Tempted By Her Single Dad Boss. Annie O'Neil

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СКАЧАТЬ quickly as she’d fallen, Maggie pulled herself back into the ambulance doorway.

       What the hell just happened there?

      “Right.” Alex needlessly clapped his hands together. There was hardly a cast of thousands standing at attention. “Everyone we need here?”

      Billy nodded. “Vicky, me, and Maggie, of course.”

      As if he wasn’t aware of the flame-haired beauty who’d burst out of the ambulance like a film starlet ready to take the world by storm.

      Billy pointed toward Salty’s boat. “There’re a couple of ferry crew over there by your fishing boat. Should be enough. A few passengers upstairs if we need ’em, but I would say they’re more hungover than helpful. We’ll take your lead.”

      Alex’s years in the military kicked to the fore. He walked with Vicky and Billy toward Salty’s boat, issuing sharp, exacting instructions about how they’d load the twins onto the vessel using Maggie’s pre-established guidelines. He knew he sounded curt, like an automaton, but it helped blinker his thoughts. Right up until Maggie jumped down out of the cab and walked toward him. She was all legs and then some. From the tips of her high-profile athletic shoes to the farthest reach of her sprawl of flame-colored curls, she moved like a cross between a jungle cat and a supermodel, as if walking along an unsteady ferry deck with a storm raging around her was the most natural thing in the world.

      “Dr. Kirkland? Where do you want me?”

       All sorts of places it wouldn’t be appropriate to go into right now.

      He shook his head. He felt like he was being invaded by an Alex he had never met before. One part Viking and one part Don Juan. In other words, one hundred percent opposite from the man he needed to be right now.

      “Dr. Kirkland?” Maggie held up her hands and gave her fingers a wiggle. “Where do you want them and what do you want them doing?”

      An explicit image of Maggie raking her colorful nails down his naked back blindsided him.

      Her presence was more than distracting. She was lighting up all sorts of primal sensors he’d long thought were dead. Sparks and shocks were crackling against his insides as if someone was trying to start up an ice-cold truck in his privates.

      He pulled off his hat again and scrubbed his hands through his hair. Half of him wanted to send her back to Boston on the bright yellow rescue boat he could see approaching at the far end of the ferry. The other half? He crushed the thoughts into the darkest corner of his brain he could find. He’d deal with that later.

      “Stay with the ambo. We’ll sort out the swiftest transfer method and let you know when we need you.”

      She pushed herself up to her full height, eyes flashing with something he couldn’t put a name to. Anger? Frustration?

      “Listen here, Mr. Southern Drawl. That cute little accent and sexy hero act of yours isn’t going to work on me. I’m here to help, not stand around and look pretty.”

      She did that all right. Without even trying.

      Wait a minute. Sexy hero? Hardly. Work-focused single dad with about as much fun in his entire body as Maggie looked to have in her pinkie finger would be a better description. And a “cute” accent? Where he came from, all his accent did was ensure everyone knew he was from the wrong side of the tracks. It was why he’d joined the military. Which side of the tracks a person came from didn’t hold much sway on a battlefield.

      Alex cleared his throat and readjusted his stance to that of commanding officer—a role he’d relinquished the day his wife had been killed. “Precisely why I need you to stay at the ambo. We’re loading the patients one by one. At my clinic we don’t leave juvenile, post-operative spinal injury patients on their own.”

      What the—? Who’d drained his personality and refilled him with formaldehyde?

      Maggie’s dismissive shrug confirmed she didn’t think much of his behavior either. “I wasn’t planning on abandoning them. And in my world? We call patients by their names. They have them, you know. Peyton and Connor Walsh. They’re kids. And they’re scared. Might be a good idea to come over here and introduce yourself before you carry on barking orders at everyone.”

      Irritation flared in him hot and bright. He took patient care immensely seriously. He’d set up the clinic with the highest of standards for precisely that reason, and here she was giving him How to Treat a Patient for Beginners tips.

      She was right, of course. Infuriating. But right.

      “Hello...” Maggie waved a hand in front of his face. “Anybody home?”

      Alex frowned. “There is a procedure to be followed. Chitchat can come later.”

      “Wow.” Maggie didn’t even try to hide her distaste at his response.

      He held up a hand and started ticking off questions on his fingers. “Have you checked on their life vests? The cover for transport? The waterproofing. The transfer protocol?”

      “Obviously. We kind of saw to that when the ferry smashed into the rocks and we all thought we might drown.” She stared at him for a moment then started to laugh. “Omigawd! I didn’t put two and two together, but you’re him.”

      “Who?” He was her boss, for one. That should be clear enough. His name was stitched onto his jacket. Made it easy to identify staff in moments of chaos. Just like this one.

      “Dr. Protocol.”

      He winced. Nice to know his reputation for exacting adherence to procedure had preceded him.

      “Sorry. Sorry. That was meant to be my inside voice.” She teased her shoulders into performing an impish shrug of apology to match her rueful I really messed that up face.

      Alex gritted his teeth.

      She quirked an eyebrow at him.

      I’m waiting, it said. And a whole lot more.

      Everything about Maggie Green spoke to that perfect triple of determination, energy, and willingness to take risks. That sort of optimism wasn’t something you learned. It was something a person embodied. And Maggie positively glowed with it. A stark contrast to the cloud he was pretty sure shadowed him on most days.

      In other words, if he was the phoenix burned to ashes, she was all flame.

      Exactly the type of person they needed working with patients teetering on the ledge between despair and recovery.

      Annoyingly.

      The idea of three months working with Maggie Green was settling in about as easily as he’d taken to the mandatory grief counseling after Amy had been killed. Very. Poorly.

      Maggie looked at him for a minute, arms crossed, jaw twitching with expectation. “C’mon, Dr. Kirkland. Come say hi.”

      She turned without waiting for a response, those long legs of hers taking the few yards between him and the ambulance in a handful of strides. She turned around and crooked her arm, a smile teasing at the corners of СКАЧАТЬ