by Gina Kincade
With quick meticulous movements, the curved needle threaded with nylon pierced the skin on either side of the laceration as one might do with a needle and thread through fabric, closing the ragged edges by drawing the gaping skin tight in a neat little line. While he worked, she continued to explain what Dr. Ravuri was doing with each stage of the procedure even though the doctor stated everything himself. Sometimes it was difficult for people to understand his thick accent. Lord knew it had taken Kate several months of working with the man to gain an ear for his accent. Words and phrases were often lost in translation as so often told her.
Soon, there was a row of neat stitches lining the palm of Grant’s hand and Dr. Ravuri stepped back and admired his work. “You can dress this now, Kate. I’ll go get his discharge instructions ready. I’ve disposed of all of the sharps.”
“Oakey doke,” she replied and eased her gloved hand from Grant’s firm grip. “See?” she said to Grant. “That wasn’t too bad.”
She opened a pack of triple antibiotic ointment and slathered some across the lac before covering his injury with fresh sterile gauze and secured the edges with tape. “You’ll want to keep this covered for at least twenty-four hours. After that, if the wound is not draining, you can leave it open to air. Cleanse it daily with antibacterial soap and warm water; and again if the site should get soiled. Follow up with your primary care doctor to have the stitches removed in seven to ten days. Watch for signs of infections like redness, fever, swelling, or pus like drainage. If any of those occur come back to the ER. Do you have any questions, Mr. Anderson?”
He glanced at her and gave another shake of his head. Had she imagined it or was his gaze a bit warmer? Must be her wayward imagination. He hadn’t even managed a simple thank you. She sighed.
“Jasmine will be in with your discharge papers for you to sign and show you where to check out.”
What had she really expected? A smooth conversationalist the mysterious Mr. Anderson was not. She didn’t really understand why she had stayed and held his hand. It wasn’t like Jasmine or one of the other nurses wouldn’t have done the same thing. Everyone she worked with gave excellent and compassionate care. What had compelled her to do so? Was it because he seemed lost and just a bit lonely?
Kate was a sucker for lost souls, she mused. Well, hopefully she made him feel comforted while he was here, but there were several dozen more people who needed her attention. With a firm mental shake, she placed the tragic Mr. Anderson out of her mind and headed for the triage desk.
Chapter Three
Tossing the last of the trash into the bin, Kate drew the plastic handles tight and pulled the now full bag out of the canister. Satisfaction filled her. She loved a clean apartment. More importantly, she loved the renewed freshness when the task was done. The time had come to add new life to her surroundings. Lately, her job in the emergency room had consisted of all work and no play. Not that she was complaining. Her choice of career definitely fed the adrenaline junky that lived deep within her heart and soul, but she wanted to change things up a bit. A lot of her friends had been base-jumping from the Burro Creek Bridge off of Highway 93. Totally badass and right up Kate’s fun meter.
Well, okay. My Oh Shit meter! She snickered. Jumping would be exciting to be sure, and once she got over the initial Holy Mother of God, what the hell am I doing scream of terror mixed with delight, she knew she’d enjoy the surrounding desert vista views.
Sad that free falling from some three hundred eighty-eight feet from an old bridge seemed appealing to her. Kate wasn’t a fool. Logically, she knew her thrill seeking behavior stemmed from a lifetime of existing as the outsider in her family. Her parents and younger brother lived in the Midwest. When she’d left home for college, she’d flipped a coin to decide which direction to head off to. Heads would be East and tails would be West. The quarter had landed on tails and she’d applied for colleges in California, Arizona, and Oregon. Finally, she’d settled on Arizona, attracted to the sleek desert vistas and the promise of sunshine year round.
Away from the constant disapproval of her family, Kate had thrived, getting her nursing degree from Arizona State University and an internship in the emergency room of Phoenix General Hospital. She rarely spoke to her parents. Mostly, she received the obligatory holiday and birthday cards; sometimes a text message from her brother. She told herself that was how she preferred things. It certainly beat having to put up with the constant barrage of criticism. No matter what achievements Kate hurdled over, nothing was ever good enough. Not graduating with a bachelor’s degree with Magna cum laude, buying this condominium at age 25, volunteering her time to the children’s center on her days off, and definitely not traveling all over the world. Her parents had dumped major recriminations on her head whenever she took a trip somewhere that wasn’t back home. Why the hell would she go home? She shook her head. No sane person would intentionally put himself in line for that kind of emotional abuse.
Kate hummed and left her condo with trash bag in hand, noticing her sexy new neighbor's door across the hall from her own stood half open. She'd seen glimpses of him unloading boxes through the window earlier, and had shamelessly gaped. Silently sending the Dating God prayers of thanks, Kate had gotten her binoculars out and examined every inch of what must be at least six-foot two or three frame of muscled USDA PRIME. It was only then Kate realized what a long drought she’d been in.
I need to add getting laid to my naughty list of fun. Her thoughts strayed to the sexy Mr. Anderson for the hundredth time over the last two weeks. What was wrong with her that she was obsessed with a dark brooding man who’d barely spoken to her?
She shook her head and firmly put the cranky man out of her mind, instead choosing to go back to that moment in time when her sexy new neighbor had showed up this morning. Her lips curved at her own dramatic reaction to the guy.
Oh. My. God! He’d been absolute perfection!
Fanning herself with one hand, and still holding the binoculars with the other, she'd ogled that perfect specimen in her line of sight. Snug black T-shirt covered a broad, well-defined chest. He'd stacked a box on top of another and lifted both easily, biceps flexing. Her mouth had gone dry. She’d angled the peepers to take in the rest of the yummy view. Black jeans clung to powerful thighs and a firm ass. A soft moan escaped from her parted lips. Black was now her new favorite color.
Through the clear glass of the binoculars, she’d checked his left hand for a wedding ring and it had been blessedly void of anything shiny. Not that that meant anything in this day and age. Some people were married and never wore any signs of the vows they’d taken.
But a girl could hope, couldn’t she?
The object of her fascination had looked up then and caught her—binoculars and all. Never one to be shy about her overt nosy nature, she'd smiled and waved. He hadn’t returned her hello. Instead, a frown curved his full lips. An old denim baseball cap slung low on his head but she’d been able to make out chestnut hair curling from heat and sweat. Kate wished she'd been able to see what color his eyes were before she'd been detected and closed her curtain.
There was an air of familiarity about him. Almost as if she’d seen that man somewhere before. Imagining their first meeting because Kate definitely had plans to borrow a cup of sugar, eggs… Hell, his whole entire refrigerator if it got her in the door. The conversation in her head went something like I’ve seen you somewhere. Have we met before? Or maybe, You look familiar… Kate wrinkled her nose. How very cliché! She shrugged and let the puzzle go or it would drive her nuts trying to piece everything together.
Now, standing before his open door, she set the trash bag down in the hall, pure curiosity lured her through the entrance. There was no way she was going to miss an opportunity to introduce herself to Mr. Sexy you can have my number any day of the week who’d taken up residence in the only other condominium on the third floor of the old historic warehouse building in which she lived.
"Hello? Anybody home?" K
ate called out.
Silence greeted her. Her gaze swept the expansive space, which was the opposite floor plan as her own. All the boxes he'd brought upstairs to the third floor apartment were randomly stacked along one wall. A sleek black leather couch and glass coffee table with chrome legs had been pushed off to the other side of the room by the large window, leaving the center of the room free and clear. It was almost as if he hadn’t quite decided where he’d want the pieces positioned. Sunlight streamed in, highlighting the extensive stereo system that took up the opposite wall of the living room, complete with an eighty-inch big screen TV. This guy was serious about his entertainment or he was compensating for something, but after seeing the television’s owner, she certainly didn’t think the man had ever had to compensate for a single thing in his life.
Curious about his musical tastes, Kate walked over and turned the power button on. The seductive beat of the Tango poured through the speakers.
God, when was the last time I'd had the opportunity burn up the dance floor and put those salsa dancing lessons to use?
The erotic lure of the Latin beat pulsed through her veins and she tapped the floor with a sandled foot. She glanced around the room looking for something when her gaze touched upon a pencil that lay on the coffee table next to a few scattered nails and a hammer.
Perfect.
Placing the pencil between her teeth as if it were a long stemmed rose, Kate held her arms out stiff, embracing her invisible partner. The primal sexiness of the music entranced her and she let go of her surroundings. Eyes closed, she allowed the natural rhythm of the Argentinian pulse to envelope her. Unbidden, the memory of Grant Anderson’s gorgeous hands popped into her brain and she imagined he was her dance partner. Random errant thoughts of him had been crashing through her brain waves with alarming frequency ever since she’d encountered him in the ER last week.
Mr. Anderson with his cold demeanor and oh so sexy mouth made for pleasure. It wasn’t hard to imagine that pleasure now as she danced. His hands roving down her sides, cupping her ass, squeezing and kneading while he trailed hot wet kisses from her ear to between the valley of her breasts… Panties damp, she shivered with need.
Half way through the song, a coldly familiar voice barked, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
Chapter Four
Kate's eyes snapped open and she nearly stumbled. She gasped and the pencil fell to the carpet. “Mr. Anderson!”
“I repeat. What in the hell do you think you’re doing?” he said, crossing his arms over his broad chest.
Kate fought to control her scrambled thoughts through the sensual haze of the Latin beat that never failed to fire up her libido, but it was extremely difficult to accomplish with the fine male specimen who’d suddenly jumped out of the fantasy of her mind becoming reality.
“I…ah…um, well.” She began cursing herself for her innate curiosity. She cleared her throat. “I’m dancing,” she said lamely.
“I can see that,” he said rolling his eyes. “Why are you doing it here?”
“I’m so sorry,” she began. “I was just taking out my trash and saw your door open. I knocked and called out, but no one answered and…well, obviously I came in and snooped. I wasn’t going to steal anything. I was just curious and…” her voice trailed off. She smacked her forehead with the palm of her hand, embarrassment flaming her face. “God, I’ve got diarrhea of the mouth,” she said with a grimace.
He just stared at her, an incredulous expression lit his face. Obviously, his man of few words persona wasn’t due to his visit to the emergency room. She straightened her shoulders and sighed.
“I’m Kate by the way. Kate Sumner. We met last week in the ER.” She held out her hand and gave him a sheepish smile. “Your obsessive compulsive busy body neighbor. How’s your hand?” Without waiting for an answer, Kate closed the distance between them and lifted up the palm he’d injured the week before, studying the neatly healing edges of the scab with a critical eye. “Looks good,” she murmured. “You got the stitches out.” She lifted her gaze to his and smiled.
“Look, lady I—”
“Kate,” she said. His jaw ticked and she knew he was pissed off. For some inexplicable reason she wanted to get underneath that cold prickly veneer he wore.
He blinked, removed his battered baseball cap and scratched his head, tousling his unruly chestnut curls in the process. Her fingers itched to run her fingers through the errant strands. Were they as soft as they looked?
“What?” he asked seemingly a bit taken aback.
“My name is Kate,” she repeated slowly as if speaking to a toddler. “Since we are going to be neighbors, you might as well remember it. Do you need any help unpacking or bringing up any more boxes?” As she spoke, she moved toward a fresh stack that he’d brought in while she’d been dancing. These were all marked Office in bold letters across the side. “I’m a great organizer.”
“No, Kate,” he said in those arctic tones she was way too familiar with. “I do not need help unpacking.” He grasped her upper arm, and led her toward the front door of his apartment.
Kate’s temper flared. Why was he being such an asshole? So she’d been caught acting like a complete jackass in his personal space. So what? It wasn’t like she was burglarizing his condo and selling his possessions on EBay. She spun around and faced him, yanking her arm from his firm grip in the process. “What is your problem? Every since we first met, you’ve been rude and nearly intolerable.”
“Nearly?” he scoffed. “Then I’m not doing it properly.”
She searched his face. Thick dark brows covered cold blue eyes held her steady gaze. His jaw tightened. “So you set out to be a complete ass on purpose? But then there was that moment when you actually seemed a tiny bit human when you asked me to stay with you in the exam room,” she reminded him. “A moment of weakness, perhaps?”
His brows drew together and he frowned before advancing on her. Kate stepped back until her shoulders hit the solid wood of the front door and could go no further. He flattened a palm against the solid oak on either side of her face. She tilted her head up and gazed at him, remembering from his ER intake form that he was six foot two and 220 pounds. A shiver shimmied through her that had little to do with fear and a lot with her overactive and sorely under utilized libido.
“Just because you’re bigger than me doesn’t mean you intimidate me,” she said, defiance coursing through her veins. Her heart beat a staccato rhythm against her rib cage.
He leaned down so that they were nose to nose. The scent of sweat, man, and Irish Spring soap enveloped her. Heat radiated off him in waves. Kate sighed. Leaning in just a bit closer, she inhaled his deliciousness. God help her, but the man simply fascinated her. She wanted to know everything about him. Why was he so cold? What had happened in his life to shape his personality into a wall of obsidian? And more importantly, what would happen if she could get him to melt just a little? She licked her lips, wondering what his next move would be.
“Not intimidated, huh?” he said. “Little busy bodies like you need to be taught a lesson.”
As he spoke, his gaze moved to her mouth and her pulse skipped a beat. He wouldn’t dare kiss her. Would he? Kate’s breath caught. Anticipation skittered along her spine. Slowly, she shook her head. Please, please, please put that hot, gorgeous mouth on mine.
Nerves jangled and her lips twitched.
Oh, no! Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh. Don’t laugh.
Laughter burst from her mouth and she covered her lips. “I-I’m s-sorry.” She gasped between fits of giggles. “I laugh when I get nervous and you got this whole I’m totally bad ass thing going on…”
“I make you nervous?” he asked, brow arched. He grasped a strand of her hair and twined it around his finger. “Good. You shouldn’t be here, you now.”
“Why not?” she asked, her curiosity spiking once more. She wiped a tear from the corner of her eye. He had such a lost look on his face and an inerrant s
adness in those dark blue eyes of his. “Are you a serial killer?”
His eyes widened. “No,” he said.
“One of those neighbors who starts a war and goes psycho, then murders the happy go lucky neighbor? AKA that would be me, by the way.”
“No,” he repeated.
Kate smiled. “Do you play loud music at all hours of the night and day? Have a dog that barks incessantly?
“Absolutely not,” he said. His tone conveyed he thought her words insulting.
“Then we will get along famously,” she said. “Just so there are no hard feelings for my little B&E—”
“B&E?” he asked, confusion creasing his forehead.
“Breaking and entering,” Kate said. “Don’t you watch Cops? Because if you don’t watch Cops then maybe we can’t be friends after all, but you did totally miss my Matrix impression in the ER,” she teased.
A baffled expression lit his face and Kate chose to have a little bit of mercy. There was no help for it. He just looked so damn cute. It was then that she decided to take matters into her own hands. Tossing the dice, she deemed the gamble would be worth the price to pay if he was determined to throw her out on her ass.
“This is me…” she said. Heart thundering in her ears, she lifted up on her tiptoes and slid her palms along his firm chest to rest upon his shoulders. “…apologizing for my un-neighborly behavior.”
Before she lost her nerve, she captured Grant’s lips. A growl let loose from his throat and he deepened the kiss, slipping his tongue between her parted lips, tasting her deep and hard. It wasn’t like other first kisses. There was no uncertainty or patient searching. This was a total leap off the ledge straight down into the Grand Canyon. And she loved every fucking second of it!
A distant voice reminded Kate that she’d just met this man, knew absolutely nothing about him other than his height, weight, and he was up to date on his tetanus shot. But she ignored that voice. It had been so long since she’d kissed a guy, Kate felt everything as if it were the first time. Or maybe it wasn’t just kissing a random guy that made her feel this way, but kissing Grant Anderson. Butterflies filled her belly and electricity zinged straight to her toes. She reveled in the weight of his body as he leaned into her, trapping her between the cool smooth wood of the door and the firmness of his chest. Her fingers slid along his neck to tangle in the soft curls at the nape of his neck. Swirling her tongue around his. He tasted of coffee and cinnamon. God, help her, she wanted more.
