Page 9 of If The Fates Allow
The entire affair gave a little humor to the evening. A distraction sorely needed. So much of a distraction that she didn’t notice Noah’s approach until he was right next to her.
“Would you like me to fetch you some punch?”
Startled by his arrival, Willa greeted him with a polite smile. “I’m fine, thank you.”
“You don’t look fine. You look bored.” He matched her stance, wisely keeping two steps away with his own glass of punch in hand. “An angel watching over the debauchery below.”
Willa released an unladylike snort. “This is Haven House, Dr. Anderson. Debauchery is not tolerated here.”
“Yes, I know.” He smiled, quite literally sending her heart racing. “I’ve met your mother.”
Willa gripped the banister harder. The urge to get closer to him and lower herself to the next step had become quite alarming.
“May I call on you tomorrow?”
Her mouth fell open. In the entirety of her life, no man had ever requested to call on her. Partly because no men her age traveled as far as Haven House if they could help it, but mainly because she was just Willa. The plain, boring, sickly Fairweather girl who had nothing to offer.
And she knew he didn’t mean it the way a normal man would. She wasn’t a fool. She knew he meant to see her in a medical capacity, but as he watched her with a playful look in his eye, it was very difficult to remind her inner self of that fact.
At her silence, Noah continued to smile. Bigger, brighter, and beyond devastating. It was getting to the point where someone should truly say something to him about it. The man had no right to throw his charm around as he did.
“Why should you wish to call on me tomorrow?”
“To examine you?” His smile dimmed, and Willa said a little prayer of thanks. That infernal smile of his was a weapon. “I would like us to begin treatment as soon as possible, but I’ll need to gather information, and since I’m finally settled, I was hoping we could start tomorrow. Privately.”
The idea of being alone with him made her exceedingly nervous. She had already made a fool of herself once and didn't care to have a repeat performance so soon. “What kind of information?”
His gaze dipped, striking her mouth first before descending to sweep over her entire being. “The standard stuff. Height, heartbeat, and so on.” Taking another step on the stairs, his eyes slowly returned to hers. “You do have a heartbeat, don’t you, Ms. Fairweather?”
No, she most certainly did not. At least not in her chest. With him this close, her poor, weak heart had taken a dive straight into her stomach. Why bother with the exam? She was dead where she stood.
“Willa?”
And why did he always have to say her name like that? Husky and with a hint of familiarity. “Y-yes, I have a heartbeat.”
Concern spiked in his gaze, wiping the amusement once there. “Are you feeling well?”
She cleared her throat. How much more embarrassing could this encounter become? And she was honestly growing tired of repeating“I’m fine”to nearly all his questions.
“I’m fine, Dr. Anderson.”
“Are you lying to me, Ms. Fairweather?”
“Why would I lie to you?”
“Of that, I’m not sure.” He brazenly moved to stand with her, sharing all the available space. “But if I am to help, lying to me is not advisable.”
Impossible a feat as it seemed, Willa averted her gaze. His nearness was inappropriate and fraught with dangerous implications, should anyone notice.
“Dr. Anderson, please give me room to breathe.”
“Does having people close cause you to feel out of breath?”
“No, of course not.”
“Because if it did, the problem could be in your head,” he replied, backing up to lean on the wall behind him. “An aversion to crowds can cause shortness of breath.”
The party forgotten, Willa’s head snapped to the man smugly sipping from one of her mother’s good punch glasses. “I beg your pardon?”
