Chapter 1 #3
“Dr. Darling will fix you right up. He’s very good.” And with that, Audrey wheeled the laptop away.
Dr. Darling? Victoria must be hearing things. Maybe the splinter had embedded itself in her brain.
Returning in her squishy white shoes that looked like marshmallows, Betsy helped her off with her jacket to take her blood pressure. “Hmmm,” she said. “A little high but understandable.” Then she took Victoria’s temperature, looked at it and smiled. “Okey doke. We’re good.”
Going to the end of the bed, she hung up the chart. “All set. Let’s get Dr. Darling in here.”
That can’t really be his name. As Victoria lay there, questioning her sanity and shivering because the room was icebox cold, the hottest man she’d ever seen swished through the drape.
With one large whoosh, her breath left her.
Why hadn’t she taken up nursing? Tall with broad shoulders and movie star features, Dr. Darling was way more than, well....darling. The man was flaming hot.
After glancing over her chart, Dr. Hot Stuff bent over her. “Looks like you got into some Christmas mischief.”
Don’t I just wish. “I–I was sawing off some pine branches. No big deal until this happened.” She tried to inject a saucy tone. How she wanted to be that girl, someone like Emily or Josie who just grabbed hold of projects and got them done.
Without injuring themselves. That part was important.
Dr. Hot Stuff shined a light in her eyes and she blinked. Why hadn’t she checked her eye makeup before leaving the apartment? Oh, right. Her right eye was streaming with tears. “I’m just going to open your eye a little bit. Let’s see what we’ve got.”
“Okay.” She felt helpless under his hand.
And why did that feel good?
Very gently, his fingers opened her eye wider. “Look left, please.”
She did as she was told. His breath smelled like mints. Maybe spearmint, her favorite.
“Now right. Hope this doesn’t hurt.” His tone softened.
“Oh, no.” This guy was the best pain medicine she’d ever had. Victoria tried to smile bravely while questions exploded in her brain. Was Dr. Darling married or seeing someone?
When he backed away, she checked his ring finger with her left eye. Nope. Turning her gaze to his dark hair and gray eyes with blue flecks, she felt woozy. Good thing she was lying down. Betsey had appeared at his elbow.
“Let’s give her some drops, and I’ll need a tweezers.”
“Will I need surgery?” That fake tree hadn’t been bad. Victoria had to learn to leave well enough alone.
But not when it came to her dating life. One touch of Dr. Darling’s fingers and she knew this. Nurse Betsy handed the doctor something.
“Surgery? I don’t think so,” he said with a cute grin. “Now, I’m going to squirt this numbing agent in your eye.”
“Will it hurt?” Victoria, that sounds cowardly.
“Not at all. Just some drops.”
The liquid hit her right eye, which he gently closed.
Those fingers. His hands. My heart.
Betsy dabbed at the drops dribbling onto her cheek.
Her right eye might be out of commission but her left eye kept busy. She was drinking him in like eggnog on Christmas Eve.
“So did you get your tree up?”
Tricky question. “Ah, yes. It’s up.” And butt ugly with absolutely no yummy smell.
“Wow, you’re way ahead of me.”
While he talked, she shivered.
“Cold?” Dr. Hot Stuff asked.
Burning up. “No. I’m good.” I will not wimp out.
“We keep this place really cool.”
Suddenly his fingers were gone. “Okay, let’s get this out. Eye open, please.” Betsy handed him something that glinted in the overhead light.
Her stomach clutched. “Are you sure I shouldn’t be put out for this?”
When he shook his head, the light bounced off his dark hair. “Nope. You’ll be fine. Here’s the culprit.” He held something up.
Squinting, she struggled to see it. “That’s small.”
He tossed it in a silver tray. “A splinter can feel like a boulder in your eye.”
Dr. Darling had that right. “Will I lose my vision?”
She kept blinking. Dr. Hot Stuff shook his head. “I don’t think you have to worry. But you could follow up with your family doctor.”
Nurse Betsy squeezed Victoria’s hand reassuringly. “You’ll be fine dear.”
When he glanced down at her chart, his thick lashes feathered over his cheeks. “How are you feeling, Victoria?”
Her name on his lips? Like honey butter on her hush puppies. “Fine. I guess.”
“Your eye might feel strange for a couple of days. The nurse will give you some drops. Try not to rub it.”
“Okay. Right.” I’d do anything for you, Dr. Hot Stuff.
“I’m going to apply a pad to your eye and tape it closed, Victoria.”
Ah, there it is again. Honey butter.
Gently and carefully, he placed a pad over her eye. She felt the tape being applied.
“Your cornea needs time to heal.” He stepped back, taking his minty smell and great head of hair with him. She wanted to bask in that smile.
“Betsy will give you instructions, but here’s a quick rundown.” Dr. Darling’s full lips puckered in the cutest way as he talked.
Then it hit her. Christmas and all her holiday plans. “How long will I have this on? I always go to Palm Beach with my family for Christmas.”
Was Betsy chuckling? Dr. Hot Stuff’s warm gray eyes had turned to stone. “You should be fine. Stay away from saws. That should be easy in Palm Beach.”
She chuckled but his smile had taken off for the North Pole. “Is your husband here to take you home? You shouldn’t drive tonight.”
Never had she felt so alone. “No,” she said softly. Her mother’s training rang in her ears. A lady always keeps her feelings to herself, Victoria. “I can manage.”
When Dr. Darling cocked an eyebrow, he had this great pirate thing going on. “You’ll have to call Uber.”
Aw, he cares about me. But not really. Something had changed. “All right.” Maisy could drive her over for her car tomorrow. Tears swelling in her eyes, she nodded.
“If you have any questions, let us know. Our number is on the paperwork.”
Then he left. With a swirl of his crisp white coat Dr. Darling, hottest man on the planet, was gone, his footsteps echoing down the hall.
Rustling papers in her hand, Betsy rattled off a bunch of instructions. “Any questions?”
Yes. Is he married or dating anyone? “No, I’ll be fine.” Grabbing the paperwork, Victoria slid off the bed.
“Let me help you on with that jacket.” Betsy sniffed. “Real leather, huh?”
“Yes.” Victoria stuck her arms in the sleeves. “Thanks so much.”
With her paperwork in hand, she made her way back to the waiting room. Some EMTs wheeled in a gurney. The guy looked like he was in bad shape. She shrank into the wall. Suddenly, her eye didn’t seem so major. Victoria stepped into the cool night air. Once in her car, she called Uber.
“Palm Beach,” Derek muttered to Betsy after they’d finished with another holiday accident. This time, a more serious one. “Give me a break.”
“She’s a very pretty girl,” Betsy said, like the mother that she was. “And she seemed quite taken by you.”
Blowing out an exasperated sigh, Derek stripped off his rubber gloves. “Of course a Pomeroy would spend the holidays in Palm Beach. She’s probably a spoiled brat. Did you see the boots?”
“I think she owns that pantry in town. Victoria’s Pantry. I’ve been there once or twice. My daughters love it. Great pastries.” Betsy threw him one of her mysterious grins. “Hey, some guys would like those boots.”
“I’m not ‘some guys.’”
“Okay then.” Holding up her hands like she was warding off evil demons, Betsy backed away.
Slamming a foot onto the pedal to open the trash, Derek tossed in his used gloves. “I tried for weeks to get in to see her father. When I finally made it into his inner sanctum, Victor Pomeroy turned me down flat.
“You mean, for your clinic?” Betsy asked softly.
“Right. I’ll be in my office, charting.” Glad to escape, he thundered down the hall.
Their Christmas tree shivered as he passed the desk.
Derek didn’t care if Victoria owned the moon.
He’d left women like her far behind. Sissy Hanover had been enough.
And Victoria had some of the same entitled markings.