Cindy's Doctor Charming

“Thanks.” Harlow slid a glance over her shoulder at the isolette surrounded by state-of-the-art equipment. “He’s not out of the woods yet. I hope he’s a fighter like the doc said.”

“Me, too. The gladiator.” She smiled.

“The staff usually gives the preemies nicknames,” Harlow explained, echoing what Nathan had already told her. “Something inspirational to live up to.”

“Live being the operative word. It surprised me coming from Nathan—” She stopped when the other woman gave her a funny look.

“Since when do you call him by his first name?”

“Oh, that—”

“Yeah, that.”

Cindy glanced over her shoulder where he still stood in the hall. “We sat at the same table at the fundraiser last night.”

“And?”

“The glue on your shoe didn’t hold up.”

“Later with the shoes news.” Harlow’s green eyes snapped with impatience. “When did you start calling Dr. Charming Nathan?”

“Last night. When he asked me to.”

“Why?” Her friend added, “Did he ask you to, I mean?”

“Probably because he didn’t know who I was.”

“I need more information than that.”

Cindy gripped the long handle of her dusting device. “He sat next to me, bought me a drink and said I looked familiar, but he couldn’t place me.”

“He didn’t recognize you?” Surprise jumped into Harlow’s eyes.

“Not even when I made him guess.”

“You didn’t,” her friend scoffed.

“I did.” Cindy had her reasons and it had seemed like a good idea at the time.

“Hot damn,” Harlow said. “I can’t wait to tell Whitney and Mary Frances that we literally transformed you into a mystery woman. That’s so cool.”

“Not really. When I saw him this morning, he figured it out.”

When he smelled her perfume. That memory made her stomach do a funny little shimmy and she told herself it was only because something that sensitive was out of character for Nathan Steele.

“Was he mad?”

It would have been easier if he had been. Then giving him a hard time would have been justified and not just turned her into a roaring witch.

“No. He took it well. Even apologized to me for overreacting and yelling at me in here yesterday. Then he asked for my phone number again,” Cindy explained.

The other woman’s jaw dropped. “Again?”

“I refused to give it to him when he asked me last night. After he caught up with me. And he only did because your shoe broke.”

“He chased you?” Harlow folded her arms over her chest. “This gets better and better.”

“It was time for me to go.”

“Apparently he didn’t agree.”

“That’s just because my identity was still in question and that intrigued him,” Cindy said. “Sort of like when a superhero assumes an alter ego. It’s the whole don’t-I-know-her-from-somewhere? thing.”

“Then what was his excuse for asking again today?”

“He’s one of those guys who can’t take no for an answer.”

“And why should he? Women in this hospital are taking numbers in the line to snap him up.” Warning slid into her friend’s eyes. “Let him call. You don’t have to commit to anything. And I wouldn’t if I were you.”

“Preaching to the choir, H,” Cindy said. “I don’t have time for the games.”

Just then Nathan walked back into the unit to check on the baby.

“Gotta go,” Harlow said.

Cindy turned away and finished her job in the NICU, then slipped out the door. Her clean cart was against the wall in the hall. She was still putting away her cleaning supplies when she heard the doors behind her whisper open. It could have been anyone, but not just anyone made the hair at her nape prickle. Only Nathan did that and the development was recent. And, annoyingly enough, recurring.

“Cindy—”

She turned around. “Did I forget to do something in the unit?”

“No. I just—” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I saw you talking to Harlow.”

“She’s my friend. One of the fairy godmothers, actually.”

“Good to know her talents are more than just being one of the best respiratory techs here at Mercy Medical.”

“Speaking of that,” she said. “I was watching just now, when you were working on the gladiator.”

“Don’t ask me where that came from,” he said sheepishly. The look was too darn cute.

“Okay. But I wanted to ask something else.” Anything to take the edge off his appeal. She met his gaze and said, “What did you mean when you said ‘surf’ him?”

“Surfactin. It’s a medication.”

“Yeah. I was pretty sure you weren’t talking about ocean waves. What does it do?”

“Makes the lungs more flexible. If they’re stiff, air can’t be pushed in and out,” he explained. “One of the problems in neonates is that their lungs are immature. The medication helps them function better until they fully develop.”

“I see.”

“Good. Now I’ve got one for you.”

“One what?”

“Question. Turnabout is fair play.” He leaned a broad shoulder against the wall.

If the inquiry was about how a guy could look so sexy dressed in utilitarian scrubs, she had no answer. On every possible level it was just wrong for him to be so yummy in shapeless cotton material with a drawstring at the waist of the pants. The V-neck shirt at least revealed the hint of chest hair, but really, the ensemble left a lot to be desired. Except the guy in it was more desirable than her favorite chocolate with caramel.

“Okay. You can ask,” she said, knowing she was really going to regret giving permission.

“What do you have against giving me your phone number?” he said.

“You’ll use it,” she answered. “Gotta get back to work now.”

She grabbed her cart and pushed it down the hall, feeling his gaze lasering into her back until she rounded the corner. Leaning against the wall, she blew out a long breath.

It was hard work going one on one with a hero. Even harder to remember why she needed to not get sucked into the games. Between work and school, she didn’t have the time or energy. Whatever he was selling, she wasn’t buying. And even if she were, she’d just blown any chance with him. Like Harlow said, women were waiting in line.

So much for her plan to attend the fundraiser and enjoy every moment. Pulling out those memories of how the beautiful people lived was supposed to brighten her daily grind. She’d made memories, all right, and so much more. She’d snagged the doctor’s attention. For all the good that would do.

After today he wouldn’t waste any more time on her. Which was just as well because she didn’t have the time, energy or emotional reserves to waste on him.

And that made her sad and angry. It made her wish that once upon a time, she hadn’t been duped and damaged by a dope.

As Nathan headed down the hall toward administration, he was mentally fine-tuning his case to hire extra staff for the NICU. For the past week things had been nuts. Gladiator, aka Dylan Mason, was the first of some really sick babies. The staff in the unit was working their asses off and he wanted more bodies to care for his patients. Still, it wouldn’t be easy to convince the powers-that-be to spend more money, and he braced for the coming battle.

But when he walked into the outer office and saw Cindy at the desk, battles of the sexy sort took center stage. Probably because she’d refused every request to let him call her.

He’d never worked that hard for a phone number and, frankly, the struggle made him even more determined to get to the bottom of her resistance.

Cindy watched warily as he moved closer then settled his hip on the corner of her desk. There were two metal-framed chairs in front of it, but invading her space was more appealing. And this place could use a healthy dose of interesting. The ocean scenes on the beige walls made it generic decorating. With her blond hair and warm brown eyes, she sure brightened up her surroundings.

“Is there any job in this hospital that you don’t do?” he asked.

“Brain surgery.”

He laughed and that hadn’t been his expectation on his way to the administration offices. “So, can I ask what you’re doing here?”

“You can ask.” The way her full mouth curved up in a teasing smile finished the implication that she didn’t have to answer. “I’m an administrative intern.”

“Right. I remember. In addition to your other job?”

She nodded. “After the fall semester, I’ll have my degree in hospital administration. This summer was a good time to get the internship part accomplished.”

“Busy girl.”

She shrugged and the movement did amazing things to her breasts under the pink, silky blouse. By peeking over the desk he could see her black slacks. The business attire was buttoned-down professional. He’d also seen her in plain housekeeping clothes. But by far his favorite look was that short, strapless dress he’d first seen her in. The memory caused a very physical reaction that was a good indication his desire to see her out of it hadn’t gone away.

“So,” she said, tapping her pen on the desk. “I’m going to take a wild guess that you’re here to see Mr. Ryan. And not stalking me.”

“You would be correct. I have a staffing issue to discuss with him.”

“Specifically?”

“There’s a lot of work in the NICU. We’re going nuts up there.”

“And you want more help,” she guessed.

“Right in one.”

She swiveled her chair to the right and faced the computer monitor, then clicked away on the keyboard until data scrolled onto the screen. After studying it for a moment, she turned back and looked up.

“Good luck with that.”

He stared at her for several moments, then said, “What?”

“I’m pretty sure Mr. Ryan won’t give his approval to hire any more people.”

“You can tell that by looking at the computer?”

“Yes.”

He stood and looked down. “What is it? The great and powerful Oz?”

She grinned. “Pay no attention to the man behind the curtain.”

“Seriously? How can a computer tell you we’re not up to our necks in alligators?”

“All the productivity information is here. It’s about FTEs—”

“No acronyms, please.”

“Full time equivalents. Then there are RVUs—” She noticed his frown and her full mouth curved up. “Relative value units.”

“Dumb it down for me.”

He knew matching personnel to patient load was complicated but had deliberately steered clear of the minutiae because it wasn’t his problem. Now avoidance was paying off because she was talking to him.

“There’s a formula to determine the percentage of staff hours per patient day for every hospital department. For example, if you’re allowed four hours to get the job done and do it in three hours and forty-five minutes, you’re over a hundred percent. That’s exactly where administration wants it and you’re the best thing since sliced bread.”

“What if I want two more nurses?”

She turned to the computer, clicked the keys and assimilated the information that popped up. “According to this, NICU productivity is at ninety-four percent.”

“That sounds pretty good.”

“Not really. It means you have to give up a nurse.”

“You’re kidding,” he said.

“Do I look like I’m kidding?”

No, but she looked like she was enjoying this more than was absolutely necessary. She also looked like a woman who needed a full-body-contact kiss and he was just the relative value unit to give it to her.

“So, what happens if the NICU is full and the perinatologist sends over a high-risk pregnancy patient who delivers a twenty-four-week baby? How do I get a nurse?”

“The percentages are set at safe staffing levels. But in an extreme case, you contact the on-call nurse. If there’s a need for more help, you try to catch someone else at home and ask them to come in.”

“And what if we can’t find someone?”

“What if a brontosaurus walks in with two eggs and one of them cracks?” She folded her hands on the desk.

He knew what she was getting at, but this spirited back and forth was the most fun he’d had since the last time they’d talked.

“And your point is?” he asked, settling into the chair in front of her desk for a full-on view of her.

“You can’t staff for ‘what if.’ In a perfect world, yes. But we go by averages, then adjust to the reality we’re dealing with.”

“When I go in to see Ryan, am I going to get a rewind and play of this whole conversation?” It had been much more palatable coming from her, he realized.

“Probably.”

“Well, I’m already here.” And so was she. He had the testosterone rush to prove it. “Might as well go in and try to grind him down.”

“Good luck.”

Speaking of luck … It was time to stop talking shop and try again to grind her down. Or at least find out what her beef was with him.

“I’m having a NICU meeting today at five o’clock. Nurses, respiratory therapy. You should come. Everyone who works in the unit is invited.”

“I don’t work there.” Pink crept into her cheeks. “At least not on the babies.”

“Consider this part of your administrative internship. Good experience to come and hear the opposing point of view.”

“As tempting as that is …”

That was a no without saying no. And he knew she really didn’t need to be there. Personnel and administration were like Democrats and Republicans. They’d never see eye to eye. He just wanted the opportunity to spend a little time with her.

“I’d really like to see you.” He wasn’t talking about the meeting, and the way her eyes narrowed told him she knew it. “But this is me not using your phone number.”

“Look, Nathan, I’m really flattered that you asked. Partly because I thought that ship had sailed last week. But mostly because …” She stopped, clearly weighing how much to say. “Because every single woman younger than fifty who works in this facility, and some who don’t, are waiting in line to give you their phone numbers. But I’m not one of them.”

“Why is that?”

“Mostly because I can’t help wondering why you keep asking.”

“You mean am I up to something?” he asked.

“I mean is it just stubbornness? Ego? You being contrary?”

“Is it so hard to believe that I want to get to know you better?”

“Oh, please.” She made a scoffing sound. “That’s code for hooking up.”

He wouldn’t say no to a hookup, but that wasn’t his primary objective. “I’d really like to see you outside of work.”

“Let me be clear. And honest. You said it yourself. I’m a busy girl. I don’t have time in my schedule for a fling.”

“Neither do I.”

Her eyes flashed with what looked like anger and frustration. “In my experience, guys like you are all about the one who said no.”

“Later I’m probably going to be annoyed at being lumped in with the jerks.”

She ignored that and continued. “Let’s just skip to the end. How about if I just sleep with you? Then I can get you out of my life. It’s not even necessary to buy me dinner. It will save us both time. Seven minutes tops.”

“Ouch.” He’d heard both heat and hurt in her voice, and that took the sting out of the words for him. If only it had canceled out his curiosity, but he wasn’t that lucky. “What if I want to buy you dinner? No strings.”

“Do you?” she asked suspiciously.

“Take a chance. Find out for yourself.”

“If I do will you go away quietly?”

“Can we just take this one step at a time?” he asked. “Don’t spoil the surprise. That takes all the fun out of it.”

“In my experience, there’s nothing fun about a surprise.”

That was the second time she’d mentioned her experience. It didn’t take a mental giant to figure out that whatever happened hadn’t been good. If Nathan was as smart as everyone thought, he’d run from Cindy and her emotional baggage. But apparently he wasn’t that bright. Because he was inclined to sit here and wait until she agreed to go out with him.

“You know you want to say yes,” he coaxed.

“Were you raised by wolves? What part of no do you not understand?” She glared at him.

“My parents were incredibly civilized. Just not to each other.” He refused to take the bait. It didn’t escape his notice that she was pulling out all the stops to get him to give up. That made the challenge of wearing her down all the more stimulating. “Come on, Cindy. It will be fun.”

“The Titanic was fun, too, if you like freezing cold water and gigantic icebergs opening up the side of your ship like a tuna can.”

“I’m not leaving until you agree to have dinner with me tonight.” Tonight because he didn’t want to give her time to back out.

She thought for several moments and apparently decided he wasn’t backing down. After an exaggerated sigh, she said, “All right. But only because I have to eat.”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

Chapter Four

Cindy peeked out the window of her tiny three-bedroom home in the old part of Henderson. Nathan wasn’t there yet, but it was only six-fifty. She still had ten minutes to fret over and change the sleeveless black cotton sundress that had been her second outfit choice. If only her fairy godmothers were here with borrowed clothes, shoes and much-needed advice because she was running low on clothing options and was fresh out of common sense. A limited budget didn’t allow for a large wardrobe. Lack of variety sure cut down on time spent making a decision, but that didn’t erase the desperate wish to not care so much about looking her very best.

Because impressing Nathan Steele wasn’t the goal for tonight. Men were trouble and she didn’t need any more of it. This dinner was all about getting the doctor to back off and leave her alone so she could focus on her internship and the current job that helped pay her mountain of bills.

Cindy paced the living room’s wood floor and stayed far away from a mirror that would send her fashion critique impulses into warp drive. The back-and-forth walking lasted for another five minutes before she lifted the edge of the dollar store criss-crossed lace curtains just as a small, sporty silver Mercedes pulled up to the curb. The nerves she’d barely kept under control did a synchronized freak out.

“This is a very bad idea,” she muttered.

She grabbed the lightweight black sweater and her purse from the cedar chest that doubled as a coffee table sitting in front of the green floral love seat. Then she waited by the door for his knock. When it came, she whispered one Mississippi, two Mississippi, and continued until she got to ten before opening the door and forcing a bright smile.

“Hi. You’re early.”

Nathan’s gaze slid from the top of her head to her red-painted toes and the casual black and white low-heeled sandals. There was a gleam in his eyes when he smiled. “The rumor is that you’re on a tight schedule so wasting time wasn’t an option. And you’re obviously ready. You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.”

It was just a line, she told herself. He was only being polite. But all the disclaimers in the world couldn’t stop the glow that went nuclear inside her and the tightness in her chest when she looked at him. The sexy scruff on his cheeks and jaw was missing, proof that he’d shaved. For her.

That started more flutters in her stomach, but she managed to say, “You’re not so bad yourself.”

The truth was that he didn’t have a bad look. She’d seen him in scrubs and in a tux. The current crisply pressed khaki slacks and cream-colored sport shirt showed off the tan on his muscular arms with the added benefit of enhancing his broad shoulders and trim waist. It was impossible to pick a favorite Nathan view when he looked like sin-for-the-taking in everything.

Or nothing?

That thought sent hormones surging through her, and she quickly stepped outside on the porch. After locking the door she said, “Let’s go.”

Nathan followed behind her on the sidewalk so if he found her hurried exit weird, she didn’t know, what with not being able to see his expression. At the curb he opened the car, then cupped her elbow in his palm, handing her inside. The touch did nothing to calm her nerves. In fact it started tingles line dancing up and down her arms.

Before there was time to anesthetize them, he was in the driver’s seat, starting the car. The interior was small and intimate, not nearly enough space to dissipate the masculine scent of his skin. It surrounded her as surely as if he held her in his arms. Less than two weeks ago he’d done just that, the night he hadn’t recognized her. Being that close to him had stirred a fair amount of panic and then she’d made a dash for the exit.

He’d only caught up with her because her shoe broke. Moments later she’d called him a jerk and he’d laughed, then said he wanted to see her again. Turning him down flat hadn’t worked so well and here she was, out of the frying pan and into the fire. So to speak.

Speaking of speaking, she wasn’t doing any, so she tried to think of something witty to say. All she could come up with was, “So where are you taking me?”

Before turning left onto Lake Mead Boulevard, he glanced over. “Have you ever had a nice surprise?”

She wasn’t sure why he’d asked but gave the question some serious thought. “Probably, but I can’t remember one off the top of my head.”

“Well, brace yourself. I promise this one will be good.”

He turned from Horizon Ridge Parkway onto Eastern Avenue and drove up the hill, then pulled into the parking lot of Capriotti’s Italian restaurant. It was dusk and not the optimum time to appreciate the lights across the Vegas Valley, but after the sun set, there would be a spectacular view.

Inside, the muted light made for a romantic atmosphere, and a cozy booth for two in the back corner cranked it up several notches. Their arms touched and Cindy swore she actually heard the crackle of electricity that was anything but static. A little sideways move gave her space but no real breathing room.

The last time a guy had taken her to a restaurant with candles and white tablecloths, he’d sweet-talked his way into her life and her bank account, then proceeded to rob her blind. Nathan probably didn’t need her money, but he stirred a need deep inside and she had an uneasy feeling that he could take from her something far more precious than her good credit rating.

A forty-something waiter with salt-and-pepper hair and wearing black pants and a long-sleeved white shirt appeared beside them. “Dr. Steele, it’s nice to see you again.”

Nathan’s smile was friendly. “Hello, Mario. How are you?”

“Very well.” He looked at Cindy and bowed slightly. “Welcome to Capriotti’s. May I get you something from the bar?”

Dr. Charming met her gaze. “What would you like?”

“Surprise me,” she said wryly.

“Mario, I think we’ll have a bottle of my favorite wine.”

“The pinot noir. Excellent choice. I’ll bring it right out.” Before leaving, he handed them menus.

When they were alone Cindy opened hers and said, “So they know your favorite wine. Obviously, you come here often.”

“The food is really good.”

“Do your other women like it?” She was looking at the food choices but not really seeing the words. When she glanced up she saw that he looked more amused than anything else.

“My other women?” he asked. “In spite of what you think and the hospital gossip you base it on, there is no line of women.”

Before she could refute that, someone delivered a basket containing warm rolls wrapped in a white cloth. With a flourish, the guy mixed oil and balsamic vinegar on a plate for dipping. Then Mario returned with the bottle of red and skillfully opened it with a corkscrew and twist of the wrist. After Nathan sipped and approved, the waiter poured them each a glass.

“Do you need a moment or are you ready to order?”

“Cindy?”

She saw fettuccine alfredo and pointed, “I’ll have that.”

“My favorite,” Nathan agreed. “Make it two. And two Caesar salads.”