One Night...with Her Boss Read online

Rory smiled and made a move as if to sit up.

  “Oh, no, you don’t!” Aidan removed his knee from the player’s shoulder and quickly pressed down on it with one of his hands.

  “Stay down, Ror— Ali’s got you covered on this one.”

  Ali looked up, sensing Aidan’s eyes upon her. She caught her breath as their eyes met. Felt her teeth bite into her lower lip. He hadn’t deemed her capable of taking a phone call half an hour ago, but now he was happy to let her take the proverbial driver’s seat and bring Rory into surgery. Would wonders never cease?

  “Do you know who’s on the surgical staff at Tealside?”

  “Why? You’re not up to it?”

  Ali thinned her eyes, to assess if he was taunting her. His look was open, curious. It was not an attempt to catch her out. It was just a question.

  Releasing Rory’s shoulder, she gave herself a mental shake. She was going to have to stop being so distrustful. Keeping Aidan at arm’s length was only going to be tough if she made it that way. She took a deep breath and decided to go with trust. It was the only way this “relationship” was going to work.

  “I just thought we’d better see who was on at the hospital to make sure I don’t push any noses out of joint. If they’ve got a shoulder specialist they’d be better placed to do the op. But I’m happy to do it if no one else is available.”

  “I’m not sure, but the paramedics can find out en route. They should be here any minute.”

  Aidan was impressed that Ali knew where to start and stop with her levels of treatment. It was clear her patient’s health was paramount. Other surgeons liked the glory. Who wouldn’t want to add award-winning North Stars player Rory Stiles to their tick-list of surgeries? Particularly when his place on the team could mean a win or lose in the final.

  A thick lock of shimmering black hair had come loose from her ponytail and now hung across her right eye. He had to fight the distinctly unprofessional urge to reach up and brush it behind her ear. Just slip it back into place before running his finger along her jawline. Just like every colleague did for another. Not!

  “Well, I’d prefer it if you do the surgery.” His voice was huskier than he’d hoped, but he continued anyway. “It’ll be better in the long run as you’ll know exactly what to do for follow-up. Let’s get him stabilized at the hospital and hope you can put the plate in tomorrow.”

  “We should probably see what the preliminary X-rays show. The last thing Rory needs is inflammation pressuring the carotid.”

  “Absolutely—let’s check everything. But regardless of who’s on staff at Tealside, I think you’re the best man—woman—for the job.”

  “You’re positive you’d be happy for me to run with this?”

  “He’s sure!” Rory croaked up at them, cracking a crooked smile. “And would you two stop flirting over me? It reminds me of the night I’m not going to be having with Amber.”

  Aidan resisted an urge to punch Rory in the arm. They hadn’t been flirting. They’d been speaking professionally. Cordially. Respectfully. Like workmates.

  He chanced a glance at Ali, whose cheeks had flushed crimson and who was busily chewing on her exquisite apple-red lips. She didn’t look happy.

  Fine. Hands up! He’d been flirting.

  In a professional manner.

  It was about as close to flirting as he got, and Rory—the team’s king of leaving broken hearts in his wake—ought to know.

  It seemed everyone in the room was holding their breath. Could the tension in the room get any higher?

  Aidan felt a sigh of relief escape his lips as Amber ran into the room, lugging a pillowcase filled nearly to the brim with ice cubes.

  “I found an ice machine in the games room. Is this enough?”

  * * *

  If ever there was a time to be grateful to ride in the back of an ambulance it was now. Ali kept her hand on Rory’s shoulder as a paramedic took his obs and gave him a couple of milligrams of painkiller. She’d asked him not to dose him up to the hilt before they knew what procedures they would need to carry out tonight.

  An unfortunate side effect of feeling better was that Rory had got chatty. Real chatty.

  “Yeah, he’s definitely into you, Harty.”

  “Who?” She could play dumb for a bit, right?

  “Tate! I’ve never seen him so weird. Man, earlier on the field I thought he was going to have a fit!”

  Ali stiffened. “Because a woman was treating you?”

  “No, Doc. You got it all wrong.” Rory waved for her to come closer, even though he didn’t lower the decibel level of his voice an iota. “He fancies you.”

  “Don’t be daft!” She swatted at him, feeling not a little mortified that the paramedic was quite merrily enjoying their conversation.

  “You know,” Rory continued, clearly enjoying the topic, “you could always take on The Monk as a special project...”

  “The Monk? And that is...” She chanced a glance over at the paramedic, who was feigning deafness. It must make the earwigging easier.

  “Dr. Taaaaaaaate...” Rory drawled, the meds taking him swinging toward Sleepyville.

  The Monk, huh? Interesting... She had pegged Aidan for one of those “girl at every away game” types. With looks like his and that bobby-dazzler of a smile... Hmm... Maybe being judgmental didn’t suit her either.

  “We’ve been trying to set him up for aaaaages. Never takes, though.”

  “Never takes what?”

  Rory’s lids began a losing war to stay open.

  For heaven’s sake. Don’t fall asleep on me now!

  Ali pressed her hands to the bench of the ambulance to steady herself as it slowed and turned into what must be the hospital forecourt.

  Her mind flicked back into work mode. Exactly where it should have been for the ten-minute ride. She’d need to get X-rays, make some quick decisions about how quickly Rory did or didn’t need surgery, and then try to grab some sleep if she was going to be in theater in a few hours’ time.

  The ambulance pulled to a stop and the back doors virtually burst open to reveal none other than a grinning Aidan Tate.

  “Hey, look! It’s Beauty and the Beast!”

  Ali’s jaw dropped open, then clapped shut as Rory gave her a heavy-lidded I told you so wink.

  * * *

  Aidan gave Ali a sidelong glance. The X-rays were looking the opposite of good. She’d been right all along. A preventative op would have prevented the fracture compound and the carotid arterial pinch. It might easily have been fatal. In practice, he preferred to steer clear of surgery unless it was necessary, but in this case he should’ve known Rory would push the boundaries. This year’s final meant the world to the team.

  Ali’s profile was giving nothing away. Nor was she. She had been tight-lipped since their arrival at the hospital.

  “Fancy a coffee?”

  “I think some sleep might be in order.” Ali continued to frown at the X-rays, then asked, “What time did you say the theater is booked?

  “Six a.m.”

  They both glanced at the clock hanging above the X-ray light board. Just gone midnight.

  “Right. I’d better head home. Is there a taxi rank anywhere?”

  She looked around the room as if it might offer her an answer. Anywhere but at him. What had he done now?

  “Oh, didn’t I say?”

  Ali looked at him blankly.

  “I took the liberty of organizing one of the on-call surgeons’ rooms for you here. Unless the idea of a resident’s room makes you run for the hills?”

  “No, that sounds fine.” Her expression was inscrutable. “I’m not fussy. So long as they’ve got a toothbrush and some scrubs I could borrow.”

  “Great. I’ve already popped some things in there
for us.”

  “Us?” Her tone spoke volumes. The not-a-chance-in-hell variety.

  “Yes. Us. I was hoping to watch the master at work.” He crossed his heart and gave her a silly grin. “I’m not being a control freak, if that’s what you’re worried about—honest!”

  She quirked an eyebrow, unconvinced. He had to admit the idea of spending a night in such close proximity to Ali had set off blaring sirens, warning that staying in the Pal Zone would be tough. He mentally crossed his fingers.

  “I’ll be on my best behavior. Scout’s Honor.”

  “Well...” She eyed him suspiciously, arms firmly crossed. “How high did you get in the Scouts?”

  “Explorer.” Actually, he’d been a nerd, and had stayed on as part of the Scout Network for a long time, but she didn’t need to know that.

  “That’s it? My cousin made it to Scout Network, and he was a city boy. No deal.”

  “Fine—you got me. I stayed on until I started med school. Three years of Scout Network. You can trust me.” He made the Scout’s Honor sign again for good measure.

  “Dr. Tate?” Ali’s lips began to shift into a grin. “Were you trying to look cool by saying you stopped at Explorer?”

  “Maybe.” He returned the grin, then pointed toward the wall clock. “T-minus six hours, Doctor. It’s time to start counting sheep.”

  Aidan swung his arm in a dramatic This way, madam, gesture and felt his lips thin as she passed him. Staying in his own bunk when all the others had been filled with scouts was easy. Doing the same with Ali not a meter above him...?

  Maybe the visitor’s chair in Rory’s room would be a better choice.

  * * *

  “And we’re ready to close.”

  Ali stepped back from the surgical table, grateful that it had been a straightforward op. The plate and screw fixation were in, and would hopefully allow for early mobilization. If Rory had listened to them he would’ve been looking at four to six weeks’ recovery for the fracture—now he was looking at closer to three months, but with a better guarantee of proper bone union.

  The big North v South match was barely beyond the three-month marker. When he was up for it she was going to give him one meaty lecture. As the surgical team moved in to close she glanced over at the observation room, where Aidan was giving her a quick thumbs-up and a grin.

  Despite her best intentions to totally block him out, she felt like warm sunbeams were shooting out from her chest. Good grief! Since when did she need a thumbs-up approval rating on a simple plate-and-screw surgery?

  “Do you think Dr. Tate’s going to wait for Rory in Recovery?” a nurse asked quietly.

  “You’ll have to ask him yourself. I’m not his keeper.”

  Ali hoped her words hadn’t sounded as sharp as they had in her head. Keeping tabs on Aidan was most definitely not on her “to-do” list. Especially now, after she’d gone into the bunkroom he’d booked for them and then he had never shown up. Not that sleeping would’ve come easily if he had been in the same room. But even so she had felt the loss of not being with him.

  Getting up for surgery had been the only way to clear herself of the growing realization that Aidan Tate was making an impact on her. A big one.

  Surgery was the one zone where she was able to shut everything else out—thank God. But one thumbs-up and a rakish smile later here she was, back in the land of reminding her knees that the rest of her body would like to remain upright.

  “Sorry,” the nurse continued. “It’s just that he’s never stayed with a patient overnight before, so I assumed...”

  The poor woman’s voice petered out as Ali’s eyes widened. Then the nurse carried on, as if Ali had told her talking about Aidan was her absolute favorite thing in the whole wide world. Maybe it was. Was it...?

  “For a little while we all thought he was going to stay in the surgeon’s bunk with you!”

  “Oh?” Ali replied non-committally.

  “Don’t worry!” The nurse laughed. “We’ve all tried to break the impenetrable veneer of ‘The Monk.’ No one’s managed. Keeps himself to himself. But he’s about as dishy as they come, don’t you think?”

  Ali kept her eyes on the vacant spot in the observation room where he had been. Yes. Yes, she did think. Not that she was going to tell the nurse. “I hadn’t really noticed. He’s all yours!”

  Ali left the theater quickly, heading back to the locker room where she’d hung her clothes. She needed to change, check on Rory in Recovery and then get back to Aidan. No! That wasn’t right. Get back to work. Work. Where she was learning new things. From Aidan. Like finding out that she could reach a ridiculously divine orgasm when he did those soft kisses and silky-smooth caresses all along her—

  “Lockhart?”

  Speak of the devil.

  “Coming!” Ali tugged her jumper down, grabbed her bag and careened out the door, narrowly avoiding colliding into one very familiar chest.

  Aidan steadied her, his brown eyes seeking an explanation for her frenetic behavior. She shrugged herself out of his hold and headed for Recovery. Minimal contact meant minimal heat detonations in her erogenous zones, right?

  “Lockhart...?”

  She stopped and gave Aidan a pointed look. He was interrupting her No Touching pep talk to herself.

  “You all right?” He leaned against the doorframe in that really annoying I’m-a-deeply-sexy-supermodel way. “Want to come to the gym with me later? You look like you’ve got some energy to burn.”

  A flash of white teeth and a wink followed the statement.

  * * *

  Ali looked Aiden straight in the eye and blew a steadying breath between her lips. Gym buddy or not—he was asking for it. Her fingers were curled into tight fists and she could feel adrenaline begin to charge her. Four weeks into her time Up North and she’d managed to avoid this sort of confrontation with Aidan, but here they were, face-to-face, and she was on the attack.

  You can do this. Piece of cake. She wriggled her fingers into new fists and did a couple of quick hops back and forth. You will do this. She would be ready to go in just...three, two, one—and in an explosive shift of her weight she began to kick as if her life depended on it.

  “Is that it?” Aidan grinned back at her, completely unfazed by her power moves. “That’s all you’re good for? C’mon. You’re worse than last week. Give it to me, Harty. Harder.”

  He wanted hard? She could do hard. Ali shifted her weight again and gave the punching bag all she had.

  Aidan barely blinked. “C’mon, Lockhart! You call those stitches on Mack’s forehead today butterfly? Dr. Frankenstein could have done a better job!”

  “Oh, you want to play dirty, do you?” Bam! She gave the punching bag a satisfying whack.

  “A double specialty in physio and orthopedic surgery? Peanuts. A chimpanzee could’ve topped that.”

  Bash!

  “And I had to rewrap Jonesey’s wrist today—twice!”

  Biff! That was a lie and he knew it. This was getting to be fun!

  “You kiss like a girl.”

  What?

  She hadn’t really heard him above the blare of the music. Was he dissing her kissing? Ali went still, leveled her gaze at him and shook her head slowly.

  Now that was low. They’d both been very diligent about avoiding any mention of “That Night...” But if that was how he wanted to play it—

  “I kiss like a woman.” The depth of her assertion surprised even herself. She watched Aidan’s eyes widen as hers narrowed. She twisted her body into an almighty whirling dervish spin and kicked the bag with all her might. “Don’t mock my kissing!”

  Ali was flat on her back before she could say boo. The rest of the kickboxing class fell silent, the air thick with the thump-pump of dance tracks blaring out from the spe
akers.

  Had she said kissing? Aidan dropped to Ali’s side, horrified. Her footing must have gone wrong in the kick and she’d ended up flat on her back. Everything slipped into a horror-film-style slow motion. This was his fault. He had pushed her. Just like he’d pushed his girlfriend to go snorkeling all those years ago. Try new things! Reach for new limits! What the hell was wrong with him?

  Someone turned off the music and flicked on the overhead lights. Ali was out cold.

  This isn’t happening...this isn’t happening!

  His mouth went dry as he tried to gather his wits. No blood pooling at the back of her head. Good. He felt along her neck and the back of her head for any obvious injuries. Ali’s pure blue eyes remained firmly shut.

  He cupped her face in his hands, frantically repeating her name again and again, his thumb caressing her forehead, her cheek. He’d totally been lying when he’d told her she meant nothing to him. He’d come to rely on her these past few weeks. More than that. He couldn’t get enough of her. Every minute of every day he wanted to be with Ali and find out more. More about what made her tick. More about what she liked...didn’t like.

  All of his medical skills seemed to abandon him. He was a doctor, for God’s sake. Shouldn’t he be checking her eyes? Her obs? Doing something medical?

  This sort of injury happened in team practice and in games often enough—a person being knocked to the ground so hard the brain’s electrical patterns were disrupted—and they always treated head injuries with intense scrutiny. The ramifications of a bad blow were huge. There could be a rupture to the brain’s membrane or to the brain tissue, which could lead to arterial damage, which in turn could lead to brain damage or a fatal blood clot.

  She could die.

  Aidan lifted his eyes up to the ceiling as if it would give him some answers. What had he done? Critically injured the one person who was beginning to make him feel alive again?

  “Aidan?”

  Ali’s voice was a low croak, her eyes slowly working their way open, making an immediate connection with his own. There had never been a pair of eyes he was more happy to see.

  “Ali! Can you hear me? Don’t move your head.”