Healed By The Single Dad Doc. Annie Claydon

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Healed By The Single Dad Doc - Annie Claydon Mills & Boon Medical

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her middle name.

      ‘If you’re thinking about telling me you’re all right again, then you should consider the possibility that adrenaline has a way of keeping the body going while you fight or fly.’

      He had a point. Maybe she should have shown him her arm, to divert his attention from her ribs. But it was too late for that now, and mentioning any new aches and pains would only draw this out even further. Kate walked over to her desk, sitting down with a bump and wincing as pain shot up her back.

      Ethan’s expression softened, and she tried to ignore the fact that the smile on his face was inspiring both confidence and an inappropriate wish to touch him. He pulled up a chair, sitting down opposite her.

      ‘What hurt you just then?’

      ‘My side. Where he kicked me.’ She brushed her hand across the spot, trying not to react to the pain that shot up her arm.

      ‘Okay. May I take a look?’

      ‘What kind of doctor are you?’ She made one last attempt at resistance.

      ‘The kind that knows the difference between a bruise and a cracked rib.’ He grinned at her. ‘Actually, I’m a trauma surgeon, so I’ve seen a fair number of both.’

      ‘Oh. Sorry.’ Kate felt herself redden.

      ‘That’s okay. Actually, everything’s okay, just in case you were thinking of apologising about anything else.’

      This guy was a bloody dream. Relaxed, good-humoured, handsome. Her hero...

      She had to get a grip. If she just did what needed to be done, one thing at a time, she’d be okay. Just draw the lines and stay within them. Forget about everything else. She slipped off her jacket and Ethan reached around to the spot she’d indicated, pulling her shirt up a little so he could see.

      ‘Lean forward a little more... That’s right.’

      She felt the brush of his hands against her side. It had been a while since she’d shivered at a man’s touch against her skin and now wasn’t a good time to get reacquainted with the feeling. She squeezed her eyes closed, trying to imagine herself somewhere else.

      ‘Take a deep breath. In...’ She felt his fingers around her ribs. Kate filled her lungs with air and her head began to swim.

      ‘Out...’ His fingers moved higher. ‘Just relax.’

      Relax? Really?

      ‘Favourite place?’

      ‘What?’ Kate was dimly aware that his gentle examination had stopped.

      ‘Your favourite place. Mine’s at the top of Summer Hill. Do you know it?’

      ‘Yes, I know it.’ It was beautiful there, the hillside stretching gently down to woodlands and fields, small villages in the distance. It was a lovely spot, but not Kate’s favourite. Despite the fact that London had chewed her up and spat her out, she still loved the place.

      ‘Sitting by the river, in London. At dusk, watching the lights come on along the Embankment.’

      ‘What part of the Embankment?’

      ‘I like... You know the part by the statue of Boudicca?’ Kate could almost hear the buzz of the traffic and the quiet sound of the water. She felt calmer now, just imagining it.

      ‘Yes, I know it. I’ve always rather liked the cast-iron lamp stands they have there. The ones with dolphins at the base.’

      ‘Yes, they’re great. You know London?’

      ‘I studied down there. Deep breath.’

      Kate obeyed him without thinking. She was leaning against him now, his hands splayed around her back and sides. Relaxed, almost in an embrace...

      She sat up abruptly, the picture of home that had been so real in her head suddenly dissolving. Ethan smiled slowly.

      ‘Gotcha.’

      ‘So you did. You’re satisfied now?’

      He nodded. ‘Yes. I don’t feel any sign of broken ribs. You may well hurt in the morning, though. May I see your face?’

      He was going to do this face to face now? Kate fixed her gaze on the far corner of the room, so as not to meet his. She felt Ethan’s thumb on her brow, smoothing back her hair. She must look such a mess...

      ‘Just a graze. You might have a bruise there tomorrow.’

      When he spoke, her concentration broke, and she looked at him. His face was a model of propriety, but his eyes... Those eyes would be wicked in any setting.

      It was all in her own mind. A blue-eyed prince in shining armour. Someone who could chase away dragons and then gently inspect for any damage. It was beguiling.

      ‘Okay...thanks.’ Kate pulled the scrunchie out of her hair and coiled the mass of red curls back into a neat knot at the base of her neck. The everyday movement seemed to calm her a little.

      ‘Anything else?’

      ‘No. Thanks, there’s nothing else.’ Her arm hurt like crazy, but she needed this to end. Needed to get on to the next thing on her mental list of things to do after a mugging. ‘We should call the police.’

      ‘I’ll go and call them now.’ He stood up, pulling his phone from his pocket, easy and unhurried, as if there was nothing to worry about. Clearly he was planning to do it out of earshot.

      ‘Thanks. I’ll...drink my tea.’

      Kate waited until he’d gone and stood, stretching her limbs, trying to shake off the feeling of numb dread that suddenly accompanied being alone. Jeff raised his head, his tail thumping on the floor, and Kate walked over to sit beside him and stroke his head.

      ‘All right. Everything’s all right, Jeff.’

      But everything wasn’t all right. She needed to stop being a victim and get back to doing her job.

      * * *

      ‘Kate... Run...’ Mark had shouted the words and then taken off, running away from her down the deserted street.

      One o’clock in the morning and she’d only had eyes for him, not noticing the two men lounging at the entrance to her local underground station.

      But she hadn’t been able to run. Her bag had been slung across her body and she’d felt it being pulled, the strap tightening around her. Someone had dragged at her arm, pulling her watch from her wrist.

      She’d tried to scream then, but there had been a hand over her mouth. So frightened. She’d been so frightened.

      ‘Be quiet.’

      One of the men had held her from behind and the other had searched her, feeling her neck and hands for jewellery. Then he’d cut the strap of her bag and taken that.

      That might have been

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