was unexpected, infuriating and flattering all at the same time. Toughen up, I’ll show him tough, and obviously I would never expect him to catch me falling, what an ass. I know I’m irresistible , really? Screw you Mr. Conceited, I need to turn this back around to me being in control, and fast! Straightening up and leaning away from the unexplainable intoxication surrounding him, I gather myself. “Mr. Lawson, you are one cocky son of a bitch, and I will never require you to prevent me from falling, you will refrain from flirting with me. We have a professional relationship when I am your nurse and you will do well to file that bit of information away for future reference,” I snap…so shove that in your pipe and smoke it HA! I can’t believe I just told the most beautiful man in the universe he was a cocky son of a bitch. Shit, I hope I didn’t push him too far, but thankfully and much to my surprise, he throws his head back and roars with laughter.
“Oh nurse Mia, your quick, smart mouth slays me- no one speaks to me that way…no one, in fact I hope the driver didn’t hear that. I have a reputation to uphold as a cocky son of a bitch you know!”
I have no idea what to do with that remark, and I’m more than a little happy to feel the ambulance pull to a halt. Shit, I’m glad were getting out of this fucking box. I should have followed in my own car. The ambulance driver swings open the doors and light floods into the cab, unusually sunny for a fall day in Seattle, but I love the warmth on my face. Hopping out, I’m stunned by the beauty of the grounds surrounding Evans house, no “house” doesn’t even come close to describing this place- it actually looks very much like a castle, with two stone towers on either side of a grand, purple-colored double front door that opens instantly when we begin unloading the stretcher. A man about 10 years older than Evan strides toward us with a tight expression, obviously all business.
“Mr. Saint,” he introduces himself to me curtly. “You must be the nurse.”
“Uh yes, that’s me, Mia.” This man is intimidating, but not the same way Evan is. It’s more as if he was a military drill sergeant and it was my first day in boot camp. Mr. Saint is about 5 foot 11 inches tall with crystal blue eyes; he’s very tanned, and from what I can tell he’s in pretty good shape, bald, borderline handsome, and what’s more frightening in my opinion is the scar on his cheek running down to his neck, reinforcing my observations.
“Yes Mr. Saint, this is Mia; she’ll be staying with us for a while until I’m able to get around on my own. Ready a room near mine so she’ll be easily accessible to me,” Evan instructs. Oh no, he doesn’t- he’s not manipulating me into living here, that wasn’t in the agreement and he damn well knows it!
“Nice to meet you Mr. Saint, and there will be no need for a room, I’ll be going home at night and returning each morning. I have my own home and I’m staying there,” I say, looking directly at Evan and making sure he has perfect eye contact with me. He isn’t pleased, but he accepts my objection for now. Somehow I know this isn’t the end of this subject.
“Mr. Saint, make up a room anyway, just in case Ms. Galloway needs to lie down, she becomes faint quite easily.” He’s biting his lip, trying not to laugh at me, I’m fuming. Mr. Saint looks at me with raised eyebrows in question of Evans comment, or is it his playful behavior that has Mr. Saint looking back and forth between Evan and I with a shocked look on his face? I glare at Evan, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of a reply.
“Do as your please Mr. Saint, I don’t need a room, and don’t mind him, he hit his head quite hard in the accident,” I say jerking my thumb toward Evan. This banter seems to please Mr. Saint, and his expression is less severe as we roll Evan through the huge front doors on a gurney.
“Welcome home Mia, I hope you
“Oh nurse Mia, your quick, smart mouth slays me- no one speaks to me that way…no one, in fact I hope the driver didn’t hear that. I have a reputation to uphold as a cocky son of a bitch you know!”
I have no idea what to do with that remark, and I’m more than a little happy to feel the ambulance pull to a halt. Shit, I’m glad were getting out of this fucking box. I should have followed in my own car. The ambulance driver swings open the doors and light floods into the cab, unusually sunny for a fall day in Seattle, but I love the warmth on my face. Hopping out, I’m stunned by the beauty of the grounds surrounding Evans house, no “house” doesn’t even come close to describing this place- it actually looks very much like a castle, with two stone towers on either side of a grand, purple-colored double front door that opens instantly when we begin unloading the stretcher. A man about 10 years older than Evan strides toward us with a tight expression, obviously all business.
“Mr. Saint,” he introduces himself to me curtly. “You must be the nurse.”
“Uh yes, that’s me, Mia.” This man is intimidating, but not the same way Evan is. It’s more as if he was a military drill sergeant and it was my first day in boot camp. Mr. Saint is about 5 foot 11 inches tall with crystal blue eyes; he’s very tanned, and from what I can tell he’s in pretty good shape, bald, borderline handsome, and what’s more frightening in my opinion is the scar on his cheek running down to his neck, reinforcing my observations.
“Yes Mr. Saint, this is Mia; she’ll be staying with us for a while until I’m able to get around on my own. Ready a room near mine so she’ll be easily accessible to me,” Evan instructs. Oh no, he doesn’t- he’s not manipulating me into living here, that wasn’t in the agreement and he damn well knows it!
“Nice to meet you Mr. Saint, and there will be no need for a room, I’ll be going home at night and returning each morning. I have my own home and I’m staying there,” I say, looking directly at Evan and making sure he has perfect eye contact with me. He isn’t pleased, but he accepts my objection for now. Somehow I know this isn’t the end of this subject.
“Mr. Saint, make up a room anyway, just in case Ms. Galloway needs to lie down, she becomes faint quite easily.” He’s biting his lip, trying not to laugh at me, I’m fuming. Mr. Saint looks at me with raised eyebrows in question of Evans comment, or is it his playful behavior that has Mr. Saint looking back and forth between Evan and I with a shocked look on his face? I glare at Evan, but I don’t give him the satisfaction of a reply.
“Do as your please Mr. Saint, I don’t need a room, and don’t mind him, he hit his head quite hard in the accident,” I say jerking my thumb toward Evan. This banter seems to please Mr. Saint, and his expression is less severe as we roll Evan through the huge front doors on a gurney.
“Welcome home Mia, I hope you
Similar Books
