hmm?” She forced her eyes open as Patty stuck her head into the office.
“You have another patient.”
“Really?” Donna got to her feet. Two patients the first day? They were on a roll.
“Hank Bradley,” Patty announced.
“Who?” Donna repeated, hoping she had heard wrong.
“The jock,” Patty clarified. “He’s in two.”
Donna could’ve done without the smugness. Patty disappeared up the hall. Donna took a deep breath, smoothed a hand over her French braid and headed toward exam room two.
What could be ailing him? He looked as healthy as the proverbial horse last night. Maybe a virus or bug of some sort. Even big, tough guys like him got those. I will not react to him, Donna promised herself as she took the few steps necessary to reach the examination room.
She pulled the new file labeled “Hank Bradley” from the drop box hanging on the wall next to the door.
Almost thirty-one, she noted as she scanned the general information form. Six feet two inches tall. One hundred ninety pounds. Donna fidgeted with the collar of her white cotton blouse as she read over his medical history. No previous medical problems, except a knee injury. No medication. Family medical history looked good.
Donna closed the file and fanned herself. Is it hot in here or is it just me? She definitely needed to check the thermostat. Maybe the central air had gone on the blink. That would be just her luck.
“Okay, Doctor Jacobs, let’s get this over with,” she muttered. Donna grasped the doorknob and clenched her jaw. He’s a patient. Just another patient. She swung the door open and breezed into the room, pretending to be engrossed in his medical file.
“Hello, Mr. Bradley, what seems to be the problem today?” she asked briskly, keeping her eyes glued to the file.
“Hello to you, too, Doc,” he drawled in that deep, masculine voice that disrupted Donna’s equilibrium. “I like your new sign.”
Donna frowned, then realized he was talking about the sign on the front of the clinic. It had arrived just in time for the open house. “Thank you.”
“The whole place looks great.”
She gave him a smile and decided to move on to business. “If you’re here about your knee.” She continued to pretend to peruse his file. “It would be best if you sought medical treatment from an orthopedist. I’m sure—”
“It’s not my knee that hurts.” he interrupted. “It’s right here.”
There was simply no way around what she had to do. Donna closed his file and looked at him. All six feet two inches and one hundred ninety pounds of him. Hank Bradley lounged against the examination table. Not a care in the world. Donna took a second look. Was that a smudge of green paint on his left cheek? It was hard to tell without getting closer. No way was she getting any closer, unless medically necessary.
“It hurts where, Mr. Bradley?” She cringed when his intense blue gaze locked wit
h hers. His file slipped from her suddenly boneless fingers and slapped on the tile floor. Both crouched to retrieve it, coming face to face, fingers tangling on the manila folder.
“Hank,” he reminded, a charming smile falling into place.
Donna stood quickly and straightened the contents of the file. “You were saying it hurts where?”
She saw his hand coming, but before she could comprehend his intent, he grabbed her hand and pressed it firmly against the center of his chest.
“Here,” he told her. His big, square hand covered hers completely.
Donna snatched her hand back and shot him a warning glare. “Describe the pain.”
Hank rubbed his hand over his broad chest as if trying to decide exactly how to recount it. “A tightness, maybe,” he said and then shrugged.
A trickle of concern nudged her as she tucked his folder under her arm and reached for the blood pressure cuff. It wasn’t unheard of for a man his age and in such excellent physical condition to develop cardiovascular problems, but it certainly wasn’t typical. He held out his right arm for her to strap on the cuff. With one push of a button the cuff swelled around his arm and measured his pressure. Normal.
“What other symptoms have coincided with the tightness?” She pulled the pen from her pocket and noted the pressure reading in his file.
“I don’t know if I can describe it.” He rested his hands on the examination table on either side of him, causing the front of his button-down shirt to open wider.
Donna’s eyes lingered there. “Any sweating? Nausea?” she asked, feeling a little lightheaded. She’d probably break out into a sweat any second now. How he made her so uncomfortable and yet so comfortable at the same time she would never understand.
He worried his bottom lip with his teeth as he considered her question. Donna imagined how it would feel to have him nibbling on her lip like that. She licked her parched lips. Goodness, it’s hot in here. She almost used his file as a fan again, but caught herself in the nick of time.
