The Surgeon's Christmas Wish. Annie O'Neil

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СКАЧАТЬ More importantly, even if Fraser did make Braveheart look like a wimpy nerd, she needed to make sure this encounter ended with her new employee understanding who ran things here. And it certainly wasn’t him. She began to unzip her ski jacket and put on her best charm-school voice.

      “Dr. MacKenzie, since you haven’t had a chance to settle in, I’ll take this patient.” Before he could protest, she slipped past him and opened the door, forcing herself to look up into those blue-as-a-lake eyes before she disappeared into the exam room.

      “Are you happy to show us what you’re made of later in the day?”

      “Perfectly.” Fraser flashed her a dazzling smile, put his hand up in a mock salute and clicked his heels together.

      Tara’s hand clenched the door handle, nerves jangling with—what, exactly? Embarrassment? Anger? Definitely embarrassment. Show us what you’re made of? Sweet heavens above. It was more than clear the man was made of one part gorgeous to one part devil-may-care. She might have to rejig the ratios a bit but …

      Unwilling to let him see her falter, Tara dropped her gaze to the floor. Despite herself, her ire disintegrated in an instant. Fraser’s socks had little cartoon snowmen dappled all over them. It was all she could do not to burst into giggles. Not that she was going to let him know he wasn’t the only one with a closet affection for the holidays.

       C’mon Tara. Be fair. Give the guy a chance to explain himself.

      To buy herself time, Tara allowed herself a cautious visual journey back up those long legs and well-muscled torso, landing straight on those perfectly blue eyes. It shocked her to realize she’d just ogled him. At close range. You’re a doctor, for heaven’s sake! Get a grip!

      “I’ll tell you what.” Tara did her best to let the words trip out lightly. “Let’s meet for coffee at the café next door in an hour and I’ll talk you through how the clinic works.” Unable to resist a bit of a barb, she turned to face her nurse, “Liesel, can you let Dr. MacKenzie know where the outdoor shop is, please? He might find it a bit chilly to work out the season in his snowmen socks.”

      Tara quickly entered the exam room before letting the full impact of Fraser MacKenzie’s tall, dark and ridiculously handsome looks sink in. Chestnut-brown hair with the perfect amount of salt and pepper at the temples. A pair of blue eyes that seemed backlit they were so bright. And the cheekbones. Knock-your-knees-out-from-under-you cheekbones. Her personal weakness.

      For heaven’s sake! She felt jittery enough after their high-speed run-in on the slopes. Having to absorb the fact she’d somehow hired the living, breathing image of her fantasy man—complete with a sexy Scottish accent—was too much.

      “Are you all right, Doctor?”

      A young woman stood up from the exam-room chair and reached out an arm to Tara as if to steady her.

      “That’s my line!” Tara tried to quip, hoping to retain the smallest modicum of professionalism. Patients first. Heart doing a wild jitterbug? Not an option. Not any more.

      “Now, who’s this?”

      “I’m Henry and this is my Mom.” The blond boy sitting on Tara’s exam table piped up. He seemed in good enough spirits despite the worried expression on his mother’s face and the large pack of frozen vegetables he held over his eye.

      “May I have a look?” She took the packet from him and placed it on the exam table.

      “Wow! That’s one heck of a panda eye you have there, young man.” Wincing with sympathy, she continued, “I’m glad to see your mother was smart enough to bring out the frozen peas!”

      “We told him to wait until we were up to put on his ski boots, but you just couldn’t hold on, could you, Henry?” Mrs. Carroll smiled lovingly at her boy, but Tara could see how concerned she was.

      He did have a small cut above his eye, but it wasn’t bleeding. What concerned Tara more was how gingerly he was holding his wrist.

      “Henry, it’s nice to meet you. I am Dr. Braxton.” She gave him the most relaxed smile she could muster despite the flock or herd or whatever it was of butterflies still careering round her stomach. Thanks a heap, Dr. MacKenzie.

      “Would you like to tell me what happened?”

      “Sure!” Henry smiled up at her after getting a reassuring nod from his mother. “Mom and Dad told me not to put on my boots until we went skiing. So this morning I knew we were going skiing and no one was up yet, but I was excited, so I brought my boots upstairs to try them on outside Mom and Dad’s room and they fit so I started to walk downstairs to get some juice because I was thirsty and …” Here he stopped and shot an anxious look at his mother.

      “Go on, you silly little thing.” His mother couldn’t help laughing at her son’s pell-mell style of story. “Tell the doctor what happened next.”

      “Well … it turns out it was harder to go down the stairs than I thought and I tripped and fell and bumped all the way to the bottom.” Henry gave Tara a triumphant grin.

      “Looks like you showed those stairs who was boss.” Tara smiled at his bravery.

      “If this isn’t proof my husband should’ve booked a cabin instead of the townhouse, I don’t know what is!” Mrs. Carroll was trying to keep her voice light, but a slight waver betrayed her anxiety.

      Tara smiled reassuringly. “Believe me, accidents can happen anywhere. I’m sure this was nothing you could have foreseen. Henry, do you mind if I take a look at your wrist?”

      The little boy automatically pulled his arm towards his stomach.

      “It’s okay, Henry. I know it must hurt.” Tara reached into a drawer behind her and pulled out a child’s instant cold compress. Giving the packet an experienced twist and shake, she handed it to the boy. “Why don’t you hold this on your wrist for a minute?” Once he had the pack resting on his arm, Tara continued, “I’d better do a check to make sure you didn’t conk your head too hard when you landed.” She bent her knees so she was level with his eye line. “Can you just follow my finger?”

      A few tests and a soft splint later, Tara felt satisfied that Henry had no permanent damage.

      “Looks like you have a resilient son here, Mrs. Carroll, but I’m afraid his wrist is sprained. I think we can safely rule out a break as he has a full range of movement despite the swelling. Forty-eight hours of rest, elevation and cold compresses should help ease the pain.”

      Tara couldn’t stop herself from ruffling Henry’s curly blond hair. She’d always imagined she’d have a little boy. A couple of them. Not that she was too bothered if they were boys or girls. Just healthy kids, part of a happy family. Ah, well. Dreams were just that. Fanciful flights of your imagination. No room for those any more.

      Clearing her throat, Tara wiggled a playful finger at Henry. “Be sure to listen to your mom, now. We’ll get you back out on those slopes lickety-split.” Henry grinned with relief.

      Turning, Tara addressed Henry’s mother, “Make sure you call me if he complains of any dizziness, nausea or starts to have any balance problems. Here’s a sheet listing concussion symptoms to look out for, but I’m pretty certain you’re in the clear.”

      “Thank СКАЧАТЬ