Calloused hands skimmed my skin. Years of working on sites in arid climates were probably the cause of the roughness of his fingers. He might have been a jerk, but his hands were proof that he didn’t shy away from manual labor.

I watched his brows furrow as he pressed his fingers around my foot, his touch surprisingly gentle for a man so focused on the task at hand. His hand moved higher along my shin, causing an involuntary outbreak of goosebumps along my leg.

“Does this hurt?” Dr. Campbell applied slight pressure.

I shook my head.

He worked around the area, pressing on various points and asking me if I felt any discomfort. Nothing hurt unbearably but my toes curled from the massaging sensation. To be honest, it felt good. My legs had been sore from walking around in unsupportive ballet flats, and my shins felt achy. I wouldn’t have been surprised if I had developed shin splints in addition to whatever had happened to my ankle.

Before I could help it, a quiet moan escaped my lips. My eyes went wide—and Dr. Campbell’s hands hesitated for just a moment.Shit!He’d noticed it. And that meant that everyone around me had noticed, too.

Someone knock me out with a trowel so I can preserve at least a modicum of dignity, please!

“Owww!” I howled. Suddenly, his examination didn’t feel as enjoyable. Sharp pain radiated above my foot where his finger touched.

He nodded to himself. “I think it might just be a sprain. Nothing seems to be broken.”

Thank God for that, but the pain still wouldn’t dissipate after he had pressed on the exact location of the injury.

I wiped away a trail of sweat from dripping down my forehead. Lying still in the hot sun somehow felt more intolerable than moving around. The rays scorched my skin, making me feel like I had a fever. Or maybe it was from all the unwanted attention I was receiving.

Dr. Campbell’s deep blue eyes focused on my slick forehead. Without another word, he leaned in and with smooth force, he lifted me into his arms.

Oh, God.What was he doing?!Please, no.

The crowd parted for him.

“No, please. You don’t have to carry me.” I slipped my good foot to the floor and balanced on it, while attempting to rest the sprained one on the ground. I winced on contact and stumbled forward into him. The pain was excruciating, but there was no way in hell I was letting him carry me like a baby.

“Stubborn,” was all he grunted out before sweeping me back up into his arms and stalking to the tent, not giving me much of a say in the matter. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw an amused Angela with brows nearly flying off her forehead. The bitch was loving my torment.

I tried hard to focus on anything but my mentor’s hand just under my ass. His intention wasn’t inappropriate, but since I was too well endowed with the gift of ass, his touch was dangerously close to being obscene.

My height was average, but Dr. Campbell carried me with ease, like I weighed as much as a feather. My body swayed rhythmically in his arms with every step he took.

He was silent as he walked with me, and I couldn’t decide if this made the situation more or less awkward. So, I followed his lead and kept my mouth shut.When in Rome...or in the arms of a man who looked like a Roman god...

Gently, perhaps more so than I would have expected from a hard-ass like him, Dr. Campbell placed me onto the ground. I felt instant relief from the sun under the big white top.

I watched him pull out a red sack from the utility carrier.A first-aid kit.Using his free hand, he grabbed at a stainless steel water bottle and shoved it at me.

“Thanks.” I drank from it greedily, liquid cooling my parched throat. The level of thirst one developed out here was unreal. It felt like no amount of water could ever fully hydrate you.

My love affair with the water bottle ended as soon as I felt warm hands take hold of my bare foot again. Startled, I jumped from the contact.

“Is the pain worsening?” he asked, propping the heel of my foot on his thigh as he sat cross-legged in front of me. His fingers moved to my arch to position it properly, resulting in an indescribable twist inside of my core.

I tried to play down my reaction. “No, no. Just on edge from the fall, I guess.”

He nodded. “Must be the adrenaline from the injury.”

Sure.The brooding professor touching my foot had nothing to do with it. I liked his explanation way better.

His hands unrolled the fat wad of nude elastic bandage as his eyes focused on mine. “You need better shoes.”

I sighed. “I know, but the airline hasn’t found my bag yet.” I had been on the phone with them every free moment I had back at the hostel, but from the tone of the representative I had last spoken to, it seemed like I was chasing a lost cause.

“Then go buy new ones.” His answer was blunt.