Page 13 of Doctor Charmer

She scoffs. “You’ve never seen anyone like me.”

“Is that an invitation?” I adjust my feet hip width apart and relish in the undeniable magnetism that exists between us. I could stay like this all day.

“In your dreams—oh wait, you’ve just woken up. I bet you might think you are still in a dream fugue state. Should I slap you out of it?” She reaches for the chair handles and pushes up.

“Oh my god, please pull the plug on me. Now.” Both our heads turn to a suddenly awake Griffin.

“You’re awake,” Ivy says, hopping to her feet, her hands on the bed rail. Her focus snaps to him. “How are you?”

“I’d be better if I didn’t hear what I just heard.” He attempts to push up and immediately grabs his abdomen.

“Don’t sit up.” I reach for the chart at the foot of the bed and direct him to lie back on his back. “Let me see how you did overnight.” I scan the chart, and it confirms the initial diagnosis. Internal bruising that will need to be monitored for the next few days. I press the nurse’s button. “Good news. Looks like I’ll have Prince Charming moved to a proper room soon.”

“When can I leave?” Griffin asks.

“Let’s get you settled upstairs and run a few more tests, and then we’ll be able to give you a proper timeline.” I deflect his question. His injury, though appearing not life-threatening, could turn in an instant. He’ll need to be carefully monitored for the next forty-eight hours. But I don’t tell him this. To a twenty-something-year-old, forty-eight hours feels like a prison sentence.

I twist to Ivy. “The nurses will be awhile. Just so you know, we don’t allow overnight guests or chairs in my ER rooms.”

She bats her eyes at me, another smart remark cueing up. She waves her arms at Griffin and mocks me. “The king has spoken.MyER.” She reaches for the back of the chair, dragging it across the floor. “Your kingdom, your rules.”

I reach for the chair, grabbing it by the armrest. She concedes, releasing it. “I got it.” I turn to exit, and she steps around me to slide open the curtain. I catch her eyes narrowing for the briefest moment before she steps back into the exam room. I see how protective she is of Griffin, and I get it. She’s not the first caregiver I’ve had to chase from an ER room.

But there is a difference between an ER room and a patient room. ER rooms are tiny. Its patients can take a turn for the worse in a heartbeat. If that occurs, the staff needs to be able to get to the equipment, take up the proper position, and treat the patient as fast as possible. Every second can make a difference.

“I’ll see you up in your new room in a bit.” She pats Griffin on his covered foot and bends to scoop my briefcase off the floor. She carries it out of the room. I follow, expecting her to question me about the chair, but she doesn’t. “You came to check in on me and Griffin before you even settled in for the day. Thank you.”

I place the chair back at the nurses’ station and turn. Ivy is standing right next to me, my briefcase dangling in front of her. “How did you know that?”

She tips forward, and for the briefest of moments, I think she might kiss me. “No coffee on your breath, the briefcase, no lab coat. You walked in this morning and made a beeline right to me. That must’ve been a powerful dream you had last night,” she teases. Always teases. And she’s damn good at it.

“I’ll never tell.” Two can play that game.

“Only a matter of time, Reggie. You already feel it.” Her gaze flits down to my lips. “You want to spill right now. It’s taking everything in you not to. I like a man who thinks he possesses self-control. They never do.”

“So, this is a game you play often? Is that how you pass the time?” I put into words the thoughts from yesterday. The ones that returned the minute she leaned forward, and I thought she might kiss me.

She scoffs. “Have you ever asked yourself that question when you whip out your charm on unsuspecting victims?”

We remain standing in the one place I shouldn’t. Not like this. Not toe to toe, staring into the eyes of a woman who has my pulse racing. The nurses’ station is in the center of the floor, the most heavily trafficked area on the floor. The center of information and gossip. It’s early, but I pick up the movement of at least three staff members in my periphery.

These are all things I should be concerned with. Yet, not one of them gets me to move. “No one I deal with is a victim nor unsuspecting. I think they know what they are getting if they deal with me.”

“Do they?” she challenges.

She refuses to back down, and neither do I. I tilt my head forward and wait to see if she moves. Our noses practically touch before she leans back ever so slightly. We’re still less than an inch away, yet it feels like a victory. “They get to feel like the center of the universe for a moment or two.” We sway like trees in the wind, me leaning toward her, her mirroring my movementin reverse. Then she leans toward me, and I do the same. We are synchronized. “They get to feel their pulse racing, an attraction they hadn’t experienced in far too long. To forget whatever might have been troubling earlier.” I let my dangling right-hand brush against the back of hers.

Her lips part, and the soft exhale escaping lets me know I’ve struck gold.

“I get to live rent-free in their head. Images of me consuming their waking thoughts, and they make up reasons to be near me.”

She nods, finally relenting. “Like…” She dangles the word in the air like a reward. I wait for the prize I’ve earned. “Like rushing in early for work under the guise of checking on a patient.”

Wait, what?

“I get it now. Thanks for mansplaining to me what it feels like to be on the other end of… me.” That sexy smirk returns to her face, and I realize I’ve been outmaneuvered. Again.

“HR likes to roam this floor. Take it to the lounge. At least there’s mistletoe to explain why you two are about to kiss,” Nurse Reynolds says over her shoulder, tapping away on an iPad.

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