Page 19 of Darla's Christmas Knight
“Hey, Darla,” Mindy greeted.
Darla pushed her thoughts aside and forced a smile. “Morning! What’s the day like?”
Saturdays could go either way. She hoped for a full day. It would take her mind off things. Keep her from wallowing over the muddle of her own making.
“Not so bad.”
Darla reached for the tablet and made her way to her office. Even the newDarla J. Miller, CNM, lettering on her door did not lift her spirits. When she had accepted Lee’s partnership offer, the woman had not lost time opening a second clinic in a neighboring town, and as of a month ago, Darla ran the Bulwark practice with the help of Mindy and the three nurses who split their time between the two clinics, depending on the workload.
She walked over to her desk and placed the tablet down on one side. And stared in confusion at the gift bag placed in the center of her desk. It was a shimmering blue color with matching tissue paper.
It wasn’t her birthday. Not for many months.
She lifted the bag. It was light. A brown envelope rested among the tissue paper with her name sprawled across the center in black ink. She opened it and extracted a square card with an illustration of a cardinal and holly berries set on a blue background, and a red number one on the top left corner.
Darla flipped it over.
Thought of you when I saw this. Dream of me when you wear it.
B
B?
Her heart stuttered.
Bobby!
It struck her that she’d never seen his handwriting. And the absurdity that she didn’t know her baby daddy’shandwritingforced a shaky laugh from her. She traced her finger over the black script. Never in a million years would she have guessed that the artistic cursive came from Bobby’s work roughened hand.
But think of the magic those hands created. Think of when his palms stroked over your skin, caressing your body, seeking,findingsensitive areas. And his fingers, his clever, clever fingers as they teased and tweaked and pinched and rubbed, making you burn with desire.
Her breasts grew heavy, her nipples hardened, and she clenched her thighs together. A small moan escaped.
Stop.You are in your office. Your place of work, for goodness’ sake.
Darla forcefully pulled herself back in her present. But her fingers trembled as they grasped the ends of the tissue paper, tugging it from the bag. She laid the fragile package down and pulled the soft wrapping open.
“Oh,” she gasped, staring at the exposed contents in shocked delight.
Much like she had traced over his beautiful words, she ran her fingers over the silk material in awe. And when she lifted the scarf, revealing the vibrant blues and pinks of the large hydrangea flowers, tears filled her eyes.
Bobby had been thinking of her while away on vacation.
And he wanted her to dream of him when she wore it at night.
She pressed the silk to her face, breathing deeply, hoping for a whiff of the citrus-infused earthy smell she associated with Bobby. “Silly girl,” she mocked, carefully folding the material.
Unless it was from an airport gift shop, a last-minute purchase before he boarded his flight. After all, the hydrangeawas the national flower of Andraste.
Remember, he’s not to be trusted. Bobby Bell turned his back on you once before and can do it again.
She folded the scarf and placed it back on top of the tissue paper and wrapped it with sharp, choppy moves.
Her movements stilled.
Dream of me when you wear it.
“Your boyfriend was waiting outside when I arrived,” a woman spoke from the doorway. “I hope it’s okay if I let him in? He was so eager to surprise you.”
