The Boss's Special Delivery. Raye Morgan

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      A series of expressions moved across his face. She didn’t know if he was amused or incredulous.

      “You just wait,” he said, shaking his head and laughing softly.

      “And I can assist you with some of the medical stuff, too,” she said, suddenly feeling she needed to explain that she had certain skills that deserved recognition.

      “I don’t think so,” he said. “You don’t have any nursing training.”

      “But I do.”

      That got his attention. He straightened and stared at her. “What?”

      “I was in my second year at Houston Medical School in the nursing program when I got pregnant and had to drop out.”

      He made a whistling sound. “Wow. That will be very helpful.”

      She shrugged. “I don’t have certification.”

      “No. And of course, you won’t be expected to take over any nursing duties. But just to know you’re experienced will be a big help. In a town like this, every little bit of knowledge counts.”

      He favored her with a lopsided grin that hinted at a new respect for her. That curled her toes for some unknown reason.

      “So you see, you were always meant for this job,” he said. “Kismet.”

      Kismet. She shivered. She knew the word just meant fate, but she didn’t like it. There was something romantic about it and romance was something she was dead set against.

      And that reminded her of something. Millie’s beautiful daughter Shelley was set to marry Matt’s brother Rafe. Everyone at the café had been buzzing about nothing else for days. Annie liked Shelley a lot, and she’d been just as interested as anyone in the progress toward the ceremony. Now she wondered about Matt. She knew he wasn’t married, but she couldn’t help but speculate about why that was. He was successful and attractive and wasn’t getting any younger. Men like him were usually spoken for by now.

      “Okay, Doc,” she said, forcing a stern frown. Craning her neck, she looked at the monitor screen. “What’s the verdict?”

      “You and the baby seem fine.”

      The sense of relief she felt surprised her. She hadn’t realized she might be more than a little concerned.

      “You see? All that worrying for nothing.”

      “No.” He shook his head. “It’s never for nothing.”

      He had that one right. The longer she hung around this man, the more attractive he was looking. Reason enough to worry. Reason enough to be very, very careful.

      And time to escape from this situation.

      “You going to let me out of this thing?” she asked.

      “Sure. Hold on.”

      He was turning off switches on the fetal monitor and she watched, starting to feel pretty darn pleased with herself. She’d been in close proximity to this very appealing man—he’d even had his hands on various parts of her body and had leaned very close a few times, so close that she could feel his body heat and catch a hint of some sort of clean and soapy scent—and had been assaulted with all sorts of tempting male virility. Yet she’d remained completely unmoved by it. She was doing okay. She wasn’t even hyperventilating.

      Hooray for me, she thought silently, giving herself a little smile.

      And then, as he removed the strap, his hand brushed her breast. She froze and her gaze jerked up to meet his. Intentions were everything and she needed to see his, right now. What she saw didn’t make her feel any better.

      There was no hint of any intention to mess with her, or even to take the chance at a little touching. But there was something else that was even worse. Something in his eyes held hers for a beat too long and while it did, she felt a jolt, a sudden connection, a new sensual awareness that snapped between them and made her gasp.

      His eyes changed. He knew exactly what she was thinking.

      “Sorry,” he murmured, turning to put away the equipment.

      But she was breathless and desperate not to let him know, slowly pulling air into her lungs and forcing back the panicky feeling in her chest.

      “If you want to get your things together, I’ll drive you home,” he said, still working with the equipment.

      If only it was that easy. If only she could zing back a one-liner that would singe his hair. If only she could tell him to take a hike, that she could just darn well take care of that herself. But she didn’t have her car and she didn’t have any friends she could call. So unless she wanted to walk across town as night set in, she would have to let Matt drive her home.

      She closed her eyes for a moment, making a silent promise. As soon as she could, she was going to get out of this mess. And once she was back on her feet, she was never, ever going to put herself in this kind of dependency again. One way or another, she was going to take control of her life.

      Cruising slowly down the side street and turning on Main, Matt glanced at Annie. Somehow she managed to look as if she were perched on the edge of her seat despite the seat belt that had her securely strapped in. A casual observer would have thought she was being abducted. She looked ready to wrench the door handle open and leap from the car once she got the chance.

      Shaking his head, he stifled the impulse to let her know how annoying it was to be treated as if he were conducting a shanghaiing operation. But he was pretty sure complaining would only make things worse. He couldn’t yell at someone to stop being so scared of everything. That didn’t ever work.

      He wasn’t sure how he’d ended up taking care of her anyway. He was too busy for this. He’d only gone into Millie’s to grab piece of pie and a cup of coffee that was supposed to keep him awake while he worked late at his office at Allman Industries, and the next thing he knew, he was volunteering to take charge of another stray being.

      That was what she reminded him of: an injured animal. As a boy he’d been famous for bringing home lost things—puppies, kittens, a garter snake, a baby skunk. He remembered a wounded bird he’d once found. He’d carried the poor thing around in a shoe box, doing everything a ten-year-old kid could think of to help it heal. He’d lavished all sorts of attention on it, trying to get it to eat and drink, and it had learned to stay still in his hands. But the look in its bright black eyes was always wary, as though it was sure, despite all his kindness, that he was probably going to hurt it in the end. And that was the look he saw in her eyes as well.

      He felt a quick stab of anger at whoever had done this to her. A woman just didn’t get this skittish without cause. He wanted to soothe her, tell her not to worry, but he knew that anything he said might just make things worse.

      “So tell me, what made you head back to Chivaree?” he asked, hoping he sounded casual.

      She glanced at him sideways. “I told you. I lived here when I was a kid.”

      “Did you go to Chivaree schools?”

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