Susan Carlisle

Snowbound with Dr Delectable


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door to the clinic closed behind them, Baylie turned to Kyle. “You didn’t tell me you were a doctor.”

      “Does it matter?”

      “Yes. I would’ve made it clear that you make no decisions regarding injuries without my approval.”

      “So this is a territorial thing?”

      Baylie’s hands went to her hips. “That has nothing to do with it.”

      “Then what’s the problem? I saw the girl being hit and went to help. It wasn’t more than I am qualified to handle by the American Medical Association.”

      “I’m sure it wasn’t, but at this resort I make those calls. If an injured person isn’t cared for in the proper way there could be problems.”

      “I understand. My apologies,” he said in a flat tone.

      Did he think she was overreacting? “The resort can be liable. Now you should understand why I was so concerned about you going through an orientation.”

      “Again, I agree.” This time he sounded as if he meant it.

      She’d give him the benefit of the doubt. “You’re going to need to fill out a report as you were the one who brought Cassie in. I’ll log it in the book.”

      Kyle moaned. “You mean even at a ski resort there’s still paperwork?”

      “’Fraid so.” Baylie took perverse pleasure in him getting what he deserved for being so high-handed. She stepped over to a desk and turned on the computer. “Better now than later. You won’t like doing it at closing time.”

      “If you insist.”

      “I do.” Baylie logged onto the computer and pulled up the page he needed. She stood, letting him have the chair.

      Even in heavy ski boots there was a grace, an athleticism in his movements, where others moved like bad renditions of an ostrich. It was as if he was at ease. His square jaw was already showing a midmorning shadow. Some men grew beards against the cold, but it would be a shame to cover up that strong chin or surround his expressive mouth with hair.

      What had got into her? She wasn’t some snow bunny out for an après-ski fling. In fact, she couldn’t face another relationship. Losing Ben had been far too hard. She wasn’t ready to be involved with another man—not that this one was offering. The memory of Ben was still too sharp. Hurt too much. she wouldn’t give her heart again so easily.

      She and Ben had been in the same company. He had been the captain, she the medic. They had known they could be in big trouble for fraternizing, but neither had seemed to let that matter. The patrol had been routine as they had been in a friendly section of Iraq. But the words “routine” and “friendly” had different meanings for her now. It had happened so fast. An IED had hit them. She had been thrown out of the vehicle, the hot burn from shrapnel in her side, and Ben had been dying beside her. She bit her lip to keep a moan of agony from escaping.

      “Done,” Kyle said, rolling back in the chair after clicking a key with a flourish. “I hate paperwork.” The wheel of his chair hit the leg of the empty steel surgery stand and it went down with a bang and clash.

      Baylie jumped, screamed and went into the brace position. Her heart shifted into overdrive and sweat beaded along her upper lip.

      Kyle chuckled in embarrassment and quickly stood. He moved toward the fallen stand but jerked to a stop when he saw her. “Baylie, what’s wrong?” His eyes scanned the area. “Are you hurt?”

      She straightened but didn’t meet his eyes. Brushing past him, she righted the table.

      The loud shushing of static on both their radios brought an ocean of relief when it asked, “Baylie, is someone assigned to watch the slope while I get a bite to eat?”

      Mustering control over her voice she’d never imagined she possessed, Baylie pushed the button and replied, “I’m on my way.” She clipped the radio on her hip. Still avoiding Kyle’s gaze, she said, “We’d better get back to work.”

      She glanced at him and found him still studying her. Baylie hauled on her jacket as quickly as possible. If she hurried maybe he wouldn’t ask any more questions. Tugging on her knit cap, she pushed open the door to the outside. Kyle was right behind her.

      As if he knew not to question what had just happened, he asked instead, “So what kind of medical training do you have to have to run the courtesy patrol?”

      “I’m an emergency medical technician.”

      “Really? That’s all?”

      Was that a snarl of contempt in his voice?

      “Yes, really.”

      “I would’ve expected the leadership position to require at least a doctor’s degree at a resort this large.”

      Maybe it should, but management had hired her, and she had received positive feedback for her efforts so far. Her hand stopped in midair as she reached for her skis. Through narrowed eyes she pierced him with a look that she hoped screamed that he’d gone to the bottom of the garbage can in her estimation. “I also have advanced training in mountain rescue. I assure you, I’m more than qualified.”

      Still that too familiar sick feeling lingered. She’d known what to do when Ben had been hurt, she just hadn’t been able to reach him. No matter how good her training, it hadn’t been enough. She’d let him down—but she intended to honor his memory.

      “I’ll make my own judgment.”

      Baylie took a step forward, her eyes darkening. “Are you always this rude and self-righteous when you meet people or have you just picked me out as someone special?” She inhaled sharply and let it out in a huff. “You know, I don’t care. I don’t have to prove myself to a pompous MD. I don’t have time for this conversation.” She snatched her skis from the rack. “John’s waiting for you so he can have lunch,” she said, and stalked off.

      Of all the arrogant, opinionated men she’d ever met Dr. Kyle Campbell was the worst. And that was saying something. She’d worked with doctors in the army, had been out on patrol with adrenaline junkies in Iraq and she wasn’t impressed. She’d had all she could take of “I’m the man” and “I’m the best” in the military. But this doctor beat them all. Even the cold air didn’t dampen the fire of ire burning through her. When this guy’s two days were up she was going to send him on his way and say good riddance.

      She slipped off the lip of a double-diamond trail and made quick, sharp S-turns down the slope. The wind burned her face as she rapidly crossed the trail. Her skis hit an icy spot and she had to concentrate to correct herself. The man had annoyed her enough that she was skiing recklessly. Digging in the edge of her ski, she pulled to a jarring stop on the side of the slope.

      Panting miniature clouds of steam, with her heart racing, she looked out over the white run and up to the snow-kissed trees against the sapphire sky. The sun had pushed the gray clouds away. She lifted her face to the warmth and inhaled the crisp air. The mountains of West Virginia never failed to soothe her spirit. That was why she’d returned. To hide, and to survive.

       CHAPTER TWO

      A BITTER TASTE had filled Kyle’s mouth when Baylie had stated proudly she was an EMT. Just when he had been starting to find the woman interesting. Emergency medical techs had their place. In his line of work, Kyle had to work with them. But in his personal experience an EMT with a know-it-all attitude could be dangerous. Like that guy who’d treated him when he’d fallen.

      Baylie seemed to be on the same plane. She had to be in control. She had to make the call herself, even when others were equally qualified.

      A stab of pain went through him at the memory of his accident. It had been perfect skiing conditions. Great snowfall the night before, clear sky and bright