A Soldier's Return. RaeAnne Thayne

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СКАЧАТЬ a deep male voice asked.

      She was covered in sand, grabbing her wrist and whimpering like a baby seal that had lost its mama. Did she look okay?

      “I’m fine,” she lied. “Just a little spill.”

      She looked up—way, way up—and somehow wasn’t surprised to find the other runner she had spotted a few moments earlier.

      Her instincts were right. He was great-looking. She had an impression of dark hair and concerned blue eyes that looked familiar. He wore running shorts and a formfitting performance shirt that molded to powerfully defined muscles.

      She swallowed and managed to sit up. What kind of weird karma was this? She had just wished for a man in her life, and suddenly a gorgeous one seemed to pop up out of nowhere.

      Surely it had to be a coincidence.

      Anyway, she might like the idea of a man in her life, but she wasn’t at all prepared for the reality of it—especially not a dark-haired, blue-eyed runner who still somehow managed to smell delicious.

      He also had a little dog on a leash, a small black schnauzer who was sniffing Fiona like they were old friends.

      “Can I give you a hand?”

      “Um. Sure.”

      Still cradling her injured wrist, she reached out with her right hand, and he grasped it firmly and tugged her to her feet. For one odd moment, she could swear she smelled roses above the clean, crisp, masculine scent of him, but that made absolutely no sense.

      Was she hallucinating? Maybe she had bonked her head in that gloriously graceful free fall.

      “You hurt your wrist,” he observed. “Need me to take a look at it? I’m a doctor.”

      What were the odds that she would fall and injure herself in front of a gorgeous tourist who also happened to be a doctor?

      “Isn’t that convenient?” she muttered, wondering again at the weird little twist of fate.

      He gave her an odd look, half curious and half concerned. Again, she had the strange feeling that she knew him somehow, but she had such a lousy memory for faces and names.

      “Melissa. Melissa Blake?”

      She narrowed her gaze, more embarrassed at her own lousy memory than anything. He knew her so she obviously had met him before.

      “Yes. Actually, it’s Melissa Fielding now.”

      “Oh. Right. You married Cody Fielding, Cannon Beach’s celebrity.”

      And divorced him, she wanted to add. Don’t forget that part.

      “I’m sorry. You know me, but I’m afraid I don’t remember your name.”

      He shrugged. “No reason you should. I was a few years older and I’ve been gone a long time.”

      She looked closer. There was something about the shape of his mouth. She had seen it recently on someone else...

      “Eli?”

      “That’s right. Hi, Melissa.”

      She should have known! All the clues came together. The dog, whom she now recognized as Max, the smart little dog who belonged to Eli’s father. The fact that he said he was a doctor. Those startling, searching blue eyes that now seemed unforgettable.

      How embarrassing!

      In her defense, the last time she had seen Eli Sanderson, he had been eighteen and she had been fifteen. He had graduated from high school and was about to take off across the country to college. The Eli she remembered had been studious and serious. He had kept mostly to himself, more interested in leading the academic decathlon than coming to any sporting events or social functions.

      She had been the opposite, always down for a party, as long as it distracted her from the sadness at home in those first years after her father died of brain cancer.

      The Eli she remembered had been long and lanky, skinny even. This man, on the other hand, was anything but nerdy. He was buff, gorgeous, with lean, masculine features and the kind of shoulders that made a woman want to grab hold and not let go.

      Wow. The military had really filled him out.

      “I understand you work with my dad,” he said.

      She worked for his father. Melissa was a nurse at Dr. Wendell Sanderson’s family medicine clinic. Now she realized why that mouth looked so familiar. She should have picked up on it immediately. His dad’s mouth was shaped the same, but somehow that full bottom lip looked very different on Dr. Sanderson Jr.

      Her wrist still ached fiercely. “How’s your dad?” she asked, trying to divert her attention from it. “I stopped by to see him yesterday after his surgery and was going to call the hospital to check on him today as soon as I finished my run.”

      “He’s good. I was trying to be here before he went under the knife, but my plane was delayed until last night. I did speak to the orthopedic surgeon, who is happy with the outcome so far. Both knee replacements seem to have gone well.”

      “Oh, good. He won’t tolerate being down for long. I guess that’s why it made sense for him to do both at the same time.”

      “You know him well.”

      After several months of working for the kindly family medicine doctor, she had gained a solid insight into his personality. Wendell was sweet, patient, genuinely concerned about his patients. He was the best boss she’d ever had.

      “Let’s take a look at this wrist,” Eli said now. Unlike his father, Wendell’s son could never be described as kindly or avuncular.

      “I’m sure it’s fine.”

      “Again, I’m a doctor. Why don’t you let me be the judge of how fine it might be? I saw that nasty tumble and could hear the impact of your fall all the way across the sand. You might have broken something, in which case you’re going to want to have it looked at sooner rather than later.”

      She was strangely reluctant to hand over her wrist—or anything else—to the man and fought the urge to hide her hand behind her back, as if she were caught with a fistful of Oreos in front of an empty cookie jar.

      “I can have the radiologist at the clinic x-ray it when I go in to work in an hour.”

      “Or you can let me take a look at it right now.”

      She frowned at the implacable set of his jaw. He held his hand out and she sighed. “Ugh. You’re as stubborn as your father.”

      “Thank you. Anytime someone compares me to my father, I take it as a compliment.”

      He gave his outstretched hand a pointed look, and she frowned again and, cornered, held out her wrist. The movement made her hurt all over again, and she flushed at the unwilling tears she could feel gather.

      His skin was much warmer than she might have СКАЧАТЬ