orthopedic surgeon had pinned his broken bones back together. Grant had been following the young man’s pulmonary status from the point he’d been admitted to the ICU. If his lung didn’t collapse again, he’d be transferred to the medical floor and sent home within a couple of days.
“You did great, Dale,” Grant assured the boy, closing the wound as Joni handed Grant a pair of suture scissors. He ran through listening to the boy’s lungs and assured himself there were breath sounds in all lung fields.
“Yes,” the boy’s mother praised, worry and fatigue from the past week’s events obvious in her expression and body. “You’re so brave.”
“Right.” Dale rolled his eyes, obviously embarrassed by her compliment.
Laughing, Grant patted the boy on the shoulder. “You are the man, Dale. Have your nurse page me if you get short of breath or have any negative change with your breathing.”
He spoke with the boy for a few more minutes, then left the hospital room. The boy’s parents followed him out, no doubt to corner him with questions.
Joni ran through another set of vital checks and made sure all the telemetry was still connected correctly. She reminded him what symptoms to watch for regarding his breathing, fractures, and other injuries, then left the room.
She wasn’t surprised to find Grant in the hallway.
Distracted by the boy’s parents, he seemed oblivious that she’d stepped out of the room. His navy scrubs hung loosely on his frame and he’d obviously raked his fingers through his hair a few times. Although barely seven a.m., he’d already been at the hospital for several hours, having gotten called in to the emergency room when a patient had gone into respiratory distress just prior to daybreak. No doubt he had an office full of patients waiting on him, too. Yet he answered each of the boy’s parents’ questions with admirable patience and a genuine smile.
He was a good doctor, gorgeous, kind, self-assured.
He’d kissed her.
She’d been fighting the thought from the moment she’d arrived at the hospital and learned he was already there.
No, truth was, she’d thought of nothing else the whole night. Even attending AA with her mother hadn’t distracted her. When she’d finally drifted into sleep, she’d dreamed of him. Dreamed of his lips tasting hers, conquering, taking, mastering. When she’d wakened, she hadn’t felt rested at all. She’d only felt restless, on edge, as if she’d been waiting for him, as if his kiss had awakened her and shot her to the precipice of the rest of her life.
Which was crazy.
She was no Sleeping Beauty and Grant was no Prince Charming. He had nothing to do with the rest of her life.
Once upon a time she’d believed in happily-ever-after. She’d been a wide-eyed innocent who’d believed the lies of a powerful man almost twice her age. Lies that had stolen her belief in fairy-tales, her self-respect, and had almost destroyed her life and career.
“Joni?”
She met Grant’s gaze, saw the question in his eyes. She shook her head, sent a quick smile to the boys’ parents, and went to check on another patient. A twenty-two-year-old who’d been in an MVA two nights before and had yet to regain consciousness.
“You okay?”
Not having realized that he’d followed her into the patient’s room, she spun, startled.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” His fingers brushed over her arm, eliciting thousands of goose-bumps.
Why was he always touching her?
“You don’t scare me.”
His lips twisted. “Actually, I think I do.”
“Oh, get over yourself. Not every woman wants you.” Clamping her lips closed, she cast a quick glance at her unconscious patient. She wanted the boy to wake up, to give her a reason to move away from Grant. A reason that he couldn’t mistake as fear.
“True,” he admitted. “But we’re not talking about every woman, are we? We’re talking about you.”
She glared, not liking him.
“Whether you’re willing to admit it or not, you do want me, Joni.” He smiled that smile that was really starting to get on her nerves. “And for reasons I don’t understand yet, I definitely scare you.”
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