After the Christmas Party(66)

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t want you to be sorry,” he surprised her by saying. “What I want is to see you smile.”

She bared her teeth in a semblance of a smile because, really, he deserved a smile. He was unlike any man she’d ever known and that made her want to know more…and terrified her, too.

“Not exactly what I had in mind, but it’s a start.” He smiled so warmly at her that the nausea within her actually eased. “Now, the most pressing question is whether you have any food in this joint so I can cook us something or would you like to go out for breakfast? I’m starved.”

In reality they did neither. Not long after she’d draped the comforter around her shoulders and rushed into her bathroom to clean up her mess of a face, he tapped on the door.

She cracked the door open to peer at him. He was fully dressed in his clothes from the night before.

“I’ve got to head to the hospital. I’m on call today, and they’ve had several chest pains come into the emergency room. Apparently the cath lab is a madhouse. Dr. Stanley is going to be tied up there for some time and there are two more chest pains on their way by ambulance.”

Trying not to look too disappointed that whatever their morning had been going to bring had been interrupted, she nodded. “I understand.”

Apparently she didn’t do such a good job at hiding her doubts.

He tilted her chin toward him so he could fully see her face. “For whatever it’s worth, I don’t want to go.”

His fingers on her face were so warm, so tender that she sucked in her breath. “What is it you want?”

“To spend the day with you. Maybe help you drag out your Christmas decorations because your apartment is sadly lacking in Christmas spirit. Or, for that matter, we could decorate my tree. It’s been delivered, but I haven’t had a chance to trim and decorate it.”

He had a live Christmas tree? Who did that in these days of commercialized Christmas? Not that she’d be doing either of his suggestions. She’d had her fill of Christmas spirit the night before and preferred to stick her head in the ground until the season passed. Just look what happened when she tried to get into the spirit of things. She’d ended up drunk and waking in bed with a man she barely knew. No, thank you.

“Honestly, what we did wouldn’t matter so much just as long as I got to spend some time with you.”

From somewhere in her bedroom her cellphone started buzzing.

“If that’s who I think it is, you’ll probably get your wish. I’m on call today, too, and if you’ve been called in, I’m likely to be as well,” she mused, pulling her robe tight around her while she dashed toward where her phone had ended up the night before.

“The hospital?” he asked the moment she disconnected the call.

She nodded.

“Maybe the chest pains will end up gastro related rather than cardiac and we won’t have to stay long. We could grab lunch,” he suggested.

“Maybe,” she replied, dropping the phone back into the small black evening bag she’d carried the night before.

“Trinity?”

She glanced towards him.

“I like you.”

She wasn’t sure what to say.

“I’d like to see you again.”

Was he a glutton for punishment or what?

“Despite whatever impression I gave you last night, I’m really quite boring,” she said, wondering if she should also warn him about how much baggage she carried. The airport’s claim area had nothing on her.

“I don’t believe you.”

“You should,” she warned. “I’ve known me a lot longer than you have.”

He laughed then glanced at his watch. “I could never be bored around you, funny girl. Unfortunately, I have to get moving and your car is still at the hotel where the Christmas party was held. You’ll have to ride with me to the hospital so get hopping. We have lives to save.”

“Sure thing, snowflake.”





CHAPTER FOUR



ALTHOUGH RILEY HADN’T been on the schedule, he still spent most of the day at the hospital.

Fortunately, so did Trinity.

He’d been able to easily maneuver her into the cardiac lab with him. Right or wrong, he wanted her near him. The panic he’d seen in her eyes that morning worried him. Plus, she was going to need a ride to pick up her car at the end of her shift. He was way too smart to miss out on the opportunity to play white knight and give her a lift.

Doug Ryker, a fifty-three-year-old, had woken up with chest pain that had increased as the sun had come up. When he’d started clutching his chest, his wife had called 911. An ambulance had brought him to the emergency room. His cardiac enzymes had been elevated and, at the minimum, he’d needed an arteriogram.