Page 13 of Forbidden Romeo

“Sure?” she replies, already taking steps toward the door.

“I’ll page you if I need you.”

“Thanks, Dr. Maguire.”

I turn back to my stitching to see the man looking at me curiously again.

Has this man never seen a doctor with tits? Annoyed, I sit back, remove my mask and grab the glass of water Aisha left on the side for me (may she ever be known as St. Aisha).

When I glance back, the man is still staring.

“Must have been one hell of a shoot-out,” I say conversationally, hoping that discussing his battle scars will distract him enough to look away. I’m practically sweating under the intensity of his gaze.

“Maguire…” he says quietly. “Is that a family name?”

Shit. I try to keep my composure.

“My husband’s,” I lie smoothly, thanking the gods of hygiene that I’m wearing gloves so he can’t check for a ring.

There are only two groups of people in New York that might be interested in my surname. If I were to be discovered, I don’t know which group would be worse for me. Or Roisin.

“What happened today?” I try again.

The man huffs out a laugh. “Nothing I’d want to worry your pretty little head about.”

“So, you knew your assailants?” I deduce. I don’t really want to know the answer, but any insight into what Roisin and I can avoid could be invaluable.

“Aye,” the man replies, and I flinch. Irish. It’s been a while since I’ve heard anyone use that mannerism. “You worried I’m some kind of murderer?”

I clear my throat and go back to work. Quickly. “Even if you were, it wouldn’t change how I treated you.”

“Noble,” he comments. “I’ve not met many noble Maguires.”

My needle works even faster.

There’s no way, out of all the people in New York, that I ended up treating a goddamnDuffy.I dig in a little harder than I need to, and the man winces.

And then his face splits into a wide, cruel smile. “Met a few ginger Maguires though. Daresay that hair of yours is infamous around these parts.”

I stand abruptly, cutting the suture as I do. “Someone else will be in in a moment to complete the dressing. I’m needed elsewhere.”

The man simply laughs as I make my escape.

My hands are shaking as I walk down the corridor, and I fumble for my pager.

How could I be so stupid? I just completely blew my cover. I can’t believe I listened to Roisin and didn’t get my name changed—it doesn’t take a genius to add up that Maguire, plus red hair, equals mobster.

If the families weren’t looking for us before, they definitely would be now.

I need to move. Fast. Before that guy is discharged and the wolves descend.

Thankfully, I spy Aisha just as I finish typing in her number. She approaches quickly, looking more than a little worried, “Are you okay? You’re white as a ghost.”

“I need you to do me a favor,” I say quietly. “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“What?”

I glance over my shoulder, back toward the room I was just in. “That guy in there? He needs dressing; I’ve got to speak to Lous.”

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