The Surgeon's Christmas Wish
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Annie O'Neil
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Chapter One
A FREE LIFT pass was definitely Tara’s favorite job perk.
Just for fun, she wove her skis in and out of the morning’s first tendrils of sunlight. A fresh snowfall gave an added whoosh to the fluid switchbacks she was cutting across the black diamond slope.
Sure, she was thirty-four years old, but it was all she could do not to tip back her head and scream, Yippppeeeee!
A year in Deer Creek had done wonders for her psyche, not to mention her emergency medical skills. She now ran her own ski injury clinic. Well, almost her own. Just a bit more scrimping and a few more paychecks to go... More importantly, she ran her own life. It was about time.
Tara felt a smile forming on her lips as she scanned the mountainside. Only the hardcore skiers were out this early. Early enough to see dawn’s blush spill over the Rockies. And with just enough time to get to Marian’s bakery before all of the specials were scooped up by seasonal visitors.
Hearing a couple of exhilarated whoops behind her, Tara pulled over to a small knoll on the edge of the slope. A pair of freewheeling snowboarders wearing Santa hats hurtled past, throwing a “Thanks for moving” in their wake. As they flashed down the steep terrain, she let the silent beauty of the mountain settle around her. Who needed a Christmas tree in their living room when there was an entire mountainside riddled with evergreens?
Me. That’s who. She smiled, knowing full well she was as much of a sucker for the traditional trappings of the upcoming holiday as anyone. Only five more weeks!
Even so, spending it on your own was—
Stop it, she silently cautioned herself. Spending Christmas on her own in Deer Creek was exactly what she wanted. She had everything she needed in the small mountain village. A good job, a local shop with everything from pretzels to antifreeze, a Wi-Fi connection to die for and a bakery that specialized in threatening to expand her waistline.
Besides, how many doctors saw a variation of the North Pole from their office every morning? The view from up here was insane. There was nothing claustrophobic about Deer Creek. No one stealing your research or trying to shoehorn you into a career path you never wanted. Just an honest, simple life. A life absolutely, perfectly on her own.
Tara scrutinized the scarcely populated slopes. Fingers crossed, there wouldn’t be too many injuries arriving at the clinic today. Not that she minded the work. Medicine was definitely her calling. It was just that every time the doors to the clinic opened, or her radio crackled to life, it meant someone else was having a very bad day.
She knelt to readjust the clips on her boots. Another five minutes or so to the clinic and—
“Heads!”
Tara flattened herself to the small knoll as a snowboarder whistled overhead. She felt her mouth go dry and her heart rate soar. Shivers shot across her shoulders and her scalp tingled in a combination of fear and adrenaline.
What a first-class idiot!
Just a few inches in the wrong direction and she would’ve been the one entering the clinic. Not only was the snowboarder thoughtless—he was plain dangerous.
Heart pounding, Tara bolted upright and sped after the tall figure in racing blue as he shot down the slope at lightning speed. The broad reach of his shoulders indicated he was definitely a grown man. A very athletic man from the looks of things. Long legs, trim hips, an assured strength behind his movements. There was no doubt he knew how to command the slope.
Her brow crinkled. This was hardly the time to be admiring someone’s build and athletic panache.
“Stop!” Tara knew her voice didn’t carry far on the slopes—but she didn’t care. Good looking or not, the snowboarder could have killed her. “Stop, you—you mountainside menace!”
Tara felt heat roil in her belly. How dare he endanger someone’s life?
The man seemed blissfully unaware of Tara’s increasingly irate attempts to get his attention. As she watched him disappear around the next bend, she felt her fury double. His type was exactly the reason Deer Creek needed doctors on constant duty.
It was just the sort of thoughtless behavior her ex would’ve—
Stop. Stop. Not going to go there. I am not going to go there. Something positive. Just think of something positive.
The new surgeon.
Thank goodness he was starting in a few days. Tara had been running the clinic on her own throughout the summer with the ad hoc help of the local search and rescue crew. Summer saw a steady trickle of hikers, river rafters and the occasional rock climber, but it was not as busy as the ski season. Not by a long shot.
Over the summer and fall, the relative solitude of the mountain retreat suited her. Neither did she mind the twenty-four-seven nature of the job, but having another colleague to throw ideas at was always useful when it came to sports-related injuries. Plus, with freshly opened slopes and the start of the Thanksgiving vacation, five patients a day had the potential to become twenty.
Dr. Fraser MacKenzie’s résumé had genuinely impressed her. He had done ski seasons all over the world, following a five-year stint as a British military surgeon in the Royal Marines. She wasn’t surprised to see that after seasons in France, Italy and New Zealand he’d wanted to add the American Rockies to his list.
Tara normally didn’t hire unknown seasonal staff, but the colleague she had been relying on from last year had called just two weeks earlier to say he was very sorry but he’d just accepted a tenured position at a hospital in Banff. She could hardly begrudge him such an enviable post. The chief of sports medicine in a prime resort hospital? He would’ve been a fool to turn it down.
Can I trust this one to last the whole season?
She’d seen other resort clinics suffer from multiple cases of doctors jumping ship early. The call of higher mountains, steeper slopes, a fresh start in a new hemisphere.
Tara frowned discerningly as she took in the majesty of the mountains around her. The Rockies were enough for her. Heck, Deer Creek was enough for her. She shook her head, knowing full well she was hardly one to cast aspersions. Just as the season-hoppers might be fleeing their pasts, she too was in her own form of escape. Deer Creek was where she had been hiding for well over a year. And being a lone wolf suited her down to a T.
* * *
Fraser pulled up to the clinic with a professional swish. He’d done higher-level Alpine training in the military, but skiing had always been something he’d enjoyed for pleasure as well. Snowboarding was a welcome adrenaline rush to add to his repertoire.
Slipping off his boots, Fraser popped his snowboard onto the clinic’s purpose-built stand and jogged, sock-footed, into the wood-shingled building. He couldn’t stop a smile from slipping onto his full lips. Mountainside menace. That was a good one.
He felt a quick stab of guilt about his near collision on the piste with the black-haired beauty—but it was his first day of work and an emergency was an emergency. Besides, wearing a white ski suit was hardly an advertisement to your presence on the slopes. Even if it looked as though someone had poured Giselle Bundschen’s body into the woman’s form-fitting all-in-one. He’d been lucky he’d seen the red bobble on her hat.
Fraser was relieved to note that the building’s old-fashioned exterior hid an incredibly modern clinic. The Deer Creek website had shown photos of first-aid and examination rooms kitted out with everything a doctor needed up here. Well, everything but a full operating theatre and accompanying staff. Mind you, those were close enough, down at the Valley Hospital. Just a scenic trip down to the proper town on the gondola, or in an ambulance if the weather suited, and, voilà—everything a surgeon could dream of.
A petite redhead with a pixie cut leaned through a pair of swinging double doors, “Dr. MacKenzie? That was fast.”
What was the nurse’s name again? They’d only had a quick phone conversation and he’d been paying more attention to the details of the patient. Lisa? Lise? Liesel! Liesel the nurse and Tara the doctor. He’d better get those right.
Liesel’s voice sounded definitively Antipodean, despite her Germanic name. Australian, he would’ve guessed. If looks were anything to go by, she seemed a cheery sort. They’d work well together. Cheerful and easygoing. Just the sort of relationship he liked.
Fraser’s knowledge of his new boss was pretty limited, too. Taking the job had been a last-minute move, just like the decision to leave his previous post. And the one before that.
Never mind. He was good at his job. Emergency medicine was second nature to him after his time in the forces. He had no concerns in that department.
If his employers didn’t think seeing the world was a good enough reason to move on after a season on their hills, then—well—it was time to move on. Hopefully, the new boss wouldn’t come loaded with it’s-time-to-put-down-your-roots advice.
At the very least, he was hoping to learn something new from her. A quick internet search at the airport for Dr. Tara Braxton’s background showed an impressive tenure at one of America’s best orthopedic research hospitals. Then—poof—nothing until he found her in the clinic here at Deer Creek. The picture-perfect mountain resort was a far cry from the lofty heights of New York City’s medical elite if ever there was one.
“Dr. MacKenzie, the little boy and his mother are in Exam One.” The nurse’s warm Australian voice brought him back into the room.
“Yes, sorry, love. Excuse the lack of shoes. I was just—”
A fresh blast of piney mountain air flooded into the waiting room, along with a familiar-looking woman. She didn’t look pleased. Miraculously, her mood didn’t detract from her take-your-breath-away beauty. Tall and slender, clearly a regular on the slopes and without a speck of make-up. Enhancing that level of natural beauty wasn’t necessary. Apple-red lips, glossy black hair and creamy skin with his particular favorite, a smattering of freckles across the nose. Did those eyes of hers sparkle like starlit ebony when she was in a good mood? Fraser had seen his share of beauties in his time, but this woman hit every mark. Too bad relationships were off limits for him. The impact she’d had on him in this handful of seconds was like a fully weighted sucker punch. If ever someone had presented a need to re-examine the rulebook, this woman was it. In spades.
“I am going to have to have a word with the snow patrol. They need to start at dawn,” the woman growled in Liesel’s direction, oblivious of Fraser and his approving gaze. “Someone’s got to crack down on these hillside hooligans!” He watched with amusement as her eyes moved from Liesel’s bewildered face to himself. Here it comes, here...it...comes! The not-so-slow dawn of recognition.
“You?”
“If ‘hillside hooligans’ or ‘mountain menaces’ are to whom you are referring, then you’ve got me.” Fraser grinned broadly. He watched as she physically recoiled from him. That was a new one.
He pulled himself up to his full height as she fixed him with a potent glare. Wow. Usually a smile won the ladies over. This one clearly had her own set of hurdles to jump. He dropped the smile and jokey tone. He was a doctor and a patients’ needs came first. Posturing was a bunch of nonsense. She was going to have to get a grip and act like a grown-up.
“I am sorry for having distressed you, but I’m afraid I’ve got an emergency here at the clinic. So, if you’ll excuse me?” He turned towards the examination room Liesel had indicated held the patient.
“What? Wait a minute!” The woman’s voice hardened. “This is my clinic, so I think you’ll find any patients waiting here will be for me. Me or a Dr. MacKenzie, who’s meant to appear later in the—”
* * *
Tara felt her mouth go dry for the second time in less than five minutes.
“Wait a minute. You’re Dr. MacKenzie.”
“Nice to meet you.” Fraser instinctively glanced at the exam room, hoping this interrogation would end fairly quickly. Then again, this wasn’t strictly the best way to meet your new boss. “Dr. Braxton, I presume?”
Fraser offered her another smile, this time secretly enjoying the pretty flush of scarlet creeping into Tara’s cheeks as he extended a hand towards her. Good. He did have an effect on her.
Tara curtly took his proffered hand and offered a quick one-two, business-only shake. Was she always this spirited or was it exclusive to nearly being run over by a new colleague? He suspected the former.
“Excuse me, doctors.” Liesel’s voice broke through the tension-thick air. “We’ve got a little boy in here with a black eye, a potential concussion, sore wrist and a very worried mother.”
Tara wished she could scrub away the flush of heat from her cheeks. Unlikely, as Liesel’s comment only caused it to deepen. Fraser MacKenzie had actually taken her breath away and she wasn’t happy about it. Not in the slightest. Particularly as she had worked so hard to separate work and emotions. The last thing she wanted to compromise was her professional duty. And she was most certainly not going to let a gallivanting snow jockey get the upper hand.
“Of course. Sorry, Liesel. Why didn’t you radio me?”
“I tried, but you didn’t respond.” Liesel glanced at the clipboard she held in the crook of her arm. “The little boy’s mum, a Mrs. Carroll, was so anxious I rang Dr. MacKenzie on the off chance he was nearby and he said he’d race over.”
“He raced over all right,” Tara muttered under her breath, as she moved her hand down to her belt to check her radio. The little green light wasn’t shining.
“Dead batteries?” His smile was friendly but Tara was sure she could hear a patronizing tone in Dr. MacKenzie’s voice. “Could’ve happened to anyone.”
“Batteries often freeze at high altitude, as I’m sure you know.” Tara quirked an eyebrow at him and forced the corners of her lips to turn upwards into a bright smile.
Why couldn’t he just keep his mouth shut? Tara felt like kicking herself—and kicking Fraser MacKenzie. Did his eyes really need to twinkle with delight when he rubbed in what a schoolgirl error she had made? This was hardly a competition for who could be the better doctor.
Batteries frequently froze up here at high elevation. Fact.
Even so, it was a stupid mistake. What if she hadn’t been near the clinic and a patient required critical care? She’d have to renew the vigor of her checks every morning and stick a spare pair of batteries into the insulated pocket of her ski suit before she went out. More importantly, even if Fraser did make Braveheart look like a wimpy nerd, she needed to make sure this encounter ended with her new employee understanding who ran things here. And it certainly wasn’t him. She began to unzip her ski jacket and put on her best charm-school voice.
“Dr. MacKenzie, since you haven’t had a chance to settle in, I’ll take this patient.” Before he could protest, she slipped past him and opened the door, forcing herself to look up into those blue-as-a-lake eyes before she disappeared into the exam room.
“Are you happy to show us what you’re made of later in the day?”
“Perfectly.” Fraser flashed her a dazzling smile, put his hand up in a mock salute and clicked his heels together.
Tara’s hand clenched the door handle, nerves jangling with—what, exactly? Embarrassment? Anger? Definitely embarrassment. Show us what you’re made of? Sweet heavens above. It was more than clear the man was made of one part gorgeous to one part devil-may-care. She might have to rejig the ratios a bit but...
Unwilling to let him see her falter, Tara dropped her gaze to the floor. Despite herself, her ire disintegrated in an instant. Fraser’s socks had little cartoon snowmen dappled all over them. It was all she could do not to burst into giggles. Not that she was going to let him know he wasn’t the only one with a closet affection for the holidays.
C’mon Tara. Be fair. Give the guy a chance to explain himself.
To buy herself time, Tara allowed herself a cautious visual journey back up those long legs and well-muscled torso, landing straight on those perfectly blue eyes. It shocked her to realize she’d just ogled him. At close range. You’re a doctor, for heaven’s sake! Get a grip!
“I’ll tell you what.” Tara did her best to let the words trip out lightly. “Let’s meet for coffee at the café next door in an hour and I’ll talk you through how the clinic works.” Unable to resist a bit of a barb, she turned to face her nurse, “Liesel, can you let Dr. MacKenzie know where the outdoor shop is, please? He might find it a bit chilly to work out the season in his snowmen socks.”
Tara quickly entered the exam room before letting the full impact of Fraser MacKenzie’s tall, dark and ridiculously handsome looks sink in. Chestnut-brown hair with the perfect amount of salt and pepper at the temples. A pair of blue eyes that seemed backlit they were so bright. And the cheekbones. Knock-your-knees-out-from-under-you cheekbones. Her personal weakness.
For heaven’s sake! She felt jittery enough after their high-speed run-in on the slopes. Having to absorb the fact she’d somehow hired the living, breathing image of her fantasy man—complete with a sexy Scottish accent—was too much.
“Are you all right, Doctor?”
A young woman stood up from the exam-room chair and reached out an arm to Tara as if to steady her.
“That’s my line!” Tara tried to quip, hoping to retain the smallest modicum of professionalism. Patients first. Heart doing a wild jitterbug? Not an option. Not any more.
“Now, who’s this?”
“I’m Henry and this is my Mom.” The blond boy sitting on Tara’s exam table piped up. He seemed in good enough spirits despite the worried expression on his mother’s face and the large pack of frozen vegetables he held over his eye.
“May I have a look?” She took the packet from him and placed it on the exam table.
“Wow! That’s one heck of a panda eye you have there, young man.” Wincing with sympathy, she continued, “I’m glad to see your mother was smart enough to bring out the frozen peas!”
“We told him to wait until we were up to put on his ski boots, but you just couldn’t hold on, could you, Henry?” Mrs. Carroll smiled lovingly at her boy, but Tara could see how concerned she was.
He did have a small cut above his eye, but it wasn’t bleeding. What concerned Tara more was how gingerly he was holding his wrist.
“Henry, it’s nice to meet you. I am Dr. Braxton.” She gave him the most relaxed smile she could muster despite the flock or herd or whatever it was of butterflies still careering round her stomach. Thanks a heap, Dr. MacKenzie.
“Would you like to tell me what happened?”
“Sure!” Henry smiled up at her after getting a reassuring nod from his mother. “Mom and Dad told me not to put on my boots until we went skiing. So this morning I knew we were going skiing and no one was up yet, but I was excited, so I brought my boots upstairs to try them on outside Mom and Dad’s room and they fit so I started to walk downstairs to get some juice because I was thirsty and...” Here he stopped and shot an anxious look at his mother.
“Go on, you silly little thing.” His mother couldn’t help laughing at her son’s pell-mell style of story. “Tell the doctor what happened next.”
“Well...it turns out it was harder to go down the stairs than I thought and I tripped and fell and bumped all the way to the bottom.” Henry gave Tara a triumphant grin.
“Looks like you showed those stairs who was boss.” Tara smiled at his bravery.
“If this isn’t proof my husband should’ve booked a cabin instead of the townhouse, I don’t know what is!” Mrs. Carroll was trying to keep her voice light, but a slight waver betrayed her anxiety.
Tara smiled reassuringly. “Believe me, accidents can happen anywhere. I’m sure this was nothing you could have foreseen. Henry, do you mind if I take a look at your wrist?”
The little boy automatically pulled his arm towards his stomach.
“It’s okay, Henry. I know it must hurt.” Tara reached into a drawer behind her and pulled out a child’s instant cold compress. Giving the packet an experienced twist and shake, she handed it to the boy. “Why don’t you hold this on your wrist for a minute?” Once he had the pack resting on his arm, Tara continued, “I’d better do a check to make sure you didn’t conk your head too hard when you landed.” She bent her knees so she was level with his eye line. “Can you just follow my finger?”
A few tests and a soft splint later, Tara felt satisfied that Henry had no permanent damage.
“Looks like you have a resilient son here, Mrs. Carroll, but I’m afraid his wrist is sprained. I think we can safely rule out a break as he has a full range of movement despite the swelling. Forty-eight hours of rest, elevation and cold compresses should help ease the pain.”
Tara couldn’t stop herself from ruffling Henry’s curly blond hair. She’d always imagined she’d have a little boy. A couple of them. Not that she was too bothered if they were boys or girls. Just healthy kids, part of a happy family. Ah, well. Dreams were just that. Fanciful flights of your imagination. No room for those any more.
Clearing her throat, Tara wiggled a playful finger at Henry. “Be sure to listen to your mom, now. We’ll get you back out on those slopes lickety-split.” Henry grinned with relief.
Turning, Tara addressed Henry’s mother, “Make sure you call me if he complains of any dizziness, nausea or starts to have any balance problems. Here’s a sheet listing concussion symptoms to look out for, but I’m pretty certain you’re in the clear.”
“Thank you so much, Dr. Braxton. This will certainly make our Thanksgiving vacation more interesting! I hope you and your family have a great holiday.”
Tara’s brow cinched into a furrow, her thumb moving mechanically to the finger that had once held a diamond solitaire. She was here on her own. And that’s how she liked it.
“Just me and my stethoscope, I’m afraid!” Tara shook the stethoscope in what she hoped looked like a carefree manner.
“I’m so sorry, I just assumed...” The poor woman looked mortified.
“Not to worry. An easy mistake to make.”
Tara held her smile until the mother and son walked out of her exam room.
Just the mountains and me. Just the way I like it.
* * *
Fraser grinned as the cowbell rang out when he entered the log cabin-style café next to the clinic. He’d spent seasons in all types of ski resorts, but there was something different about Deer Creek. His staff condo didn’t have the usual temporary feeling hanging about it and the resort village itself, just a small main street with a smattering of specialized shops and a fire department, was...welcoming. That was it. Welcoming. The place made him feel like he’d come home. Which was rich coming from someone who’d been born several thousand miles away and had actively avoided having a permanent address for the past four years.
He felt his smile fade. Four years. Four years that would never bring his brother back, no matter how many times he went over his options that day. He’d survived. His kid brother hadn’t. It was as simple as that.
Fraser shook the thoughts away and stepped up to the counter heaving with scones, fruity muffins, oversized brownies, and to-die-for cookies. He didn’t usually go in for baked goods so early, but he had just snowboarded for a good hour.
“What can I do you for?” A cheerful woman behind the counter with a thick braid running down her back smiled up at him.
“What would you recommend for a man who is about to start his first day of work?”
“Ooh! New job, eh? First impressions are very important.”
Fraser winced at the memory of the first impression he’d made on Tara. Definitely not a winning one, that was for sure. Ah, well. It’s not strictly as if his new colleague had skied straight off the slopes of the Deer Creek charm academy.
“You will want to have just the right breakfast if you’re going to cut it up here in Deer Creek.” Her eyes twinkled as she put on a mock expression of gravity and scanned his options.
“If I were you, and bear in mind I made everything you see here before you, I would start with a caffe latte and a blueberry muffin because I picked the berries myself and powered up the dough with a bit of protein powder.”
“That sounds good. I will need all the strength I can get today.”
“And why is that exactly?” The woman leant forward conspiratorially. “Is the new boss a bit of an ogre?”
“Exactly! Wait, no. Hmm...” Fraser reconsidered, enjoying the playful tête-à-tête with the café owner, “More like a drill sergeant in a sexy ski suit. Nothing I can’t handle. Particularly if I bribe her with a few of these treats you have here.”
“So your boss is a bit of a push-over, is she?”
The sound of Tara’s voice hit Fraser’s nerve endings before he saw her. Great. Just great. If she was going to be this sensitive about everything that came out of his mouth it was going to be a long season.
“Morning, Tara! So this is the new doc you hired?”
“You guessed right, Marian. I’m afraid I am to blame.” Tara offered a hundred-watt smile to Marian and a cool half-glance in Fraser’s direction. Is that all you’ve got? C’mon, Dr. Braxton. You’ll have to play harder than that if you want to stick in the daggers. This could be fun.
“Oh, I wouldn’t blame you for hiring this one.” The café owner gave Tara a naughty grin, not even attempting to hide her approval of Fraser’s looks. And we can chalk another point up for MacKenzie!
Tara leant forward conspiratorially, a smile playing on her lips and her eyes trained on Fraser as she addressed her friend. “Trust me, Marian, if I’d realized I’d hired a speed freak who has problems with his superiors I would’ve gone straight back to the drawing board.”
Fraser flinched, unable to staunch the memory of his commanding officer ordering him to return from the combat zone. So it’s time for hardball, is it? If Tara wanted to play this game, it was fine with him. He didn’t have anything to lose. Not any more.
“The ink’s hardly dry on my contract...”
“I don’t think we’re quite at that point.” Tara met his gaze, the merest hint of a question in her eyes. “Are we?” It was a statement. Not a question.
No. Perhaps not just yet. He was the one who chose when to leave. Not the other way around. Besides, just a couple of mini-encounters with this woman and he knew instinctively she was more substance than style. And she had buckets of style.
“Will you have the regular, dear?” Marian interjected, seemingly oblivious to the verbal sparring match being played out in front of her muffin display.
“Yes, please, Marian, and could you also add on whatever Dr. MacKenzie would like as well? We wouldn’t want him thinking we are bereft of manners out here in the wilds of Deer Creek.”
There was that fiery glint in Tara’s eyes again. How playfully or not it shone was up in the air.
She sure was a live wire. Even so, the last thing Fraser wanted was for Tara to think he was a sexist pig. Women were paramount in his life. His mother had almost single-handedly raised him and his brother, with their father’s military career consuming most of his time. And his brother’s wife? Well, he had met few people who could hold a candle to the strength and determination she had shown the past few years. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing the images of his family to stay behind the door he’d had to shut four years ago. They were better off without him.
“I’m afraid I can’t let you do that.”
“And why is that, exactly?” Tara’s dark eyes held his gaze, genuinely curious.
“Because we are professionals and while you may run the clinic, I am quite able to fend for myself.”
“No one’s doubting your ability to buy a blueberry muffin, Dr. MacKenzie. What I am doubting, is your ability to accept some Deer Creek hospitality.”
Fraser was a master at keeping his cool and he was damned if he was going to blow his top over who was or wasn’t going to buy a blueberry muffin. This whole palaver would be a lot easier if Tara didn’t make a glaring expression and firmly crossed arms look so attractive. Fraser was no chauvinist, but he certainly was about as red-blooded a male as they came.
He took a level breath and continued, “Where I come from, manners are paramount.” He saw her eyes narrow dubiously. “It is not unusual for a new employee to greet their boss with a purely professional, no-strings-attached latte and a...” he glanced at the counter as Marian brought out a huge plate of pancakes and a steaming pitcher of syrup “...very impressive plate of pancakes.”
Marian leaned in before Tara could respond. “Keep this one on, honey. I think we’ll like having him around the place.”
* * *
Tara shot her friend an I-love-you-but-you’re-not-really-helping look.
Okay. He definitely had charming and suave covered. Not so sure about the “professional” part.
Good grief. Chill out, Tara! Fraser seemed sincere enough. And her last comment had clearly hit a nerve. Not entirely sure which nerve, but there was definitely more going on than met the eye with this man. Anyhow, she hadn’t heard the entire conversation with Marian so it wasn’t entirely fair to judge. Eat your pancakes and let it go! Besides, staring into those startlingly azure eyes of his wasn’t exactly helping her focus. Neither was the fact that he had called her a drill sergeant. Maybe she’d pushed the cool and reserved boss thing a bit too far.
This wasn’t fair! She had worked hard to get herself back to the fun-loving person she had always been before New York and now she was coming across all grouchy and horrible.
“I’ll throw in one of Marian’s salted caramel brownies for later if that will seal the deal.” Fraser tipped his head in the direction of her absolutely favorite indulgence and gave her a knowing wink.
“Now, let’s not go overboard.” It was difficult to keep a smile from creeping onto her lips. The man was good. No doubt about it. “A plate of pancakes will suffice to give us a clean slate.” Tara knew she sounded churlish but she didn’t want Fraser to think his charming smile was actually making her go weak at the knees. Which it was. Or that his long-lashed wink had unleashed a reel of goose-bumps up her arms. Which it had. But she had to ignore that now and act like his boss. Which she was.
Arghhhh! Why didn’t she ask for photos of her applicants?
“For heaven’s sake, honey.” She felt Marian poking her arm playfully. “Let the man buy you a brownie. You know they’re your favorite and they were freshly baked this morning!” Marian adorned her sales pitch with a musical trill as Fraser put on what she imagined was his best contrite expression.
“Thank you. I gratefully accept.” Tara quickly whisked her pancakes off the counter and made her way to a window table before she made a bigger fool of herself. Any more deep and meaningful eye contact with Dr. Fraser MacKenzie would be a swan dive into a danger zone she didn’t want to enter. Not in a million years.
Tara took advantage of his turned back to lean her head against the cool window for a moment before pulling her fingers through her hat-head hair. She could hear Fraser laugh quietly with Marian as he settled the bill. Even across the room that sexy voice of his put her senses on high alert. Who was she kidding? Every single thing about the man had her feeling more alive than she’d ever felt and she’d only known him for a New York second. New York. The place that had taught her how important it was to be careful—guarded. To look after number one.
Sighing, she picked up her fork and stabbed at a pancake. Maybe she was a bit uptight. But that was hardly her fault. Life had taught her to be wary and Fraser was setting off all of her alarm bells. Besides, she primly reminded herself, he had nearly had a serious collision with her this morning so she had a right to be cross with him. And another thing! Did he have to be so—so accurate in assessing her character when they’d known each other less than five minutes? She would have to be tough. Cool. Professional.
“One gingerbread latte for the good doctor.”
Uh-oh. Was that Scottish accent of his going to get her every time?
