Falling for Her Impossible Boss. Alison Roberts

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СКАЧАТЬ she whispered gleefully.

      Except the surprise was hers. Perched on the end of Lady Dorothy’s bed, stuffing a hamburger into his mouth, was Oliver Dawson.

      CHAPTER THREE

      ‘BELLA!’ Lady Dorothy sounded delighted. ‘You’ve come to visit me? What a lovely surprise.’

      ‘You’re Bella?’ Oliver Dawson sounded distinctly less delighted. In fact, he used the hand that wasn’t holding the hamburger to cover his eyes as he rubbed his temples with his thumb and middle finger.

      ‘Have you got a headache, darling?’ Lady Dorothy asked.

      ‘No.’ The word was a growl.

      Bella was still staring, dumbfounded. Oliver Dawson was sitting on a patient’s bed eating a cheeseburger. A patient who had called him ‘darling’, no less.

      A ripped-open packet of very unhealthy French fries was lying on the bed beside him, the contents well depleted. What’s more, he had loosened his tie, undone the top button of his shirt and rolled the sleeves up. Even his hair looked slightly dishevelled. He looked …

      Human.

      And gorgeous. Gorgeous enough to make Bella’s heart skip a beat. And then another. Uh-oh! She recognised that symptom a little too well. It was closely followed, as usual, by that melting sensation deep in her belly that ended with a delicious tingle. The fact that it was Mr Oliver Dawson she was feeling attracted to was disturbing to say the least.

      ‘This is my son, Oliver,’ Lady Dorothy said. ‘Oliver, this is Bella. I was telling you about her, remember?’

      When he took his hand off his eyes, Oliver nodded wearily. He also looked straight at Bella and she could swear his colour had heightened and he had a haunted look in his eyes. He was quite obviously excruciatingly embarrassed. Well, of course he was. Caught out looking human and eating junk food!

      Ha. Finally, she had the advantage.

      Sadly, the feeling of one-upmanship lasted precisely five seconds at which point a scratching noise could be clearly heard coming from the box in her arms. Scratching that was followed by a very plaintive miaow.

      Lady Dorothy’s eyes widened. ‘Oh, my goodness … Did you bring Bib in to visit me?’

      ‘Um …’ Bella’s gaze slid away from Oliver’s but there was no getting out of this. A tiny paw had appeared in the centre hole where the flaps of the box didn’t quite meet, as though the kitten was putting her hand up to be noticed. ‘Yes.’

      ‘Show me.’ Lady Dorothy tried to shift the bag of French fries she had on her lap but she couldn’t hold it and it fell, spilling fries onto the floor. Before either her fumbled movement or the mess could even be commented on, Bella lifted the fluffy grey and white kitten from the box and deposited her on Lady Dorothy’s lap.

      Bib, bless her, took one look at the old lady and stood up on her hind legs, stretching so that she could rub her head on Lady Dorothy’s jawbone. They could all hear the purring that filled the sudden silence in the room like a miniature chainsaw.

      ‘Oh … oh …’ Lady Dorothy’s voice had a noticeable wobble. ‘What a wee darling.’ She reached up and it didn’t seem to matter that she had to use the back of her hand to stroke the kitten. Bib nimbly climbed a little further, settled into a sphinx-like shape on the platform of a shoulder and started washing the nearest patch of skin she could find. Just beside the diamond stud twinkling in Lady Dorothy’s earlobe.

      Lady Dorothy sniffed. And smiled, tilting her head to the side a little as a form of caress for the kitten.

      Bella had to swallow a lump in her own throat as she observed the pleasure being taken on both sides of the newly formed friendship. When she heard the masculine throat being cleared behind her, she turned in astonishment. Was the poignancy of his mother’s joy enough to give him a lump in his throat? Maybe he was capable of caring about others.

      Maybe she was going to have to readjust her opinion of him.

      Oliver knew he had to say something but, for the life of him, he couldn’t think what.

      He’d seen this nurse in pale green, shapeless theatre scrubs with a hat trying to cover her hair. He’d seen her in a dark blue, only slightly less shapeless nurse’s uniform, with her hair scraped back and tied into a semblance of submission. When she walked into his mother’s room, it was like seeing a totally different woman.

      The oversized T-shirt had a neck big enough to have fallen over one shoulder to reveal a singlet top beneath. Long, long legs were encased in tight leggings and ended with shoes that had impossibly high heels. And the hair was loose. A glorious cascade of golden curls that went halfway down her back and would make any man’s fingers itch to bury themselves in its length.

      Dear God, what was he thinking? This was the nurse who had elderly patients up line dancing. Who was breaking umpteen rules right now bringing an animal into a hospital ward. Who bumped into things and huffed germs all over Theatre because she was clearly distracted by more important things—like the next new pair of shoes, perhaps?

      Except that right now she wasn’t thinking about shoes. And if she’d brought any germs into the room with that kitten, the risk was more than worth it because his mother had not only forgotten why she was here, she had tears of joy rolling down her cheeks and Oliver had never seen that before. Ever.

      His mother was not the only one crying either. Bella had turned towards him when he’d cleared his throat a moment ago and those extraordinarily big, blue eyes were shining with moisture. Those full, soft-looking lips were curved into a smile, too. Not the mischievous type of grin they usually looked ready to impart. This was much softer. An expression of empathy and an invitation to share the gift of what was happening with his mother and the kitten.

      He really ought to say something. He couldn’t sit here staring at her. Not when she was staring back at him and the eye contact had gone on just that shade too long.

      An urge to say something about hospital regulations regarding the lack of visitation rights for pets sprang to mind as Oliver managed to break the eye contact but his gaze fell on the evidence of his appalling dinner still spread over the bed. If his colleagues heard about this, especially the cardiac surgeons, he’d be a laughing stock, and avoiding any such humiliation had always been inbred in any member of the Dawson family.

      Oliver sucked in a breath as he looked back at the kitten and then at Bella.

      ‘Ah … could I suggest that whatever happens in Lady Dorothy’s room after hours stays in Lady Dorothy’s room?’

      Relief flooded Bella’s face, which then lit up with precisely the kind of mischievous grin he knew she’d been capable of. Oddly, it had a glow that he hadn’t expected. One that crossed the room and made him feel … warm. Happy? Oliver couldn’t be sure because it was a very unfamiliar sensation. Definitely not unpleasant, however.

      ‘Sweet,’ Bella said. She cast a significant glance at the remnants of fast food and dimples flashed in her cheeks. She was obviously trying not to laugh.

      Which was good because it annoyed Oliver and dispersed the strange effect of her smile.

      ‘I’d СКАЧАТЬ