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a little stir-crazy, too, if I were you.” He nodded at Rikki while he listened to Mrs. Turner’s lungs through his stethoscope. “Take a deep breath,” he told the patient. “Does it hurt when you breathe?”

      “No, I just feel like I need to cough.”

      “Let’s get a blood gas, stat,” he said to Rikki. “How is her urine output?”

      “Um…” Rikki hadn’t thought to check her intake and output, and Mrs. Turner hadn’t asked to use a fracture pan yet that morning.

      He didn’t wait for her response. “Get some IV fluids going—normal saline, 125 cc an hour. Get a urine sample to check for fat globules. I’ll order a stat CT scan of the brain and lungs, and we’ll start heparin therapy after the blood gas has been done. Page me as soon as the results are back.”

      Rikki flew out of the room and paged the respiratory therapist for the blood gas test, then rushed to the supply closet for what she’d need to start the intravenous line. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Dr. Hendricks scribbling on a green doctor’s order sheet, and blanched when he glanced up and caught her. When he smiled and nodded, she flushed and scuttled back to the patient’s room, trying not to feel flustered under his smoldering gaze.

      In the midst of setting up the IV bag and tubing, Dr. Hendricks appeared in the doorway again.

      “Here’s my beeper number.” He handed her a small piece of paper.

      She snatched it with an unsteady hand. He didn’t let go of his end of the paper, forcing her to tug and look up at his teasing eyes. He gave her a casual smile and said, “Good catch. This could have gotten ugly. Oh, and I’ve ordered IV steroids.”

      “You’ll be fine.” He called out to Mrs. Turner. “Rikki here will keep tabs on you until I get back.”

      He nodded again, and smiled in a naturally sexy way that made her toes curl, then left.

      She stood quietly, shaken. Why did she let him have such power over her? Damn, denial was useless—she had a crazy crush on the man. There was no getting around it.

      Thankfully, she had something to distract her, something much more pressing to attend to than Dr. Hendricks’s make-your-knees-knock smile. She had a sick patient to care for.

      Dane had finished his weekend rounds and discharged several patients. Mrs. Turner’s computerized tomography revealed early evidence of fat embolism in her lungs, and she needed to be transferred to ICU and intubated until her condition came under control. If Rikki hadn’t been on the ball, the patient’s prognosis could have been much worse.

      He put his hands in his pockets, deep in thought, and walked to his car in the doctors’ parking lot. He glanced up to find a captivating vision before him. Rikki’s hips swayed with a mesmerizing rhythm as she walked quickly to her car. She’d unwound her bun and, as if a pendulum, her ponytail kept counter-time to her strut in a most alluring way. He rushed and caught up with her.

      “What’s your hurry? Hot date?”

      She spun around, looking surprised. “Oh.”

      He could get used to that wide-eyed liquid brown gaze of hers.

      She’d changed into baggy camouflage pants and a tight T-shirt, revealing a modest chest. Her backpack matched the pants. Not exactly the sexiest outfit he’d ever seen, but on her it worked. The fashion statement was further evidence that he couldn’t deny: he was a good ten years her senior. Could they possibly have anything in common? At least she wasn’t wearing combat boots, just brown high-top canvas sport shoes!

      “Um,” she said, as though still trying to figure out what to say. “No. I have some errands to run.”

      “I see.” He forced her to slow down, so they could walk together and talk. “Where are you parked? I’ll walk with you.”

      Painful silence made Dane more uncomfortable than he’d been in ages. Had he forgotten how to make conversation with a woman? He definitely needed to get out more. Well, he could always keep the subject on business. “Again, I want to thank you for being on the ball with Mrs. Turner.”

      “Oh, you’re welcome, but it’s my job.”

      “And you do it well.”

      It was never a good idea to socialize with people at work, especially with the kind of thoughts Rikki Johansen put into his mind. But his daughters had a sleepover party that night, and he was free to have some adult time. Only problem was, he didn’t have anyone to spend it with. And seeing the ortho nurse had given him an idea. Ah, hell, why not just dive right in?

      He cleared his throat. “If you’re not busy tonight, how about having dinner with me?”

      The color drained from Rikki’s face. She practically stumbled before coming to an abrupt halt, though she covered it well by searching the asphalt for the invisible stray rock that must have tripped her. “You want to have dinner with me?”

      “I believe that’s what I said.”

      More stunned silence.

      “Are you involved with anyone?” he asked.

      “Well, no. But…” She bit her lower lip.

      “I know, it might be considered improper of me to ask you out, but it’s not like I’m your boss or anything. We may work for the same hospital, but I don’t sign your checks, and it’s just dinner, you know?”

      “I’m parked over here.” She pointed to an older and well-worn car. “Um…”

      “Listen, if I’ve put you on the spot, forget I said anything, OK? No hard feelings.”

      “No. It’s not that.” She glanced briskly his way, as though torn about what to say, and dug into her backpack for her car keys.

      An odd feeling of discomfort prompted him to do more explaining. “I enjoyed watching the movie with you the other night, and I thought we’d started to get to know each other at the donor center. You seem like a nice woman and, bottom line, I don’t feel like eating alone. That’s all I’m saying.”

      He didn’t want to pressure her into feeling obligated to go out with him. Though usually any woman he’d asked out jumped at the chance. Damn, had he gotten that rusty in the last few months?

      Rikki still hadn’t located her keys, and dug into several different pockets of the backpack in a frustrated manner. So how could he get out of this awkward mess he’d made and still save face?

      “I’m not on call, but I gave you my beeper number earlier today. If you change your mind, beep me. I’ll keep it turned on, just for you.” Let her think whatever she wanted about the double meaning of “turned on.” She did flip his switch—that, he couldn’t deny.

      But he had his pride. He’d dump the dinner invitation in her lap, and if she didn’t follow through, he’d know she wasn’t the least bit interested and forget about it. But, damn, he could have sworn there was something, some kind of chemistry between them. He’d definitely felt it. And he really did want to explore where it all might lead.

      Maybe he’d been wrong?

      He reached into his shirt pocket for his business card and handed it to her. “Don’t lose that number.” He attempted a dashing smile while feeling strangely insecure. “My cell phone number is on it, in case I don’t answer my beeper.”

      She read the card and recited his number. “OK.” She scratched her nose. “I’ll see how things go.”

      Not the most encouraging answer in the world, but he’d settle for it.

      No fancy automatic car opener for Rikki, she shoved the key into the lock, swung open a creaky and dented door, and slid inside behind the steering wheel. He noticed a child’s booster seat in the back. Did she have a kid?

      Right this minute he didn’t care if she had three kids, he

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