Cindy's Doctor Charming (4 page)

“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.”

C
indy 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.”

“Excellent choice,” Mario approved, then quietly left them.

Nathan picked up his wineglass. “Here's to good surprises.”

“From your mouth to God's ear.” There was a crystal
ring when she touched her glass to his. After taking a drink she said, “That's very nice.”

“See? Already something good.” He grinned.

She wasn't so sure. The night wasn't over yet and getting through unscathed was a goal in jeopardy when he looked at her like she was dessert. That wouldn't be a problem except she
wanted
to be dessert.

He leaned back against the leather seat and stretched an arm along the back, his fingers nearly brushing her bare shoulder. “So, how are mumsy and daddy?”

“Actually my parents both passed away several years ago. My father nursed mom through cancer. Then a couple of years later, he had a heart attack.”

“I'm sorry, Cindy. I didn't mean to bring up—it was a bad joke.”

“My fault. I was messing with you that night at the fundraiser.” She settled her white cloth napkin in her lap. “It was hard losing them both so close together, but Dad was never the same after Mom died. I think he missed her. Now it's just my brother and me.”

“Is he coming home from college for the summer?”

“No. He's taking a class, working and sharing an apartment with some buddies. I'm helping out with expenses.” Which wouldn't be necessary if the sweet-talking jerk who'd wined and dined her hadn't cleaned out the money her parents left for their children's education. She took a sip of wine. “You already know about my pathetically normal childhood. I'd like to hear about how you didn't have one.”

He frowned, an expression just this side of brooding but no less appealing than his grin. “My father was always working. Because he was never home, Mother had hobbies. She took classes. Painting. Knitting. Needlepoint. Calligraphy. Aura reading.” Over the flickering light of
the candle, his gaze connected with hers. “Neither of them were around much. I became pretty self-sufficient.”

“It sounds to me like your mother was hurt about your father working so much. She was probably hiding in her hobbies.” She finished off the wine in her glass. “And I can't decide if you take after her or your father.”

“How about neither?”

She shook her head. “You put in a lot of hours at the hospital.”

“And you know this—how?”

“While the women wait in your line, they talk about you.” The snarky remark made him smile, just as she'd intended. “It's said that you're dedicated. So either you're a workaholic like your father, or you're hiding like your mom.”

Just then Mario brought their salads. “Is there anything else I can get you?”

“Not right now,” Nathan said.

The light, carefree expression had disappeared and it was her fault. Cindy wished for a filter from her brain to her mouth, but it was too late for that.

They ate in silence for a few minutes. At least he did. She pushed romaine lettuce and croutons around the plate and not much of it got eaten. She wished she'd kept her views to herself.

Finally she couldn't stand the silence. “Look, Nathan, it's just my opinion and worth what you paid for it. About now you're probably regretting this invitation. The offer of sex with no strings attached must look pretty good. Sometimes I don't know when to keep my mouth shut.”

His eyes turned even darker with an intensity that was almost tangible as his gaze settled on her mouth. “Let's just say you've given me food for thought. Perspective that's both sincere and sweet.”

Yay her. It felt like he'd yelled at her even though he hadn't raised his voice. Unlike that day at the hospital, this time he had a reason to be mad. Amateur psychoanalysis probably wasn't what he'd signed up for tonight in his quest to know her. He'd no doubt learned everything necessary to form the opinion that this night had been a cheap validation for her pronouncement that he should have taken no for an answer.

 

Two hours later after more to eat and drink and entertaining, idle conversation, they were standing in front of her open door. Cindy was pleasantly full and still rocking a lovely buzz from his favorite red wine.

“Thanks for dinner.” She looked up and her breath caught.

The inside light showed the glitter in Nathan's eyes as his knuckles lightly grazed her cheek. “I'm going to kiss you.”

“Do you really think that's a good idea—”

“No. But all night I haven't been able to take my eyes off you. I want to see how that sexy, sassy, smart mouth tastes.”

Her heart started to pound until she thought it would jump right out of her chest. “Oh, my—”

“I can't help it.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear with a shaking hand. “I want to feel all the passion you put into being so tough.”

Words were trapped in her throat so she started to shake her head. The feel of his lips stopped her as surely as it shut down all rational thought. One moment his mouth was on hers and the next she was plastered against his body, her arms twining around his neck. His big, warm hands restlessly rubbed up and down her back until her skin prickled with awareness and every nerve ending was on fire. Her
breasts were crushed to his chest and ached for the touch of his hand.

In an awkward, erotic dance, he maneuvered her inside then closed the door. As he backed her against the wall, the sound of their raspy, ragged breathing filled her small front room and she let her purse fall off her shoulder. When her arms were around his neck again, he slid his palm over her hip then down her thigh before inching up the hem of her dress.

He hooked his finger into the waistband of her panties and drew them down until she stepped out of the restraining prim cotton. Kissing her senseless, he slipped a finger inside her and played until she was mindless with desire. A breathy moan escaped her throat and he groaned.

“Cindy,” he breathed against her cheek. “I've wanted you since the night of that damned dinner. But if you don't want this, I'll—”

“No. I want…” Her voice was a wanton whisper. She'd never felt such a powerful need so completely consuming her. There was a very real possibility she would simply implode if he didn't take her in the next ten seconds. “Now. Nathan. Please. Do you have—”

“Yeah.”

He dropped his wallet on the floor after pulling out a condom and lowered his pants and briefs before covering himself. Then he lifted her, and as her legs circled his waist, he entered her, bracing his forearm against the wall. The thickness of him filled her and took her breath away at the same time. He drove her higher and higher until she shattered into a thousand points of light and shuddered with the pieces of pleasure surging through her.