Her McKnight in Shining Armour. Teresa Southwick
Читать онлайн книгу.
in or out of his jeans. Maybe if she’d never seen him naked...
She was looking at his backside instead of the last step and her heel caught. One second she was upright and the next she went down with a small scream. Her body twisted to the side but her shoe didn’t and she felt more than heard something in her ankle pop. Then a blinding pain ripped through her lower leg.
Alex was beside her instantly, one knee on the ground. “Are you okay?”
“I’m not sure. I think I twisted my ankle. It really hurts.”
When he freed her high heel she cried out. “Dammit. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Oh...gosh, that hurts. Can you help me up?”
His mouth pulled tight as he slid an arm around her waist and took her weight to get her standing. When she set her foot on the blacktop parking lot, she cried out again. The pain took her breath away.
“That’s it.” Alex scooped her into his arms. “Good thing there’s a doctor right next door.”
“That’s not necessary. I’m sure it’s just a sprain.” Please, God.
“My brother can deal with that, too,” he said grimly.
“You’re sure I can’t talk you out of this?”
“Not a chance in hell.”
Truthfully, Ellie was glad he took over. She put her arms around his neck and gritted her teeth against the pain. Somewhere she’d heard that damage to the tendons and ligaments was painful and took longer to heal than a broken bone, but that seemed less incapacitating than the alternative. She couldn’t be incapacitated. That would mean a delay in the Mercy Medical Clinic project. Delays were never good, but she couldn’t afford one now while she was trying to reverse a black eye to her professional reputation.
* * *
Ellie was stretched out on the exam table at the clinic with her ankle elevated. She was waiting for the orthopedic specialist to return with the verdict—sprain or break. Dr. McKnight—he’d said to call him Ben—had told her it was probably broken, but the X-rays would tell definitively. After giving her something for the pain, he’d told her to rest. If only...
She’d never been so tired in her life. The pressure to be perfect on this job had taken a toll, and then there was Alex. Why couldn’t he have been a sixty-year-old hunchback who looked like a troll? She could work with a troll, and a gnarled little man probably wouldn’t have an award-winning butt capable of distracting a woman into falling down the stairs. Right this minute it was a toss-up about which was worse—pain or humiliation. Since the meds were working, she’d go with the latter for now.
When there was a soft knock on the exam room door, she carefully rolled to her side toward it, making the paper beneath her crinkle loudly. “Come in.”
A second later Ginny Irwin stood in the doorway. “How are you feeling, sweetie?” The nurse’s voice was firm and straightforward but not unkind.
“Better.” Ellie shifted on the table and winced at the dull pain radiating from ankle to thigh. “I’m sure it’s just a sprain.”
Ginny was sixtyish and tall, her gray hair cut in a pixie style. Pity mixed with the no-nonsense expression in her blue eyes. “Sometimes the worst of it is not knowing. Can’t take action until you know what action to take.”
“Do you have any idea when the doctor will get the results of the X-rays?”
“I wish. We shoot the pictures, but a trained radiologist has to read them. In a perfect world there would be one available to interpret the films, but you’re in Blackwater Lake. The good news is you have Ben McKnight.”
“Oh?” And she’d slept with his brother. Would he hold that against her if he knew?
Ginny moved beside the table. “If this happened in Dallas you couldn’t have a better orthopedic specialist. I’ve never seen him call an X-ray wrong.”
“So he can tell me whether or not it’s broken—”
“’Fraid not, sweetie. In his opinion that would be making a guess, since that’s not his specialty.” Ginny pressed index and middle fingers to Ellie’s wrist, presumably taking a pulse. She nodded with satisfaction. “The films we took are remotely read. They’re emailed to the hospital, where the radiologist will make the determination and give Ben a report. There’s no telling how long it will be before we have the results.”
Ellie felt a little spurt of panic. “What happens if it gets too late?”
“Don’t borrow trouble,” the nurse advised. “We’ll cross that bridge when and if we have to. Here at Mercy Medical Clinic we’re good at improvising.”
“I didn’t mean to be pushy. No offense meant.”
“None taken. You’re hurting and handling it much better than some. It’s human nature when you’re in pain and scared to lash out. You’re impatient.” Ginny grinned. “No pun intended. I can handle that. It’s perfectly natural to wonder what’s going to happen.”
“I’ll try not to be too antsy.”
“Not on my account.” The older woman studied her with a critical eye. “Can I get you something? A snack? We’ve got cookies and fruit in the break room. Maybe something to drink? Ginger ale to give you something to keep up your strength?”
“No, thanks.” Her stomach was tied in knots. “I don’t think I could get anything down right now.”
“Yes, you can. I know just the thing.” Without waiting for a protest Ginny turned to leave. “Now you try to rest.”
Easier said than done, Ellie thought. She was feeling pathetically alone and abandoned when there was another knock on the door. She prayed it was Ben McKnight bearing good news.
“Come in.”
A moment later there was a McKnight in the doorway but not the one she’d hoped to see.
Alex was holding a can of ginger ale and a plastic cup with a flex straw in it. “Hi.”
Ellie was irritated that he could look so darn good when she felt like roadkill. “I told you to go home.”
Those had been her exact words right after he’d carried her all the way from the construction trailer to this exam room in the clinic. And he’d handled her as if she weighed no more than a child. Now she sounded witchy and ungrateful.
“I appreciate all your help, Alex. I didn’t mean to be rude.”
He put the can down on the counter by the sink and popped the tab. “Is that a Texas thing?”
“What?”
“You worrying about my feelings when you’ve got to be hurting like hell.”
“I was raised to have manners and to be kind and polite to everyone. And, just for the record, I don’t have to be hurting. I’m sure it’s just a sprain.”
“Even if you’re right, that doesn’t mean you’re not in pain. And if you want to take it out on me, go for it.” He poured the fizzy soda into the cup and waited for the bubbles to go down before bringing it over to the exam table. “Now, take a sip.”
“I told the nurse I didn’t care for anything.”
“There you go again with that well-bred, Southern fried stoic stuff. You don’t have energy to spare for manners, so cut yourself some slack. Now drink some of this. You’ve been through a trauma.” He must have seen the stubborn trickling through her, because he added, “I was told to make myself useful and give you liquids, and that’s what I intend to do. Ginny Irwin scares the crap out of me and everyone else in Blackwater Lake who comes here to Mercy Medical for treatment. If you’re as smart as I think you are, you’ll be scared of her, too, and do what you’re told.”