Doctor And The Debutante. Pat Warren

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Doctor And The Debutante - Pat Warren Mills & Boon Cherish

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you might not be here talking with me.”

      She shuddered at the close call. “I just bought the Bronco about six months ago. I used to drive a BMW two-seater. But I have to carry around all these samples—carpeting, drapery, paint swatches, wood panels. I guess it was a good decision to switch.”

      “Amen to that.”

      Laura shifted on the couch, attempting to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through her shoulder. “Oh!”

      “I think we’d better get your shoulder back in place,” Sean told her, getting to his feet. “I take it you’ve never had this type of injury before?”

      Her face registered discomfort and reluctance. “No. How exactly do we get it back in place?” Laura had a feeling she wasn’t going to like whatever he was about to suggest.

      “You’re going to have to trust me.” He bent to help her stand, moving gently, aware of her many sources of pain and that her ankle might prevent her from standing without help. “Put your good arm around my shoulder and hold on.” When she did, he lifted her into his arms.

      Laura bit her lip so she wouldn’t cry out with the pain that stabbed like a knife through her shoulder. Her arm felt limp and useless. Despite that, as he carried her across the room, she couldn’t help but be aware of how strong he was, holding her as easily as if she were a child. His hands were large and powerful. She could scarcely imagine this big man delivering tiny babies. She’d always pictured obstetricians as middle-aged, comfortably solid, inviting confidence not speculation. Sort of neuter, sexless, harmless.

      Sean Reagan was anything but. With his ruddy complexion, windblown sandy hair and athletic build, he looked more like a man who worked outdoors chopping down trees rather than bringing new lives into the world. Unbidden, her gaze settled on his mouth. Full lips, a small dimple in one corner, thoroughly tempting.

      Lord, what was wrong with her, thinking sexy thoughts about a man she’d just met? That bonk on the head must have rattled her more than she’d thought. But there was a dormant sexuality about him that, even in her bruised and battered state, made her very keenly aware that she was a woman.

      She didn’t need the reminder just now.

      At the paneled wall, Sean stopped to explain. “I’m going to set you on your feet and brace you with my body up against the wall since I know your one ankle won’t hold your weight. I need you to hold very still, and I’m going to tell you now, this will hurt. But only for a few seconds.”

      Eyes wide, Laura stared at him. “What are you going to do?” Laura remembered vaguely reading a story where someone had fixed a dislocated shoulder for a patient. It hadn’t been a pretty scene.

      “The ball of your shoulder has slipped out of the socket. The only way to fix it is to yank really hard on your arm and allow the ball to jump back into place. Can you handle that?”

      She wasn’t sure. “What if you yank and it doesn’t go in?”

      He almost smiled. “It will. I’ve done this many times.”

      “Ever lose anyone doing it?”

      Now he did smile. “Keep that sense of humor.” Carefully, he stood her up and held on while she settled most of her weight on the uninjured foot. Only she was wobbly, perhaps even a little dizzy, and her knees kept buckling.

      “I’ve got you. Don’t worry.” He aligned their bodies so that he was very close up against her, keeping her from sliding down by pressing himself into her as she stood with her back to the wall. The top of her head came to just under his chin. The warm womanly scent of her drifted to him as her hair nuzzled against his nose. Sean swallowed hard and dipped his head back. He’d better hurry before he embarrassed himself. “Ready?”

      She felt light-headed, whether from her combined injuries, her painful arm or the reaction of being all but glued to this very male stranger, her breasts flattened against his chest, her ear pressed to his pounding heart, she couldn’t have said. “Let’s get this over with, please.” Praying she wouldn’t faint on him, Laura mentally braced herself.

      Sean eased his upper body slightly away from her, placed one arm diagonally across her chest to keep her upright and took hold of her right arm with his left hand. Counting to three, he yanked hard and heard the pop as the ball slipped back into her shoulder socket. It was almost drowned out by Laura’s sharp cry.

      Disliking having to hurt her any more than she was already hurting, he scooped her up into his arms and held her close, letting her absorb some of his strength. He’d always been a sucker for a woman in pain. Her face was again very pale and pinched, her eyes closed. She cradled her arm against her chest. “Are you all right?”

      Just then, all the lamps went out, the furnace clicked off and the only light came from the soft glow of the fireplace clear across the room, the only sound that of their labored breathing.

      Chapter Two

      “Oh, no,” Laura muttered. What a time for a power outage.

      “Just wait a minute,” Sean said, holding on to her. In seconds, there was a shuddering sound, then a large click. The lights blinked back on, and the furnace made a whooshing noise before resuming. “The generator kicked in,” he explained. “I have it as a backup since these winter storms often knock out our power.” He carried her back to the couch, easing her down carefully. “I’m sorry I had to hurt you.”

      Laura held her injured arm close to her body, hugging it. “Had to be done.” She licked her lips, struggling with a sudden wave of nausea. Swallowing hard, she looked up at him, beginning to panic. “Where’s your bathroom? I think I’m going to be sick.”

      She did look a little greenish. “Not far. Let me help you.” He slipped an arm around her and half-carried, half-supported her to a door off the kitchen. “I’ll be right outside the door if you need me,” he said, directing her inside, leaving the door slightly ajar so he could hear. He didn’t want her passing out on him.

      Poor kid, Sean thought, walking away, giving her some privacy. Shock often brought on nausea. The jolt of repositioning her shoulder had likely been the last straw for her battered system. He wandered over to the front window. It was still coming down just as hard as ever. At this rate, her Bronco would be all but hidden by morning.

      Sean walked over to the phone, picked it up to check. Sure enough, it was out, and would be for God only knew how long. Hands in his pockets, he slowly paced the perimeter of the large room, reluctantly admitting that he was stuck with his uninvited guest for quite some time.

      Lousy timing. He wasn’t an uncharitable person, and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to help someone hurt and stranded. But he’d had a purpose in coming to the cabin at this particular time, and her arrival messed up his plans. Maybe it was for the best, he thought with a shrug. His partner had repeatedly told Sean what he thought of his annual pilgrimages, that they did more harm than good, and perhaps Jonah was right. Yet each year, as the fifteenth of February approached, Sean would feel compelled to return.

      Glancing toward the bathroom door, he wondered how she was doing in there. And how she’d handle being marooned in a strange place with a melancholy man.

      Laura splashed cold water on her face, then grabbed a hand towel to dry off. Standing with most of her weight on one foot,

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