she said. She could guess what the administrator wanted to talk about.
She could conveniently forget to call. Or get too busy. Or— She glanced up at the clock on the wall. It was almost eleven. Darn! That was when she had agreed to meet Shawn for coffee.
She’d figured, when she gave in to his insistence, that she could deal with coffee one time. Make it quick.
Maybe even learn what he had really been doing in the burned-out records room last night.
But now she felt too upset to talk to anyone.
Particularly Shawn. Not that it mattered, but she didn’t want to appear disheveled and weepy to him.
With a sigh, she headed toward the cafeteria.
Not to have coffee with Shawn, but to tell him she was too busy.
SHAWN DIDN’T BUY IT. Or maybe it was simply that he was so damned disappointed.
Hell, it didn’t matter if she didn’t want his company. He had a job to do. He kept his voice neutral. “Another time, then.”
They stood just inside the doorway to the cafeteria, where he had been waiting. She had arrived a minute late, her usual clipboard under one arm—only to tell him she hadn’t time for coffee with him.
“Sure.” She seemed relieved when he acted so understanding. “Another time.”
To hear her over the roar of voices in the crowded eating area, he had moved close to her. Close enough that he could inhale her clean female fragrance.
Stop getting distracted, Jameson, he commanded himself.
He focused instead on the way she looked. Beautiful, as usual, of course. But there was something else, as well.
“Is anything wrong, Kelley?”
Her expressive brown eyes held a stricken look, as if someone had dealt her a blow. One the lovely doctor seemed determined to be brave about, but she was clearly having a tough time.
He wanted to know what was bothering her.
“Sorry if I seem preoccupied,” she replied with a small shrug of one slender shoulder, “but I’m concerned about a case.” Her smile looked forced. “Doctors worry about patients, like you worry about the kids in your care.” Her soft auburn brows rose as if she expected him to confirm his professional concerns.
“You’ve got that right.” Actually, he did worry about the kids—and whether what he did would cause them to kill each other. Or him. So far, so good. No one in his charge had suffered an injury worse than a scraped knee.
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