The Boss's Special Delivery. Raye Morgan

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СКАЧАТЬ maybe she could relax a little. Millie was her boss, the owner of the café, and a thoroughly decent woman. Annie had come to realize lately that thoroughly decent people were hard to find and worth their weight in gold once discovered.

      And he was a doctor, anyway. She relaxed a little more. She was more disposed to trust a doctor than she was to trust most men. After all, there was that Hippocratic oath thing.

      “Just give a holler if you need anything,” Millie added.

      “Will do.”

      Annie finally got her eyes back open in time to see Millie leaving, and the very large man staying. As he continued to hover over her, he murmured something that made the others melt away. She appreciated that he’d dismissed the audience, because she’d had about enough of being the center of attention for a while.

      Still, that meant she was alone with this man. Needing to reassert a little control of the situation, she pulled up to sit rather than staying down where he’d put her.

      He didn’t object. Instead, he put the cool cloth to her forehead, gave her a sip of water and then began taking her pulse. And finally her head cleared enough so that she could see straight again.

      She looked him over, still groggy, head aching. Not bad, actually. He was handsome in a rugged, outdoorsy way—his thick hair dark and windblown looking, as though he’d just come in from chopping wood or chasing bears or something, and his eyes incredibly blue against his tanned skin. He looked familiar. She’d seen him in here at Millie’s before. And she was pretty sure she’d seen him in years past. But it had only been a month since she’d come back to the Texas town of Chivaree and her ten or so years away had dimmed a lot of memories.

      “How are you feeling?” he asked, studying her in a detached, clinical sort of way.

      “Woozy.”

      He nodded and his eyes narrowed a bit. “Do you do this often?”

      She struggled for normalcy. “Meet men by swooning into their arms?” she asked as impudently as she could manage. “No, as a matter of fact, you’re my first.”

      He gave her an assessing look. “You’re pregnant.”

      He said it calmly, but to her it sounded like an accusation, and she bristled. As an unwed mother-to-be, she bristled a lot lately.

      “Really?” she responded quickly, straightening her shoulders as though she had to get ready for battle. “What was your first clue?”

      He looked up and really met her dark gaze for the first time, really seemed to look into her eyes and see who she was. She had to stifle a shiver. She didn’t think she’d ever seen bluer eyes.

      But there was more. Something about him made her feel uncertain and a little self-conscious. He had the look of a man who did and said whatever occurred to him, without much worrying about what was appropriate to the occasion. If he saw something about her he liked…or didn’t like…he was likely to be quite frank about it. And he proved she’d read him right with his next statement.

      “You’re also a smart aleck,” he said dryly.

      Still defensive, Annie stared right back at him. She had to make sure men like this knew she couldn’t be intimidated. She’d had a lot of experience at this sort of thing lately. Learning how to protect herself by being a bit caustic hadn’t come naturally, but she was learning.

      “If I want character analysis, I’ll go see a psychologist.”

      The corners of his mouth twitched. She wasn’t sure if it was with humor or a quick irritation. Either way was okay with her—just so long as he realized she wasn’t going to put up with any baloney from him—or any other man.

      “Why pay for that when I’m prepared to analyze for free?” he said. Putting his head to the side, he pretended to study her. “Let’s see if I’ve got a proper fix on you. You’re headstrong, stubborn, sure you’re usually right…and a hard worker.”

      His casual assumptions—as well as his cynical tone—were really annoying her, and she said the first thing that came to mind.

      “So’s your old man,” she shot back.

      His sudden grin was a stunner, white teeth flashing, eyes crinkling, and real humor lit up his face. “I didn’t know you knew him.”

      Okay, there it was—the main thing she had to watch out for. Everything in her wanted to like him. He looked…well, nice. And that was even more dangerous than his undeniable sex appeal—the macho way he took charge so naturally; the breathtaking chest muscles that seemed to swell under his light polo shirt; the way he was poised, down on one knee before her, like a knight asking a lady for her scarf to wear into battle.

      She blinked quickly and shook her head, furious at herself for letting her imagination run wild on that last one. What was she doing, sinking back into childhood? She’d spent a good part of her youth blocking out reality by creating a dream world in which she was a lost princess. She couldn’t go back to that. Too much fantasy could corrupt her reasoning powers and that would be a gateway straight to the danger zone. She was a grown woman with a baby on the way and she couldn’t indulge herself like this anymore. Life was tough—she had to be hard to survive it.

      Still, that was difficult to do when the man she faced was so incredibly good-looking and dressed so well. Besides the blue polo shirt, he wore clean fashionable denim slacks that fit like a glove and a soft suede jacket that clung to him in all the right places. What a contrast to her slightly silly green waitress uniform. And also, what a clear picture of their different stations in life. He looked like he shopped at Neiman-Marcus. She looked like she hadn’t shopped in years. Hardly princess material.

      She looked away quickly, aware more than ever that they were alone. This was not a place she wanted to be. Besides, it was time she got back to work. Millie was shorthanded today and Annie didn’t want to risk bad feelings at this job. She needed it badly, and there weren’t many who would hire a woman almost seven months pregnant.

      “May I go now?” she said, needing to ask as he was blocking her way.

      He gazed at her levelly. “No, you may not. You’re still pale and I don’t like your pulse rate.”

      She flashed a quick glare his way. “There are things I don’t like about you, but I’ve got the manners not to list them.”

      He made a comical face. “Impossible.”

      She frowned a little nervously. “What’s impossible?”

      “That there’s something about me not to like.” He was grinning again. She really wished he wouldn’t. “I’m a terrific guy. Everyone says so.”

      Great. That was all she needed. Not only was he incredibly handsome and a great dresser, he was popular, too. At least, if you asked him. Reaching up, she pushed her thick dark wavy hair back behind her ear.

      “That’s what happens when you depend on selective polling,” she said coolly. Even if she looked like a waitress, she could act as snooty as any Dallas cattle heiress if she tried hard enough. “All the votes aren’t in yet, mister.”

      One sleek dark eyebrow rose with just a touch of surprise. “Doctor,” he corrected smoothly.

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