Medical Romance June 2016 Books 1-6. Lynne Marshall
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of an implication than a statement, Dr. Moreno. I believe you said the condition of the room was obvious evidence you had to take control of my ward and care of my patient.”
“And I was wrong. Something that rarely happens.” His smile grew wider. “I have seen you are excellent at what you do, both with patient care and medical care. I was glad to have you working with me today, keeping me informed of the variables on the monitor, which had me looking for complications when baby’s head had barely crowned. Cameron and Skye have much to thank you for.”
“Well.” What was it about this man that sent her breathing haywire with a simple compliment? Or was it more the way those green eyes caught and held hers? “I appreciate you saying that. And I’ve seen you are an excellent doctor.”
And wasn’t standing there giving one another kudos beyond awkward? Gabby quickly turned to tidy the room. “I’d better get to that housekeeping before you report me to James,” she said lightly, hoping to get back the equilibrium he seemed to throw out of whack every time she was near him.
“What I will report to James is that you are exceptional at dealing with patients like Cameron Fontaine. He did well to hire someone like you for a clinic catering to the rich and famous.”
A club he doubtless belonged to very comfortably. “Thank you again. Likewise.” Fumbling with the equipment, she managed to drop the suture kit, and items skittered in every direction across the floor.
Lord. She crouched to gather everything, feeling like a teenager hanging out with the high school football star, utterly clumsy and tongue-tied. When would the man leave so she could finish and go home to finally get more than a couple of hours’ sleep? Maybe then her brain would function better around Rafael Moreno, instead of strangely short-circuiting.
Then she had a complete brain freeze when he crouched next to her, his thick shoulder bumping hers as he helped her to pick things up. “Do I make you feel nervous, Gabriella? If so, I’m sorry.”
The soft rumble of his voice drew her gaze to his. She couldn’t move as she stared at the closeness of his lips. At the sculpted cheekbones and jaw. At the interesting gold and brown flecks within the green staring back at her. As she breathed in the scent of him—a mix of masculinity and antiseptic soap that on him smelled so sexy, her mouth went dry.
“Nervous? No, of course not.”
“I think that’s a lie. That needs to change, though, as it looks like we’ll be working together for the foreseeable future. So we will have dinner together, and you can educate me more about how the clinic and the maternity ward run.” He dropped the items onto her tray, then gently stroked his fingertip beneath her eye. “See if you can get in a short nap before your shift ends. That’s at six, sí? I’ll be back here at seven.”
Before she could formulate a single response to his astonishing suggestion he was gone, leaving her to stare openmouthed after him. When she’d gathered her wits, she stood and studied herself in the mirror, twisting her lips as her finger slowly traced the skin he’d just touched. Nothing like being told, basically, that you looked like a baggy-eyed wreck.
A wreck completely unready for a dinner date with a prince.
RAFAEL STUDIED THE woman sitting across from him, nearly smiling as he watched the gusto with which Gabriella attacked her meal. No Hollywood starlet starving herself here, or one of the many jet-setting socialites he knew who ate as little as possible to save their calories for a martini or three. Not that she wasn’t every bit as beautiful as those kinds of women, just harder working, spunky, and no-nonsense. Far more down to earth than the women he usually dated.
How had he never noticed the appeal of a woman like Gabriella?
“I trust that your dinner was tasty enough to overcome your doubts about sharing it with me?” he asked.
“I’m sure you’ve noticed that I’m practically licking my fork, and it’s so yummy I’m not even embarrassed about that. So you know the answer is yes.”
“Good. James recommended this restaurant, and I’m happy it lives up to its billing. And also happy that I now know the best way to persuade you is through your stomach.”
“As opposed to your overbearing insults of the past?” The twinkle in her light brown eyes belied the words, which he hoped meant they’d sent their first impressions of one another into the past. “And the recent one too. And here I thought you were supposed to be a suave sophisticate with a vast knowledge of women.”
“What makes you think I’m not?”
“No smart man wanting a woman to go on a dinner date tells her she should take a nap first because she has bags under her eyes. Then at dinner implies she’s making a pig of herself.”
He had to laugh. “I apologize profusely if that was how my words came across. Even after several long days of work, you still look amazingly beautiful. And as for the pig part, if that is you, it’s now my favorite type of creature. Watching you take pleasure in your dinner has made mine that much more enjoyable.”
Even in the candlelight he could see her luminous skin turn pink, which was something else attractive about her. He couldn’t think of another woman he knew who would blush at a simple compliment.
“Thank you. For the dinner and the flattery. Both of which have me wondering why you invited me here tonight. What exactly are you wanting from me?”
What did he want from her? He’d thought it was simply a cordial working relationship, learning from her the nuances of how The Hollywood Hills Clinic worked. But her words suddenly had him thinking about something entirely different, and his body stirred with a surge of testosterone.
There had to be legions of men who reacted to her the same way. He had to wonder if she had a man in her life. If she didn’t that would be surprising, but perhaps he’d caught her between boyfriends. Except he couldn’t be “catching” her at all, since the whole reason he was in L.A. was to steer clear of women and keep his face out of the papers until the heat from his parents cooled off. Their attitudes annoyed the hell out of him, but he still cared about them. It was probably part of his duties as a son to avoid giving either one of them apoplexy.
“All I want is for us to work well together, the way we did with Cameron this afternoon. And to learn a little about the clinic from you.” He stuffed down the wayward thoughts pushing him to ask about her personal life and sent her a smile he hoped was blandly professional. “Tell me why you became a midwife and where you trained.”
“I’m from a family of several generations of midwives, which isn’t as common here in the U.S. as in some other countries. I always knew that was what I wanted to do. Trained at a nursing school, then a midwifery program near Seattle, which is where I’m from.”
“And you came here after training?”
“No. I worked at a private midwifery unit there for quite a while. Came here two years ago.”
Was he imagining the shuttering of her eyes? That the relaxed smile on her face just moments ago had stiffened into something else? “Was it the appeal of working with famous people that drew you here?” He didn’t think so—she just didn’t seem like the type to care about that, but it wasn’t as though he really knew her.
“No. They’d approached me a few years before I came, then I...decided I wanted a change, and let them know I was available. How about you?” Her brown eyes held something—sadness maybe?—along with a clear determination to change the subject. “I have to admit it’s surprising to me that someone born a prince would decide to become a doctor.”
“Unless that prince is the second born. My parents saw my role within the kingdom as leading charity work, and while that’s worthwhile, I felt there were plenty of others who would happily take on that job. I wanted a career