The Dangers Of Dating Dr Carvalho. Tina Beckett

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СКАЧАТЬ his chart—with dark wavy hair that hung low on his forehead and even darker eyes, he was mesmerizingly beautiful. Kind of apt for someone in his line of work, but Sophia could swear his good looks owed nothing to plastic surgery. There were faint crinkles radiating from the corners of his eyes and a long line bracketed his left cheek, evidence of a slightly lopsided smile that she could remember even from his childhood.

      The times he’d smiled, that was.

      Both brothers had seemed strangely grown up, even as young children. Which made sense, considering they’d lived in one of the notorious favelas that dotted the landscape.

      And although Lucas still spoke flawless Portuguese, an American accent threaded its way through each and every word, sending shivers over her each time he opened his mouth.

      Or she could just be catching the flu.

      Realizing she hadn’t responded to his outrageous comment, she climbed to her feet, hoping the added height would snap her back to normal.

      Mistake. Because her eyes only came up to his neck, where a pulse beat a steady tattoo against his skin.

      Time to send him on his way. “Now that you’ve had your fun, do you need help getting back to your room?”

      As nonchalant as he might appear, she couldn’t forget he was less than a week out of major surgery to repair damage to his liver. And when she glanced higher, she spied a tell-tale glimmer of moisture across his upper lip, but he held her gaze with a steadiness that surprised her.

      He shook his head, his eyes trailing down her face then pausing to retrace their path, a slight pucker appearing between his dark brows. She forced herself to remain still when he reached across the desk, his thumb brushing the area just below her right nostril and sliding to the bottom of her lip. Her heart rate shot through the roof, stomach quivering at the unexpected contact. She should be furious at his audacity, angry at how quickly he’d noticed what she’d done her best to hide, but the warmth of his skin somehow blotted out everything...except the sensation of flesh sliding against flesh.

      She swallowed then answered his unspoken question. “I was born with a cleft lip. It was repaired when I was one.”

      “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have...” For the first time he looked uncomfortable.

      Uncomfortable with what? The image of how she must have looked before her reconstructive surgery?

      Surely not. But this was a man who sold beauty for a living...who knew perfection—or imperfection—the second he saw it.

      Very few people ever spotted her scar. And she’d had enough attention from the male population to know that her curves tended to be the first thing a man noticed about her. Maybe that was a blessing.

      But she couldn’t count the number of times she’d wished a man would look into her eyes rather than stare down the front of her shirt.

      Yeah? Well, here was one who had, and look what he zeroed in on.

      “Don’t worry about it. I’m sure in your line of work...” She let the words hang in mid-air.

      His brows went up. “Why do I get the feeling the last part of that comment would have been less than flattering.”

      “Not unflattering, just realistic. I’m sure your training lends itself to searching for flaws and then fixing them.”

      “Ah, yes. Well, if that were the case, I have two pretty big flaws right now, don’t I?”

      She blinked in surprise. “Really? And what would those be?” Because she couldn’t see the slightest hint of any defect in the man standing in front of her. In fact, she was kind of looking forward to the moment when he’d turn around and walk away, just so she could get a peek at what all the other people in the wing could still see.

      He lifted his bandaged arm. “Bullet holes tend to announce their presence in no uncertain terms.”

      Yes, they did. And that was her cue to get this man back to bed where he belonged.

      Deus! That last thought carried a few more Freudian connotations than she cared to admit.

      A laugh bubbled up her throat before she could stop it, and she slapped a hand over her mouth, eyes wide.

      “What?” he said.

      “Nothing. We just need to get you back in...in your room before you collapse.”

      His glance tracked to her chest, where her nametag hung, and then back up to her face. “Sophia, right? You were in the hospital after my surgery.”

      The laughter dried up in a flash. “Yes.”

      “And when I took my first steps after the surgery.”

      She nodded. “I work here.”

      The words sounded ridiculous, even to her, but she did not want to explain that they’d met before. Or ask if he remembered her from when he’d been four years old. Of course he wouldn’t. He’d had a brand-new life in a brand-new country. Even his last name was different now than it had been when he’d been at the orphanage.

      The weird thing was that seeing him again dredged up that infantile crush she’d had on him way back when—her very first memory from her childhood days. She’d seen that beautiful face and stared at him in awe...right before she’d grabbed hold of Marcos’s hand instead—too afraid to say anything to the boy standing next to him. She’d warmed up to him later but it had been a very different warmth from what she was feeling right now.

      Those brown eyes touched on her scar once more and then brushed across her lips. Could he sense her thoughts? Deus, she hoped not. With a rough indrawn breath his gaze left her and moved to his uninjured hand, which was still hanging onto the IV pole, knuckles white as his grip tightened further. “I think you’re right. I’ve had about all I can stand for one day. Would you mind giving me a hand?”

      Sophia steadied her emotions and drew on years of training. “Sure.”

      Moving around the desk, she commandeered the IV stand and tucked her shoulder beneath his arm. “You ready?”

      Even as he gritted out an affirmative, and they started to make their way back down the corridor, she was very aware of the warmth of his body against hers and the fact that her arm was resting across naked skin where his robe parted. Her heart shivered a couple of times then leaped into space, landing at the bottom of her abdominal cavity with a thud. It didn’t quite shatter, but there was definitely a crack or two lining its tough protective surface.

      Get real, Sophia. He’s just one more patient in a long list of patients. He’ll be gone in a matter of days or at the most a few weeks.

      Maybe it was better if he never remembered her. If she never mentioned their time together at the orphanage.

      She attempted small talk as they shuffled back down the hallway. “It’s really bacana that you and your brother found each other after all these years.”

      “Bacana?” Lucas stopped for a second to look down at her.

      She searched around for an English word that would get across the meaning. “It’s um...cool. СКАЧАТЬ