A Daddy Sent By Santa

A Daddy Sent By Santa Susan Carlisle When a small-town mum…Falls for a big-city doc…Nurse Lauren Wilson is used to doctors coming and going in her Oklahoma town—and she doesn’t expect prestigious Boston doc Paxton Samuels to be any different. Until they’re snowed in together and their sensual tension reaches boiling point! But, knowing Paxton is due to leave after the festive season, can Lauren risk giving him her heart and her little boy a daddy for Christmas? When a small-town mom... Falls for a big-city doc... Nurse Lauren Wilson is used to doctors coming and going in her Oklahoma town—and doesn’t expect prestigious Boston doc Paxton Samuels to be any different. Until they’re snowed in together and their sensual tension reaches boiling point! But knowing Paxton is due to leave after the festive season, can Lauren risk giving him her heart and her little boy a daddy for Christmas? “With detailed prose that sparkles with wit and engaging dialogue that sucks you in, it would be impossible not to lose your heart in Rex and Tiffani’s strong, passionate romance!” —Goodreads on Redeeming the Rebel Surgeon “Susan Carlisle skillfully interweaves the field of medicine with personal matters to create an abundance of compelling situation.... There are a wide range of feelings expressed, and each one is genuine and pulled me even more into the lives of two people who must search deep within themselves for what will make them truly happy.” —Goodreads on The Brooding Surgeon’s Baby Bombshell SUSAN CARLISLE’s love affair with books began in the sixth grade, when she made a bad grade in mathematics. Not allowed to watch TV until she’d brought the grade up, Susan filled her time with books. She turned her love of reading into a passion for writing, and now has over ten Medical Romances published through Mills & Boon. She writes about hot, sexy docs and the strong women who captivate them. Visit SusanCarlisle.com (http://www.SusanCarlisle.com). Also by Susan Carlisle (#u6bb431bb-c2e8-5e13-bc47-cebdb8e21573) His Best Friend’s Baby One Night Before Christmas Married for the Boss’s Baby White Wedding for a Southern Belle The Doctor’s Sleigh Bell Proposal The Surgeon’s Cinderella Stolen Kisses with Her Boss Christmas with the Best Man Redeeming the Rebel Doc The Brooding Surgeon’s Baby Bombshell Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk). A Daddy Sent by Santa Susan Carlisle www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) ISBN: 978-1-474-07545-9 A DADDY SENT BY SANTA © 2018 Susan Carlisle Published in Great Britain 2018 by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental. 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Trademarks marked with ® are registered with the United Kingdom Patent Office and/or the Office for Harmonisation in the Internal Market and in other countries. www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) To Katie Contents Cover (#ua3e70b48-6f4d-546d-994a-8c6e64b6195a) Back Cover Text (#ua4d7615f-a4fe-51b4-bda3-0adeeedc16ed) About the Author (#uf8684cf8-bb71-572a-ac18-253b1540bab2) Booklist (#ue27e97e4-53c4-5c02-8964-54d8738274e4) Title Page (#ucfc97ec7-fa6f-5594-a588-fe015224ca66) Copyright (#u00f95b90-9a1c-5332-a577-152e24f84d2b) Dedication (#u2cff80e4-5462-5403-95a4-e14a569cd043) CHAPTER ONE (#u0731515e-9910-5900-ad6a-e9f1527c8bca) CHAPTER TWO (#u16245868-3ff3-5e6f-b232-cccc24c97634) CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo) Extract (#litres_trial_promo) About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo) CHAPTER ONE (#u6bb431bb-c2e8-5e13-bc47-cebdb8e21573) PAXTON SAMUELS’ DECISION to leave Boston had been calculated. Volunteering for the temporary medical position in western Oklahoma hadn’t given him pause. It was his ticket out of the emotional nightmare his life had become. He needed this change in scenery, some privacy. Desperately. With his experience and training in emergency care and family practice, the temp job was a perfect fit for him. That it was halfway across the country from Boston only added to its appeal. Still, he’d not anticipated driving through a blizzard at the end of November in the middle of nowhere. He’d been prepared for culture shock but not this blowing snow and endless road. The unexpected brutal weather notwithstanding, the move was well worth the effort. It got him away from his parents’ demands as well as the media’s fascination with the spectacular failure of his wedding, which had been hailed as the “social event of the year.” He searched the empty white plain for any sign of civilization but only spotted an occasional tree. According to his GPS, Last Stop, Oklahoma, should only be a few miles ahead. Visibility was becoming so bad he had thoughts of pulling over until it improved. Still, he couldn’t shake the worry that if he did so the rapid snow accumulation would strand him. He had to push on. Moments later the terrain rose enough to obscure the road ahead. Paxton topped the small rise and instinctively stomped on the brakes. The back end of his sports car fishtailed. He yanked his foot off the brake, steering the car into the spin, and the vehicle straightened. In control again, he slowed to a stop and surveyed the wreckage before him. Blocking the road was a huge combine tractor lying on its side, a truck smashed against it. His job as local doctor was starting sooner than he’d thought. Paxton parked on what he guessed was road, making sure two of his tires remained on the pavement. Locating his cell phone, he called 911. The dispatcher answered and he reported the wreck, its location and that he was a doctor. “Help is on the way,” the dispatcher said, and ended the call. Opening the door, Paxton shuddered at the bone-cutting blast of wind and snow that assaulted him. He snatched his heavy wool overcoat from the front passenger seat and jerked it on. Reaching in again, he pulled out his medical bag. Pushing the door closed with his hip, he shoved his empty hand into a coat pocket and lowered his head against a biting gust. His toes curled in his shoes in an effort to generate heat as he trudged toward the accident. Reaching the pickup truck, he skidded across a patch of black ice, doing a little twist and turn, before he smacked his hand against the truck to catch himself. When his feet were firmly beneath him, he worked his way to the cab and peered through the driver’s side window. The man inside was slumped forward, his head against the wheel. Paxton knocked on the glass. The man moved slightly but didn’t straighten. Grabbing the door handle, Paxton pulled it open and touched the man’s shoulder. In a firm but caring tone he asked, “Hey, are you okay?” The man moaned and attempted to sit up. “Easy.” Paxton gripped his shoulder to hold him in place. “Don’t move. I’m a doctor. Can you tell me where you’re hurt?” “My head.” “I want you to remain still.” Swiftly Paxton assessed his head injury. Delving into his open bag and pulling out a packaged four-by-four bandage, he tore it free of the wrapper and pressed it over the man’s bleeding gash. “Someone will soon be here to help you. I need to check on the other person.” The man muttered, “Okay.” Making his way to the overturned tractor, Paxton stabilized himself by pressing a hand on the side of the truck. The cold metal felt like sharp pins beneath his fingers but fear of falling overrode the pain. What light he had was disappearing fast. At the tractor cab, he rubbed his hand in a circle across the window. From what he could make out there was one young man lying on his side, not moving. Paxton would have to climb up onto the side of the cab of the hulking piece of machinery, then lower himself inside to properly assess the unconscious man’s injuries. He studied the tractor. It wouldn’t be easy. Strapping his medical bag over his shoulders, thankful for the growing wail of an approaching siren, he carefully made his way around to the exposed undercarriage. To get inside he’d have to open the cab door. He examined the bottom workings of the engine for a footing. No help there. Even if he could find something to stand on he still couldn’t swing high enough to grasp the cab handle. The metal step to the cab was just above his head but not large enough to do him any good. On his best day he couldn’t pull himself up within reach of the door. He looked at the front tire of the tractor suspended in the air. That was his way in. Using the inside rim of the tire for foot support, he hefted himself up on the exposed axle then onto the side of the engine hood. Crawling on hands and knees, he located the latch. At least the engine was still warm enough to give his hands some relief. Reaching the door, Paxton kneaded his fingers to get them flexible then tried the handle. At first it wouldn’t budge. Using his palm, he hit it. His teeth clamped together as pain shot through his arm. After one more knock the handle shifted and he swung the door back. Warmth greeted him but soon vanished into the frigid twilight. He looked down at a teen, who still hadn’t moved. “Hey! Are you okay?” No answer. The siren grew louder. Relief washed through him. There would be help soon. In Boston he didn’t get tractor accidents so this was a new one for him. Getting on his belly, Paxton leaned in from his waist until he could touch the closest part of the boy’s body, which was his thigh. There was still heat there. He was alive. Carefully Paxton pulled himself back. He didn’t need to fall in and cause more damage to the boy or to himself. Sitting on his butt so he could go in feet first, he braced one foot on the side of the seat’s backrest and the other on the dash. Leaning as far forward as possible, Paxton just managed to put two fingers on the teen’s pulse point just below his jaw. It was faint. If the boy was going to live he needed help soon. The siren stopped. The strobe of the lights reflected off the cab. Help was finally here. Pulling his bag strap up over his head, he placed his medical duffel on top of the backrest and against the cab window behind his patient so it wouldn’t slide out of his reach. He opened it and one-handedly found his stethoscope. Getting it into his ears, he placed the bell on the teen’s chest. A thrill went through him. A heartbeat was there. As Paxton was reaching for the boy’s head a voice snapped, “Don’t touch him!” Looking back over his shoulder, all he could see was a face surrounded by a white cap trimmed in white fur. Echoing that command were rosy lips pulled tight, a small flared nose and wide glaring dark eyes. * * * “Don’t move him!” Lauren Wilson hung over the edge of the cab, using the tone of voice she’d perfected to stop her two-year-old son from doing something that could harm him. She couldn’t have some good Samaritan making matters worse. The situation was bad enough as it was. Her attention zeroed in on the stethoscope the man held. Amazement rocked her. It couldn’t be. Luck was with her. “You wouldn’t happen to be Dr. Samuels, would you?” “I am, and I’m glad to see you. Do you have help coming?” “I’m your help. Name’s Lauren.” He didn’t look too impressed. “I also have Rick with me. He’s a police officer,” she added. “We’ve got to get this boy and the other man—” he nodded toward the truck “—taken care of. Where’s the ambulance? This fellow needs to be gotten out of here and on his way to the hospital.” This wasn’t the type of doctor she’d been expecting. Someone older, less attractive. With graying hair and narrower shoulders. There wasn’t enough light to tell if his eyes were light blue or green. Last Stop’s longtime physician, Dr. Barden, had retired after forty-five years of service. He’d given up on finding a permanent replacement and had settled for coaxing doctors to at least fill in for a few months at a time, yet often there were no volunteers. The town and neighboring area needed a full-time doctor in residence. Lauren was the only nurse and medical professional for sixty miles. She helped where she could during emergencies until assistance arrived, but the town deserved more. Emergency medical aid was too far away in the absence of EMTs or a resident physician. Lauren looked over the top of Dr. Samuels as his attention returned to the patient. She had no doubt he was just one younger doctor meeting his medical school loan requirements. He would soon be gone. But for now she was glad to have him and tonight in particular. Lewis Williams, the teen who was folded against the cab windshield, she’d known all her life. From the looks of him Dr. Samuels was right. They needed to get him to the hospital right away. “Rick,” she called down, “it’s Lewis Williams. We need to get him out of here. We’re going to need lights, blankets, possibly a rope and your help up here. Throw me my bag.” She grabbed it as it sailed through the air. Lauren looked down at Dr. Samuels, who was wearing an expensive-looking coat and no head covering. “We need to get his neck stabilized before we move him.” “I realize that, but I don’t have a neck brace with me.” “I have one.” She pulled her bag closer. Unzipping it, she reached for the neck ring and handed it to him. He was already working his way around the steering wheel and farther into the cab when she said, “Hold on a minute. I’ll climb in and help you.” The confining space would be difficult for two to maneuver in but it would take both of them to get the neck brace into place. Fear clutched at her chest as she eased her way inside. Young Lewis had just earned a university scholarship. His future was bright. Now this. He reminded her too much of her husband. Young, smart and willing to work hard for what he wanted. Then to have it all destroyed by an explosion. She was brought out of her morbid thoughts by the doctor. “I want you to support him while I check his head wound. We don’t need to make any sudden movements that could make matters worse.” He seemed to be talking to himself as well as her. “The light is going. And this weather...” He glanced up. She watched snowflakes settle on his cheeks and forehead. Even in the dimming light, she registered he wasn’t the average man in looks or attitude. The few single young women in the area would be fighting over him. He was still speaking and she forced her wandering attention back to the crisis at hand. “If we don’t get him out of here we’re gonna have to worry about hypothermia on top of all his other injuries. What’s the ETA on the ambulance?” “Under an hour from the time it was called.” He muttered an expletive as his head jerked around. “That long!” “The closest hospital is over sixty miles away. In this weather...” She hadn’t meant it to sound so harsh, yet it was the truth. His mouth dropped in disbelief, although whether it was because of the distance or her snapping, she wasn’t sure. It might have been comical in any other situation. His expression went from resigned to determined as he turned back to their patient. “We’ve got to try and shorten that time or this boy may not make it.” Terror shot through her. Not another wasted life. She couldn’t stand another one of those. He commanded, “Hand me that brace.” She did so then placed a foot on the side of the seat to support herself as she climbed down farther into the cab. By the time she’d gotten situated, he was working the brace around Lewis’s neck with one hand while supporting himself with the other against the cab roof. Using her free hand, she helped him get it into place then secured it. “Good. Now I want to have a look at his head. At least get a four-by-four over the wound. Can you get your arm around his shoulders and pull him toward you while I lift his head?” The action would put her in an awkward position, but she would try. Lauren nodded. “Hold on a sec.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a square paper package, put it between her teeth and tore it open then handed the gauze to him. Moving her foot on the seat to the floor, which put her in contact with the doctor from hip to foot with the steering wheel column between them, she was stable enough to reach both arms around Lewis and pull him against her chest. At the same time the doctor used his hands to support Lewis’s head. “Good.” A second later he said, “It looks like he’s taken a good shot to the temple. I’m concerned about his brain swelling. He’s still not regained consciousness. You got a blanket in your bag of tricks?” Just as he said that Rick called, “Lauren, catch.” A blanket fell into the cab. She passed it to the doctor as another hit her on the head. “Rick, we’re going to need the rope and you up here,” she called. “What’re you thinking?” Dr. Samuels asked as he tucked the blankets around Lewis. “Tie the rope under his arms and have Rick pull him out as we push and steady him.” “Sounds like a plan. He needs to be in a warmer place than this. I need to check for any broken bones.” “Lauren, here you go,” Rick yelled from above them as he lowered an end of rope to them. “Just got a message the ambulance is still twenty minutes out.” Dr. Samuels uttered another word under his breath that she wouldn’t want her two-year-old to hear, or repeat. She announced, “Rick, it’s going to take us a few minutes to get Lewis secured, then on my word I want you to pull. We’ll help from down here.” Seconds later Rick was holding his flashlight over them. “As I lift can you get the rope in position?” Lauren asked Dr. Samuels as she wrapped her arms around Lewis once more. “Yeah.” The doctor wound the rope around Lewis and tied it off. “I’m going up to the door to make sure he doesn’t topple over the side as we pull him out.” She started her climb, but her foot slipped. She fell against Dr. Samuels. His body was hard and his strong hands grabbed her at the waist. “Sorry,” she muttered. “You get a handhold and I’ll help you out,” he ground out. Once she was on the engine hood, Lauren remained on her stomach, twisted around and grabbed the rope. Rick laid the flashlight down and stationed himself behind her. “Okay, on three. One, two, three.” Lauren wrapped her hands around the rope. She pulled with all her might until her muscles burned with the effort. Between her and Rick pulling and Dr. Samuels pushing, Lewis’s head came over the door edge then his shoulders. “Wait. Hold him steady. Let me get hold of him.” Using her legs, she dragged Lewis while Rick pulled and the doctor lifted. Lauren kept working until Lewis almost lay across her, his back to her front. Rick hurried to help her. With Lewis on the engine hood, they rolled him on his side, placed a blanket beside him, and gently positioned him on it before bundling him up and tucking it around him. Cracking all the heating picks she had, she placed them along his side then put another blanket around him. Now they had the chore of lowering him to the ground. Dr. Samuels, with his bag across his shoulders, hoisted himself out of the cab. He must be freezing in his less-than-suitable clothes, but she hadn’t heard a complaint or seen a wince. With Lewis wrapped burrito-style, she grabbed the rope and tied it around his thighs and shoulders. They couldn’t have Lewis slipping out of control. “This isn’t the first time you’ve done this,” Dr. Samuels observed from behind her. “No.” She didn’t slow to look at him. “Rick, you ready?” “Ready.” The doctor grabbed the rope. “What do I need to do?” In the dim light provided by Rick’s flashlight and the running police cruiser headlights she could see Dr. Samuels’ fingers were turning dark. He would need attention as well. But that would have to wait until Lewis was taken care of. “We need to keep the rope taut between us as we lower him so that he remains as level as possible.” He nodded. “On three. One, two, three.” Slowly they lowered Lewis a couple of feet to Rick’s waiting hands. Minutes later Lewis was on the ground and she was climbing off the tractor. She had just reached the pavement when she was bumped. The doctor had slipped. Seconds later they were sprawling entangled in the snow. He was the first to recover. His arms were around her and his face close. “I’m sorry. Are you hurt?” She blinked. “No.” “Good.” He scrambled to his feet. Lauren followed his lead. “We need to get Lewis out of the elements and see where that ambulance is.” He hurried toward Rick, who was untying Lewis. “I have the cruiser running so it’s warm. The back seat is clear,” Rick informed them. As he and Rick carried Lewis around the back of the tractor to the waiting car, Lauren rushed to the far side of the vehicle. Opening the door, she climbed in as Rick laid Lewis’s shoulders on the seat. She placed her arms under Lewis’s armpits and pulled him toward her. As she did so Dr. Samuels helped by pushing from his end. She kept going until the boy lay across the seat. Before she could straighten up, the doctor joined her on her side. “Let’s get a set of vitals on him,” he said with authority. “Rick, could you see to the guy in the truck? The best I could tell, he just has a head wound. I’m not sure how serious. Also, check the ETA on the ambulance.” The doctor was good with issuing orders, but he had stood back when she’d been the one giving them earlier. Hadn’t arrogantly assumed command of the situation as other male doctors might have done. She appreciated his unspoken acceptance of her as his professional equal. Lauren went to the other door, leaving him room to work. Putting down her bag, she removed her stethoscope and blood-pressure cuff. Lewis was so thin there was a chance she could get a reading from his calf. She didn’t want to remove the blankets or his jacket unless absolutely necessary. Instead she pushed at Lewis’s pants leg in an effort to get it beyond his boot top. Succeeding, she placed the cuff around his leg. With relief, she found it just fit. “His heart rate is erratic. It wasn’t when I first checked,” Dr. Samuels said. “BP?” “One forty-three over one hundred and two.” He shook his head. “We’ve got to get him to a hospital. We don’t have time to waste. Can you get a temp while I check on Rick?” “Yes.” He disappeared into the night through the blinding snow. Finding the thermometer, she closed the door to keep the heat in and carefully moved around to Lewis’s head and ran the electronic instrument over his forehead. Ninety-six. The acid taste of panic filled her. Lewis was well on his way to hypothermia. With a grateful heart and elation knowing no bounds, she saw the lights of the ambulance arriving. Dr. Samuels came up behind her. “Go help Rick get the other man here while I report to the EMTs. I may need to ride in with Lewis.” Lauren didn’t miss the concern in his voice or him blowing on his cupped hands. He was in pain as well was her guess. Would he shorten his stay in Last Stop after this adventure? * * * Paxton couldn’t remember the last time, or if there had ever been one, he’d done this much physical activity during patient care. He worked out regularly, but he was going to feel tonight’s exertions in the morning when he tried to get out of bed. The lights of the ambulance had been a happy sight. Rick was helping the other man out of the truck when he left to meet the EMTs. He feared Lewis was going to end up having just as many issues from the prolonged exposure to the elements as he did from the actual accident. When the first EMT approached, he introduced himself and gave a quick report of his examination of the man in the truck, then went into detail about Lewis’s care. The second EMT hurried to them with the gurney. Paxton went around to Lewis’s feet and crawled across the seat as the other two men worked Lewis’s shoulders onto the gurney. Minutes later they had him strapped down. Rick joined them, helping the EMTs get Lewis into the ambulance. As soon as the EMTs had Lewis secured inside, they immediately started working on him. Paxton was told he couldn’t ride in the ambulance. He responded, “Then I’ll see you at the hospital.” He watched the ambulance leave and returned to the cruiser to check on his other patient. Lauren and Rick had sat him in the back seat. “I’m going to follow the ambulance in my car,” he told her. “No, you’re not,” Lauren said in a firm voice that reminded him of his mother refusing him a cookie before dinner when he’d been a child. “I’m going to see about your hands after I get through with Mr. Thompson here. We’ve got to take him to the hospital as well, so Rick is driving.” “I’ll call someone to come get your car. Are the keys in it?” Rick asked. “Yes.” Paxton just experienced another element of culture shock. He’d never have left his keys in his car in Boston, even if he’d been the first medical person on the scene of a bad accident. “Now get in the back seat,” Lauren ordered. “I need to have a look at your hands. You probably have the beginnings of frostbite. Are they numb?” He had no choice but to admit, “Yeah, they are.” “Let me see.” She grabbed a flashlight and shone it on his hands. “Ooh, the tips are already turning white. You should’ve been wearing gloves.” “I have some in my suitcase but didn’t take the time to find them.” “Next time you need to.” She pulled off her gloves and stuffed them in a pocket of her coat before reaching for his hands. “Bend them for me.” He started to argue but with the way he felt and her tone of voice he thought better of it. Doing as she instructed, he was disappointed to find his fingers wouldn’t move. She was right, he had all the signs of frostbite. To be ordered around by someone other than his parents was a new experience. Now that the adrenaline rush was over he was starting to register intense pain. He’d overextended his body in addition to his exposure to the increasingly frigid temperature. He watched as she turned his hands one way then the other. Her fingers were strong and sure, yet tender. She’d pushed back her coat hood. Snowflakes hung like stars in the night sky in her thick dark hair. Even in the shadowy light he could tell she was pretty in a natural, wholesome way. “You might as well do as she says because you won’t win,” the injured man leaned out to say. “He’s right. Get in. We need to get going. I’ll work on your hands in the car,” Lauren said. Paxton climbed in next to the man, welcoming the warmth inside despite the still-open door. He attempted to kick off his shoes, but pain shot up his leg. His toes hurt but with the car heat on they would recover soon. “Let’s go, Rick,” Lauren called to the policeman, who was doing something near the tractor. She closed the door and headed to the other side of the car. Somehow the sound of her soft, slow drawl and unusual tone that could only be native to the region took his mind off his pain. Who was this young woman who lived out in the middle of nowhere? And why did she? After Gabriella’s mistreatment of him, he was surprised that he’d even wonder about a woman, but curiosity about Lauren did keep his mind off his discomfort. Lauren got into the front passenger seat and closed the door. She swiveled in her seat and said, “Give me your hands.” “Again?” “Yeah. I need to start warming them. You are familiar with frostbite care?” she asked, a little irritated note in her voice. “Of course I am.” “Then you know I need to bring the feeling back slowly. I don’t have any more heat packs so I’ll need to hold them between mine. Body heat is the best.” He glanced at the man next to him to see his reaction, but he had his head back and his eyes closed. In a few minutes Paxton would rouse him to make sure he wasn’t unconscious from a concussion, but first... Paxton extended his hands. Lauren took them between her smaller ones and held them but instead of rubbing movements she blew on them. Her gaze met his, held. Her eyes were as black as the sky he’d so often lain under in Africa. Unspoiled, huge and comforting. There was look of caring he’d not seen in a woman’s eyes in a long time. Was he destined to judge every woman by Gabriella? He hoped not. Lauren blinked and the moment was gone. “You were good out there,” he said with true admiration. “Thanks.” She looked pleased with the compliment. Did she not get many of them? “You know, I’m used to being the one who gives the orders.” He watched a slow smile light up her face. “I know. I heard a few of them tonight.” “I think you’re pretty good at them as well.” He knew his grin was more grimace than smile. Rick climbed into the driver’s seat. “Everyone ready?” “Where’re we headed?” Paxton asked when they were riding down the road. “Lippscomb, Oklahoma. Closest hospital. By the way, I’m Lauren Wilson.” She nodded to the driver. “This is Rick Moore. That’s Art Thompson beside you.” “And I’m Dr. Paxton Samuels. Feel free to call me Paxton.” “You’re our new temporary doctor. Tough way to start your month,” she said, giving him a reassuring smile. “I won’t argue with that.” But everything about the last few weeks had been tough as well. She continued to blow and after a few minutes she looked at him. “I forgot to mention that I’m your nurse. So this probably won’t be our last adventure together.” He wasn’t sure if that sounded ominous or inviting, but it was definitely intriguing. CHAPTER TWO (#u6bb431bb-c2e8-5e13-bc47-cebdb8e21573) LAUREN BLINKED AT the bright light coming from the hospital emergency department entrance. The ride hadn’t been the worst one of her life but it had been uncomfortable. She’d spent most of it with her body twisted toward the back and her arms between the seats, holding Paxton’s hands while she blew on them. They were strong, capable hands. She had already learned that. His fingers were long and tapered down to well-manicured nails. They weren’t as soft as she’d expected. Something about them made her think of security. That he could take care of himself and anyone else he cared about. As they’d driven she’d seen him studying her, his face faintly lit by the dashboard lights. Tingles of self-awareness had flickered through her, as though she were a specimen under a microscope. She feared he was analyzing her both in appearance and intelligence, and passing judgment. Did she fall short or measure up? They were to the outskirts of Lippscomb before he said, “You can stop. I have feeling now.” “That’s good but you’re not out of the woods yet. You’ll still require medical attention to make sure there hasn’t been further damage.” She struggled to conceal her relief. Her back hurt and she had become ever more aware of him as a man the longer she’d held his hands. More disturbing were her sharp memories of his body pressed against hers in the cab and when they had been entangled on the ground. Despite the bitter weather and her thick clothing, she’d been conscious of his warmth and his body against hers. Was it because she’d not let a man so close in such a long time? What was this odd reaction she was having to a stranger? Whatever it was she had to put a stop to it. Nothing about it was healthy. Rick had done a good job of driving but the going had been slow. The snow had slackened but the bitter wind had picked up. When Rick stopped at the emergency department door Lauren hurried inside to let the staff know they had arrived. Earlier Rick had radioed ahead, telling the hospital they were on their way. She headed straight for the unit desk, which was draped with garlands and red and gold Christmas balls. The clerk, wearing reindeer antlers, looked up. “Hey, I’m Lauren Wilson from Last Stop. I’ve got two patients in the car. One needs a wheelchair.” Lauren didn’t wait for her response before returning to her patients. Paxton, as she suspected, had climbed out of the car in order to assist their patient. She rushed to him. “I’ll take care of Mr. Thompson. You should be concerned about your hands.” “He’s my responsibility,” Paxton growled through pain she was sure he was trying to hide. “And you’re mine,” she snapped. Glancing behind her, Lauren was pleased to see the unit staff hurrying toward them with a wheelchair. She pointed to Mr. Thompson. “He needs the chair.” Mr. Thompson settled into his chair and Paxton walked into the hospital beside him. She and Rick followed close behind them. When Paxton reached the unit desk he said, “I’m Dr. Paxton Samuels. I need to speak to the attending.” Lauren hurried forward. “I’ll take care of giving report. You’re a patient as of now and you need to worry about having those hands properly tended.” “They’re fine.” “Doctors never make good patients,” she muttered. “I heard that,” Paxton said with a glare. “I’m sure my fingers have recovered.” “I think we need to get a second opinion. Last Stop needs a doctor with good hands.” He gave her a stricken look then nodded. “Okay, but I want to be informed about my patients.” “Not a problem.” “Hey, Lauren,” Henry, a doctor and friend who was wearing a Santa hat on his head, said as he came up the hall toward them. “Hi, Henry.” She gave him a smile. “What do you have for us tonight?” Henry looked at Paxton with curiosity. “You’ve already gotten one of our accident victims, Lewis Williams. Head trauma and hypothermia. We have another head trauma, Art Thompson—” she pointed toward a cubicle where he’d been taken “—in there who needs to be seen.” “I’m Doc—” Paxton tried to butt in. Lauren didn’t slow down. She gestured to Paxton. “This is Dr. Samuels. He’s a possible frostbite case.” Henry told a nurse who had just joined them, “Take him to trauma three and get him started on the frostbite protocol. I’ll see the head trauma you brought in first. Lauren, come with me and tell me what’s going on.” Throughout the brief exchange Paxton looked from her to Henry and back again. He appeared puzzled by their discussion. A couple more times he made noises as if he was going to interrupt but before he could utter anything the unit tech pushed him away. Lauren stowed her outer clothing behind the nurses’ station and joined Henry in Mr. Thompson’s room. He was sitting up and talking to the nurse. Lauren shared what she knew about his case. A few minutes later they were on their way to Paxton’s room. “So, who is this Dr. Samuels?” Henry asked. “Our new temp doctor until we can find someone to permanently replace Dr. Barden. Dr. Samuels was on his way to Last Stop and came up on the accident. He wasn’t well dressed for the occasion. I can’t complain about his care and quick action, though.” She and Henry stepped into Paxton’s cubicle. He was sitting in a chair with his hands in water. “How’s Lewis doing?” he asked before either of them could say anything. “He’s in a room,” Henry stated. “He still hasn’t regained consciousness. We scanned for swelling but saw nothing. It’s just a waiting game now.” “And Mr. Thompson?” “He seems to be recovering. He has a handful of stitches and we’re going to keep him overnight for observation.” Henry stepped closer to Paxton. “Now it’s your turn. I’m Dr. Henry Fields and I understand you’re a doctor as well.” “Dr. Paxton Samuels.” “I hear you’re going to fill in at Last Stop.” “Yeah, if I ever get there,” he said in a grouchy tone. Henry gave a dry chuckle. “I’ve heard of the difficulty. So, tell me, how’re your fingers? Our winters are pretty brutal here.” “Better.” “Good to hear.” Paxton lifted his hands out of the water and flexed his fingers. He looked directly at her. Lauren’s middle fluttered. He had deep green eyes. Green like the plain in the spring. Their new doctor was handsome. “I had good care on the way here.” Henry glanced at her. “I have no doubt you did. I should admit you, but Mr. Thompson took the last bed. The best I can offer you is a spot in the waiting room. You really should have someone checking on you every couple of hours.” Rick stuck his head into the cubicle. “Lauren, I’ve been called out. I’ve got to go. I’ll pick you up in the morning or get someone to come get you.” He raised a hand and was gone. He didn’t even give her a chance to respond. She and Dr. Samuels were stuck in Lippscomb. Paxton’s unnerving eyes met hers. “Isn’t that our ride back to Last Stop?” She nodded. “Yep. I guess we’re staying the night in the waiting room.” “What about that hotel across the street? I saw it as we pulled in. Surely they have rooms.” Paxton was in no mood to sit up all night in a brightly lit public area. Lauren shrugged. “I guess that’ll work. The weather is too bad to ask anyone to come get us.” “He’s—” Henry indicated Paxton “—going to need you to check on him a couple of times during the night. I’m concerned he might spike a fever.” Henry looked at her then at Paxton. “And you, I want you to promise you’ll keep your hands covered for the rest of the winter season. You’ll have trouble again if you’re not careful.” “Thanks. I’m well acquainted with frostbite, as I’m from Boston. We have the cold and snow as well.” “Then you know it’s nothing to mess around with.” Henry wasn’t letting his patient intimidate him. Lauren shook her head in disbelief. Could this evening get any more interesting? “Then we’re going out in the weather again.” She winced. “More fun in the snow.” “It looks like it.” Lauren imagined Paxton’s arrival in Oklahoma was far above and beyond his Bostonian expectations. “How soon can I get out of here?” Paxton asked Henry. “As soon as you’re ready.” Henry made a note on the chart he held. “After you have your hands wrapped. They need to be that way for at least twenty-four hours. I don’t want you using them until tomorrow. I’m going to prescribe you a little something for pain. Call me with any problems.” Paxton didn’t look pleased with that directive but he didn’t argue. “Understood.” Henry nodded to her and Paxton, then left. A few minutes later a nurse wrapped Paxton’s fingers individually in gauze. As soon as she left Paxton said, “I’m ready to go.” He stood and started pulling on his coat. Lauren assisted him with getting his arms into it, then adjusted the weight around his shoulders and buttoned it. The rigid posture of Paxton’s body let her know he wasn’t used to people doing things for him and he didn’t like feeling incapable. She pulled his collar up around his neck. A funny feeling came over her and she looked up to see him intently watching her. Her gaze met his. A pang of awareness ran through her. His hair was still damp and mussed, a large lock of it having fallen over his forehead, giving him an endearing disheveled appeal. He was a good-looking man, not in a glossy magazine manner but in the subtle way of someone who had confidence in who they were and what they wanted. “Can we go now?” he asked with arched eyebrows. Had she been staring at him? She backed away. “I need to get my coat and bag on the way out. I left them at the nurses’ station.” They walked to the unit desk. There she went around to a cubby and gathered her things. “Jane,” she said to the unit clerk, “do you know where we can get some scrubs?” The heavy woman in her mid-twenties said, “Yeah, but I’m really not supposed to hand those out.” “I’ll bring them back, I promise. If I don’t, you can charge me for them.” Jane pursed her lips and gave her a sideways look. “In this case...” She went into the storage room. She soon returned with green scrubs sealed in clear plastic. “Sorry, I only have one set left, in extra-large.” “Okay. We’ll make them work.” Lauren took the package, then turned to Paxton. “You ready for this?” “I’ve been ready,” he grumbled. Apparently he’d had all he wanted for a day. She looked at him. His eyes were bloodshot, underlined by the bruise-like evidence of exhaustion, and his mouth was a tight line. She glanced at his hands all wrapped in white. He deserved to be testy. Pulling on her coat, she zipped it closed and put her bag over her shoulder. The large automatic glass doors opened as they approached. A blast of cold rolled in. Lauren shivered and murmured, “All we have to do now is manage to not slip on the ice.” Paxton grunted and hunched against the wind, putting his hands into his coat pockets. She picked her way down the curved drive to the street while keeping an eye on him. All he needed was to fall. Thankfully the street lights gave off enough light to make visibility good and the snow had slowed to drifting flakes. The motel was straight across the four-lane street from the hospital. They waited for a car to pass then as quickly as possible walked toward the window with the glowing orange neon sign that read “Office.” “How often do you get snowbound with a patient?” Paxton asked. “I’d have to say this is a first.” “I’m not surprised. That’s my life lately. A lot of firsts.” Lauren wasn’t sure what that statement meant but it didn’t sound good by the tone of his voice. Keeping a steady pace, they kept moving. The situation was movie-worthy. They would laugh about this one day. Lippscomb Motel was a nineteen-fifties-style place, where the one-story building formed a horseshoe and the parking was in front of each room. All the slots appeared taken. What were they going to do if there were no rooms? Return to the hospital. She should have thought to call. They had no choice now but to ask. Making it to the entrance first, she opened the glass door, letting him go in ahead of her. The warmth of the lobby greeted them. A bald-headed man wearing a T-shirt despite the weather stood behind a counter with a tiny, sad-looking Christmas tree on it. A TV blared in the background. “Can I help you?” “We need a couple of rooms for the night,” Paxton stated. “Don’t have but one,” the man said off-handedly. Lauren had been afraid of that. The man continued, “The storm has us all full up tonight.” “We’ll take it,” Paxton said before she had a chance to say differently. She pulled her wallet from her bag. “I’ve got this.” Paxton put a card on the counter. Regardless of the circumstances, it didn’t quite sit right with her to have a man she hardly knew pay for their hotel room for the night. Somehow it seemed sleazy. She was a professional taking care of a patient who happened to be a male, she sternly reminded herself. There was nothing immoral about that. It was necessary. A minute later the man returned Paxton’s card and gave her a plastic keyring with the number three on it. “The heat won’t be on, but it shouldn’t take long for it to warm up.” She shuddered at the thought of going back out in the frigid night and to a cold room but she had no choice. Walking under the awning, they made their way to Room Three. Her feet were wet and cold and all she wanted to do was have a hot bath, call Shawn and crawl into bed. She was pretty sure Paxton had a similar desire. Unlocking the door, Lauren pushed it wide and let him enter, then quickly closed the door behind them. It wasn’t much warmer inside than out. She left Paxton in the middle of the room lit only by the porch light coming through the thin curtains. Going to the lamp sitting on the table between two beds, she clicked it on. The room was much as she had expected. The beds were standard size with headboards fixed to the wall and a small, well-worn sofa set against a wall with a cheaply framed picture above it. There was a built-in desk with a chair and beside it a clothes rack attached to the wall, level with her head, to serve as the closet. She was confident it was a major step down from what Paxton must be used to. To his credit, his face didn’t look as disgusted as she expected. It leaned toward pitiful. He’d had a hard first day on the job. Yet he’d been more than efficiently competent under the circumstances. Too bad his tenure at Last Stop would be brief. He sank onto the side of the bed closest to the door. “Let’s get some heat going in here.” She hurried to the wall heater located under the only window. It made a clang when she turned on the fan and cranked the thermostat up as high as it would go. “Hopefully it won’t take too long for it to heat the place.” “That would be nice. I’m starting to fear that I might never be warm again.” “I’ll see if there’s a heater in the bathroom.” Somehow she had assumed personal responsibility for him. He was new to town. She wanted him to appreciate where she lived, to make a good impression. Even though he was only going to stay a short while she didn’t want his time there to leave negative memories. Granted, it had been his choice to come to Oklahoma but still she wished it could have been more welcoming than the last few hours had been. It was a relief to see there was a heater in the bathroom as well. She turned it on high. When she returned to the main part of the room Paxton still sat in the same spot. That could only be an indication of how bad he felt. He looked at her. “Sorry about the room situation but at least you don’t have to get out in the cold to check on me. We’re both adults, I believe we can handle one night together in a hotel room. You needn’t worry. I’m no threat, especially tonight.” She wasn’t as worried about him as she was about making a fool of herself around him. A shiver went up her spine. He was watching her. “I can handle it if you can. Uh...you hungry? I could call for some takeout. There’s a pizza place next door.” “Yeah. I could do with something to eat.” “Pizza do?” “Sure. Anything at this point would be great.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “I’m sorry. This wasn’t an ideal way to start a new job. Not very hospitable of the weather.” “Can’t control that. I’ve been through difficult times. Let’s just say that today was mild compared to some things I’ve dealt with.” She’d had her share of difficult times as well. Like losing a husband. Being a single mother. Maybe Paxton wasn’t as soft as the fine cut of his coat or the brand name of his shoes implied. After the last few hours she suspected that, like his hands, his life had had some rough spots. “I need to make a phone call then I’ll go get that pizza. I’ll just step in the bathroom to talk.” * * * Paxton wasn’t sure exactly when he’d entered this surreal vortex in time and space where his life had gotten completely out of his control, but he had to find a way to take back some degree of it soon. If two weeks ago someone had predicted that he would be in Oklahoma stranded in a motel room with a pretty young woman who turned out to be his office nurse as well as his personal caretaker during a blizzard, he would have called them a quack. He should be on his honeymoon in the Mediterranean. With a cheat. He listened to the soft burr of Lauren’s voice. “Hi, sweetheart. I’m not going to make it home tonight. I’ll see you tomorrow.” There was a pause. “I love you too.” So she had a boyfriend. He noted she hadn’t told the guy she was spending the night with him in a hotel room. Paxton harrumphed. As if he could do anything about it even if he had a chance. All he could think about was getting a hot bath and climbing into bed. The medicine he’d been given made him want to do nothing but sleep. When Gabriella had pulled her final dramatic stunt, he’d never believed it would lead to him having potential frostbite and spending the night in a seedy motel with a woman. He and Gabriella had been an off-and-on couple most of their youth. Their families were close, ran in the same social circle of longtime Bostonians with the correct pedigrees. As adults, it seemed that both sets of parents had expected them to marry. Paxton had cared about Gabriella and had believed she’d felt the same about him. His parents had been encouraging him to marry her for years. For once he had been doing something they blessed. He’d always been a bit of a rebel in their eyes. He’d gone to a West Coast college instead of the Eastern one all the family members had attended. Between college and medical school, he’d secretly applied to the Peace Corps and spent a year helping in a North African medical clinic. His parents had been vocally displeased. They had anticipated he would finish his medical training and join the clinic that held their family name. Many a time he’d seen disapproval on their faces. It wasn’t until he and Gabriella had become engaged that he’d finally felt they were proud of him. Apparently, and most disconcertingly, Gabriella had found him wanting as a potential mate. Lauren emerged from the bathroom, slipping her cell phone into her pants pocket. She definitely caught his interest with her glorious mass of long dark hair, smooth skin with cheeks still rosy from the cold and those dark eyes that were intelligent while at the same time tender and caring. Even with her heavy coat on, he suspected there were nice curves beneath. Lauren’s wholesomeness was appealing after Gabriella’s contrived sophistication. “I’m going to go see about some food now. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Feeling a vulnerability he hated, he had no choice but to ask, “Uh...before you go, could you help me out of these damp clothes?” Her eyes widened and her full-lipped mouth went slack. Where had her thoughts gone? He held up his bandaged hands. “I don’t think I can unbutton my coat. Or my shirt for that matter.” It rubbed him the wrong way to need her help. How did it look? Here he was the new physician in town who was supposed to take care of others and he couldn’t even take care of himself. He wasn’t making a good impression, he was sure. If he wasn’t careful Lauren would be the one people turned to instead of him. Her look had changed from one of surprise to sympathy as she looked at his hands. “I’m sorry. I should’ve thought. Doesn’t make me look like much of a nurse.” “I’d disagree with that. I saw you in action today.” He stood. Lauren appeared small and fragile in front of him but there was strength there, he knew. Her warmth seeped into him as she continued into his personal space. A handful of her hair fell over her face, stirring his awareness further. What did it feel like? Was it as silky as it looked? He inhaled. She smelled of the outdoors. Fresh, clean. Alive. “Well, let’s get your coat off, then I’ll help you with your shirt.” Her fingers worked the buttons of his jacket, opening all of them before pushing it off his shoulders and throwing it on the bed. She hesitated before her hands moved to his shirt. Paxton didn’t miss the tremor in her hands. “This isn’t your first time to undress a ma...uh, patient?” “No. I trained in a big hospital.” A firmness had entered her voice. “Cut a number of patients’ clothes off as well.” Was she reminding him this was strictly business for her? Which it should be. But her hair looked so silky. That wasn’t something he should be thinking. Even if being strangers was keeping them apart he still couldn’t take a chance on being rejected. His self-esteem was battered enough. Besides, they were going to be working together. “I don’t think that will be necessary this time.” Her gaze held a twinkle as it met his for a second before she continued to work the buttons of his shirt. He couldn’t deny his body’s reaction to her standing so close. Whether he knew her or not. He suddenly felt warm all over. From his vantage point her movements were the efficient and functionary ones of a nurse except for the tremor of her hands. At least he wasn’t the only one affected. “I’m sorry you have to do this. It’s embarrassing to be so helpless.” Lauren worked quickly. “Hey, it happens to all of us sometime. It’s just your turn this time.” “That doesn’t mean I have to like it.” She smiled. It was a nice one. “I’d just put it down to this entire evening being unusual.” Her tone turned matter-of-fact. As she finished he said, “Now I’m reaching for a new level of mortification.” Would his male ego survive this? “I hate to say this but I’m going to need help with my pants button as well.” Lauren smiled. “I’ve heard that it’s good for a doctor to be a patient every once in a while. It gives them more empathy for their patients.” “Then I’ll have that in abundance.” His disgust rang loud and true. She freed his pants button. “I think you can handle things from here. And I’m hungry. I’m going after that pizza.” He was hungry too, and on the verge of being turned on. Seconds later a draft of wind brushed over him before the door closed and he was alone. Paxton eyed the bed. He was going to lie down while she was gone. His fingers tingled as if little pins were being pushed into his skin. Maybe if he raised them above his heart they wouldn’t hurt so much. A bath could wait. He finished removing his clothes, leaving them in a pile on the floor. Removing the pants of the scrub set from the package, he pulled them on. Lauren could have the top. He slipped between the cold sheets that made the skin of his bare back ripple. Piling one pillow on top of the other, he placed them above his head before he pulled the covers into place. He raised his hands and rested them on the pillows. He shivered until sleep took him. The only time he’d been warm in the last two weeks had been when Lauren had stood near him. * * * Lauren made her way across the parking lot, grateful for the chilling wind after the hot moments she’d spent with who was in essence her new boss, a stranger. Her credibility as a nurse had never been more in question than when she had been undoing Paxton’s pants. Thoughts that were better left dormant had been projected in 3D, full-color, jumbo size. She’d glanced at Paxton to find a wicked gleam in his jade-colored eyes. Heat rushed to her cheeks at the memory. That had been no patient and nurse moment. It had been about two people attracted to each other on the most basic of human levels. She’d hurried through the process with shaking hands. Even as she’d unbuttoned his shirt her blood had hummed with ultra-sensitive awareness. She had left it hanging open, but not before she’d noticed his chest had a light dusting of hair over well-formed muscles. She forced herself to swallow. It had been too long since she’d been with a man if her overreaction was any indicator. It wasn’t like her not to remain professional in that type of situation. It was a relief to get some fresh air, even if it was still snowing. There hadn’t been a time in her life she could remember when she’d been so affected by a man. Even undressing her husband hadn’t made her hands tremble. She and Paxton hadn’t come anywhere near having sex yet her nerves were still humming as if they had. This instant attraction wasn’t a feeling she was familiar with. Lifting her face to the night sky, Lauren let the few flakes of falling snow settle on her hot skin. Paxton wouldn’t be the last doctor to fill in. He wasn’t going to stay long, and she certainly wasn’t going to let history repeat itself. She’d left town with a man before and she didn’t plan to do that again. With her next relationship, she would know the man long enough to know she could trust him. She deserved fidelity. Shawn needed a stable life. That she would give him. Mark had been a brash young man who had come to town with an oil company. He’d led the team planning to take a number of the wells deeper. She’d been swept off her feet. Before she’d known it, she was married and on her way out of town with him to his next assignment. She’d dreamed of leaving Last Stop all her life and when she’d got the chance she’d been thrilled. She’d happily packed her bags and left with fairy-tale dreams. At first, everything had been great. They’d moved every three to four months and she’d found every new place exciting but increasingly lonely. More than once she’d feared Mark wasn’t being faithful. He’d always assured her that he was but while at a party she had been approached by a woman who’d told her she’d been seeing her husband. Their marriage had gone from bad to worse. Only because they’d moved again and she’d discovered she was pregnant had she stayed. She’d told Mark the morning of the accident she was pregnant and had wanted him to find a job that would let them settle down, so they could work on their marriage and be a family. They’d fought, him stating he wanted no part in her plans. That afternoon he was gone. An explosion on the oil rig had killed him and five others. Lauren had returned to the only place she’d ever really known as home—Last Stop. She’d used Mark’s life insurance money to finish nursing school and had made a home for Shawn and herself. He was her life now. No guy passing through town was ever going to turn her head again. Especially some fancy doctor from Boston. Enough of those thoughts. She had food to get. The pizza place only had a lone young man working. She ordered a large pepperoni pizza and sat down to wait. It had been so long since she’d felt anything for a man. Henry had been asking her out for a couple of months and she had been putting him off. Then in had come a man she knew nothing about and bam! She’d babbled and tingled all over. It just wasn’t right. Yet there was an excitement between them she couldn’t deny. Half an hour later she returned to the hotel room with a pizza box in hand and two cans of drink in a bag. She knocked lightly on the door, giving Paxton a heads-up that she was entering. Digging the key out of her pocket, she opened the door. She pushed inside, expecting to find him watching TV. Instead the chair was empty and Paxton was softly snoring in the bed. Compassion filled her. He must have been exhausted after driving all day, then the adrenaline rush of the accident followed by the dangerous brush with frostbite. Lauren placed the food on the desk before taking the spare blanket off the top of the clothes rack. She spread it over him. He mumbled, shifted and settled again. Picking up the TV remote, she returned to the desk chair with plans to watch a show while she ate. Paxton could have cold pizza. He needed his rest. She finished her food, then picked up the scrub top he’d left lying on the bed. Placing the back of her hand on Paxton’s forehead, she decided he was a little warm but not overly so. After turning the heat down in the room to a more reasonable temperature, she headed to the bathroom. After the wonderful experience of a hot shower, she pulled on the scrub top, thankful it was extra-large and hung far enough down her legs to decently cover her. The idea of sleeping in her damp clothes or, worse, nude made her shudder. After hanging and draping their clothes around the room to dry, she sat on her bed. She’d decided that leaving the light on in the bathroom would make it easy to check on Paxton. Lauren turned off the TV then looked at him sleeping in the next bed. He was resting comfortably. He’d turned on his side but his hands were still above his head. She could only think that they must have hurt. She couldn’t help but feel sympathy for his plight. He looked miserable with his bandaged hands. Taking a pillow from her bed, she raised his head and tucked it beneath before easing him down onto it. Satisfied she hadn’t disturbed his slumber, she adjusted the covers over his shoulders. Switching off the bedside lamp, she got into bed and was soon asleep. A loud moan startled her awake. She jerked around to look at Paxton. He whimpered again, then kicked the covers back, leaving most of his body exposed. The scrub pants rode low on his hips. Climbing out of bed, Lauren reached out to touch his head. Heat surrounded him. Her heart thumped. He had a fever. Grabbing her digital thermometer from her bag, she ran it across his forehead. It read one hundred and three point seven. She’d been afraid this might happen. Hopefully it would be a temporary situation and not require hospitalization. Returning to her bag, she found fever-reducing medicine then went to the bathroom, filled a water glass and returned to Paxton’s bedside. Lauren shook his shoulder. His skin was hot and dry. She bit her bottom lip as anxiety flooded her. This didn’t need to turn into more than a fever. “Paxton.” He groaned but didn’t open his eyes. Конец ознакомительного фрагмента. Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес». Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию (https://www.litres.ru/susan-carlisle/a-daddy-sent-by-santa/?lfrom=688855901) на ЛитРес. Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.