rushed off and pushed through the door into what he assumed was the ladies’ room.
He turned to the woman in his embrace. “Are you all right?”
She nodded, but her trembling body told a different story. He instinctively pulled her closer. “It’s okay. You’re safe now.” She released a deep sigh and moved closer, burying her head in his chest. The way she clung to him stirred something deep inside him. I was just keeping her from being knocked down, he quickly told himself.
“I guess I wasn’t watching where I was going,” she finally said.
Adrenaline still pumped through his veins, his heart hadn’t returned to a normal pace and the pain in his arm was increasing. Yet none of it erased the strange feelings evoked by holding this woman in his arms.
Pushing them aside, he rationalized that they were probably due to the excitement of the evening—the birth of his first godchild—and pure exhaustion.
Nothing more.
Simona tried to steady her emotions. She had been so deep in thought that she hadn’t even heard the cart approaching. The collision had nearly given her a heart attack. Slowly she wrapped her arms around the man’s waist. “Thank...thank you.”
He tightened his arms around her and caressed her back. “Anytime. Are you sure you’re okay?”
Her heart continued to race from being scared out of her wits and, even more alarming, from the overwhelming sense of security she gained from being in her rescuer’s arms.
She heard footsteps behind them and glanced around his shoulder to see the volunteer returning with a wad of paper towels and one of the hospital’s security officers close behind.
“Ms. Andrews, are you okay?” the security guard asked, narrowing his gaze at the man holding Simona.
She lifted her head and stepped out of the man’s embrace, rubbing her hip where the cart had hit her. “Yes. Thanks to him.” She glanced up to find her rescuer watching her intently, concern etched in his features. She immediately moved her hand away from her hip.
“What happened?”
Tearing her gaze away from his intense stare, she turned toward the guard. “Um...just a little accident. I wasn’t paying attention and didn’t see the cart.” Simona glanced down at the hospital volunteer trying to mop up the mess. “Maybe you should call maintenance to clean that up.”
“Yeah, probably,” the woman mumbled, clearly embarrassed.
The guard asked, “Are you hurt?”
Simona shook her head. “I’m okay.”
“Are you sure? There’s blood on your top.”
She looked down at her top, held it out and frowned. “I don’t know how...” She shifted her gaze to the man standing next to her. “Oh, my goodness! You’re bleeding.”
He tried to wave her off, but she moved in front of him, lifted his arm and examined the wound below his rolled-up shirtsleeve, which was stained with coffee. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not. You’ve got a nasty cut and a burn. I need to get you inside to emergency.”
“Really. It’s just a little cut,” he protested, withdrawing his arm. “Nothing that requires a three-hour wait in emergency.”
Simona reached for his uninjured arm and pulled him in the direction of the emergency room, leaving the guard to deal with the cleanup.
As soon as they got to the entrance, his steps slowed. “You’re wearing scrubs. Are you a doctor?”
“No. An emergency room nurse.” She led him past a half-full waiting room to the back.
“Simona, what are you still doing here? I thought you were off,” a nurse said as they entered a treatment room.
“I am. Is there a doctor available? I think he’s going to need stitches.” Simona usually assisted the doctor with the minor procedure, but with the way her hands were shaking she’d probably do more harm than good.
“I’ll go find somebody.” The woman hurried off.
“Have a seat, and let’s see if I can get this bleeding to stop. Then I’ll clean it up and put something on this burn.”
He sat on the examination table. “I still don’t think you need to go through all this trouble.” He caught her hand as she took a step. “I’m more concerned about you. Are you sure you’re okay? Maybe we should have the doctor check you out. After all, you did almost lose your life to a coffee cart, and I noticed you rubbing your hip.”
She gasped softly. His gentle touch and soothing, deep voice sent a wave of heat through her body. Simona lifted her head and couldn’t stop staring at him. In the hall, she had been too distracted to focus on his features, but he was easily the most handsome man she had ever laid eyes on. His clean-shaven walnut-colored face, close-cropped hair and light brown eyes nearly took her breath away, tempting her to reach up and run her hands across the smooth, defined planes. She shook off the dangerous thought, reminding herself to behave like a professional. “Really, I’m fine, Mister...um...I’m sorry, what’s your name?”
He held her eyes intently. “Donovan. Donovan Wright. And you?”
“Simona Andrews.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Simona.”
Her name flowed from his lips like a gentle caress, and her pulse skipped when his mouth inched up in a sexy smile, revealing a dimple in his left cheek. Focus, Simona! “I’m so sorry you got hurt, and...and look at your shirt. It’s ruined. I’ll replace it.”
“Don’t worry about it.”
He lifted his arm at the same time as she reached for his sleeve and their hands touched again, inflaming her senses once more. She withdrew quickly, turned and grabbed a pair of gloves from the box on the wall. The gloves might protect her from any potential diseases, but not from the awareness flowing between her and this man.
She inspected the burn. There was redness and swelling. Simona noticed the bleeding had slowed from the cut, but handed him some gauze to apply pressure to the wound and put an ice pack on the burn. She pulled the computer stand over to take a medical history. He was thirty-five years old, six feet two inches tall, and weighed one eighty-five. Recalling his agility and strength when he kept her from falling, and how his hard body felt pressed against hers, she could add that he was in excellent shape.
The doctor arrived shortly after, donned a pair of gloves and introduced himself as Dr. Cortez. “Mr. Wright, can you please remove your arm from the sleeve?” He examined the cut and determined that Donovan’s wound required stitches. Then he checked the burn. “I don’t think the burn is going to blister.”
Simona stood transfixed by the sculpted muscles in Donovan’s arm and chest. Their eyes met, and he smiled knowingly. Simona turned away and busied herself with assisting the doctor.
