Christmas Eve Delivery. Connie Cox

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Christmas Eve Delivery - Connie Cox Mills & Boon Medical

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reality was that everyone would say the politically correct thing. They would say her pregnancy didn’t matter in her job hunt.

      But the truth was no one wanted to hire a woman who would need time off to have a baby, not to mention time out of her workday for the morning sickness that struck like clockwork at ten a.m. each and every morning.

      In less than a month her pregnancy would be evident. But by then she’d have had the job long enough to show her competence, long enough to make herself indispensable.

      Her stomach lurched as she thought of how badly she needed this job.

      With great willpower she stopped herself from staring at the man who could give her a safe, secure future.

      Surely, her sister’s husband, the great Dr. Santone, didn’t have influence over every sleepy little town in Texas, did he?

      What would a small-town country doctor care that a big-time surgeon who sat on the board of the largest hospital in Louisiana would be heartily upset if his sister-in-law found a job in the medical field?

      Gathering her purse and slinging it over her shoulder, she pushed off the bench, remembering at the last moment to watch where she stepped as she walked toward Dr. Jordan Hart.

      Feeling self-conscious, she looked up in time to see he was watching her every step of the way.

      A challenge? Why?

      Under the wide brim of his hat his eyes were too shaded by the darkening night skies to read. But his lips, so full and rich only a moment ago, were now set tight and grim.

      “Dr. Hart?” Deseré called out.

      “Just Jordan, ma’am.” Automatically, Jordan touched the brim of his hat, not even thinking about it until he saw her eyes follow the movement of his hand.

      She held out her hand. “Deseré Novak. Your new nurse practitioner.”

      Not a rodeo groupie at all. But she was an assertive little thing, wasn’t she?

      Dr. Wong’s recommendation had seemed to contain a lot more between the lines than in black-and-white.

      Dr. Wong hadn’t exactly said she’d worked for him. The letter had been carefully worded. What Dr. Wong had said was that Deseré Novak deserved a chance.

      So Jordan would give her one. But he’d only promised an interview.

      Or did she think Dr. Wong’s recommendations carried that much weight with him? Jordan was a man who made up his own mind about things.

      “You’re early for your interview. We didn’t expect you until Monday.”

      She gave him a smile. “I thought I’d check out the place first.”

      “Makes sense.” He put his hand in hers. “Thanks for coming to Piney Woods. I know we’re a long way from New Orleans.”

      Her grip was firm. No-nonsense. Assertive. With just enough give to suggest hidden softness.

      Ms. Novak’s eyes flicked in worry before bravado had her lifting her chin. “I’ve already researched your practice. I’m sure it’s perfect for me. You won’t be sorry to hire me.”

      If Jordan hadn’t noticed the slight quiver he would have been fooled into thinking she was totally confident that she had the job.

      It wasn’t that he’d had any better-qualified applicants. How many experienced nurse practitioners wanted to move out to the edge of nowhere, taking room and board as a significant portion of their pay, when they could be pulling in the big bucks in any major city?

      “We’ll talk about it in the morning.” He gestured to the open arena, still and quiet between events. “I’ve got other things going on tonight.”

      She stood still waiting for—for what?

      Something about her stillness made him notice the dark circles under her eyes.

      “The closest hotel is back toward Longview about two hours away. You may want to head in that direction before it gets much later.”

      She shook her head, shaking off his suggestion. “I understood room and board would be part of the deal. If you could point me toward this boarding house, maybe I could stay the night?”

      “Boarding house.” Jordan’s smile was so tight it made his mouth hurt, way too tight to be reassuring, he was sure. “I guess, in a way, it is.”

      His office administrator had drawn up the job description.

      It would be just like Nancy to gloss over the details to get what she wanted.

      And what she wanted was a local medical facility for the folks of Piney Woods, solving two problems at once. The town and surrounding ranches would have good medical attention.

      The loudspeaker blasted over the explanation he was about to give to clear up his office administrator’s oversight.

      Like everyone else in the stands, he turned to the gate to see his cousin poised over the back of a snorting and twisting bull.

      Bull riding was a young man’s sport. Rusty was getting too old for this.

      But, then, his bullheaded cousin would probably realize that in the morning when he was too stiff to roll out of bed.

      Jordan had been there, done that, got the belt buckle—and the scars—to prove it.

      The woman next to him winced as she saw Rusty drop down onto the wide back of the bull.

      Rusty settled in—as well as a man could settle onto the back of an angry bull—and gave a sharp nod.

      The gate opened, the bull rushed out, and Jordan silently counted in his head, one second, two seconds, three

      And Rusty was off the bull and on the ground.

      The rodeo clowns rushed in to distract the twenty-five-hundred-pound, four-legged kicking fury so Rusty could roll away from the dangerous hoofs.

      Jordan squinted through the falling light, looking for that first twitch that said Rusty was going to catch his breath, jump up and walk out of the arena any second now.

      “Come on, Rusty, shake it off,” he murmured, as if saying it would send his cousin into action.

      Dust hung in the air, as time stood still.

      Rusty didn’t move.

      But the woman next to Jordan did.

      She rushed toward the arena, looking like she intended to climb through the iron-pipe fence separating her from the bull.

      Without thought, Jordan reached out and pulled her close to him.

      “No.” It came out harsh and uncompromising. It had been meant to. He’d been trained to give orders that were followed without question. He’d had too much practice to break the habit now.

      There

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