Sheryl Lister

It's Only You


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free to leave now,” she said, depositing the needle in a container affixed to the wall and removing her gloves.

      “Aren’t you off?”

      She turned back to face him. “Yes.”

      He slid from the table. “Then, come on. I’ll walk you to your car.”

      “You don’t have to do that. I’m sure the security guards are waiting to walk me out.”

      A man rushed into the room before Donovan could reply. A doctor, he guessed, judging by the white coat and stethoscope hanging around his neck.

      The man rushed over to Simona and placed his arm around her shoulder, which she promptly shrugged off. “Simona, I heard about what happened. Are you okay?”

      “Fine, Dr. Harris. I was just leaving.”

      “Great. I’ll walk you out.”

      “I got it, doc. I’m sure you need to get back to your patients,” Donovan said, picking up on the obvious tension between the two. “You ready, Simona?”

      “Yes. Thank you, Donovan. Good night, Dr. Harris.”

      The doctor looked ready to explode, and Donovan chuckled inwardly. Placing a hand on the small of her back, he guided Simona out. “Have a good evening, doctor.”

      Neither spoke as they made their way out of the building. A few steps outside, she slowed.

      “Which way is your car?”

      She gestured to the right. “I appreciate you walking me out.”

      “Simona, there’s no way I’d let you walk out here alone. Do you normally get off work this late?” Donovan didn’t see a security guard, and it more than concerned him.

      “No. I get off at seven. Tonight I was covering part of another nurse’s shift because she called in sick.”

      “So, what’s the story on you and the doctor? Are you two dating or something?”

      She angled her head to look up at him and paused before saying, “No, but not for lack of trying on his part.”

      Donovan was secretly elated by that fact.

      She stopped next to a Honda Accord sedan. “Well...um...this is my car. I don’t know how to thank you.”

      “Hey. Don’t worry about it.”

      “And you got hurt. I’m so sorry.”

      “Simona, there is no reason to apologize. It was an accident.”

      She nodded and unlocked the door.

      He reached around and opened it for her. “Do you need me to follow you home?”

      “No, I’ll be fine.” Simona came up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Donovan...for everything. If you ever need anything, let me know.” She lowered herself into the car.

      The warmth of her lips against his cheek sent electricity through his body, and he fought the temptation to turn into the kiss. “Are you working tomorrow?”

      “No. I’m off until Tuesday. Why?”

      “Just concerned. Make sure someone walks out with you, okay?”

      “It won’t be dark when I get off at seven, so there shouldn’t be a problem.”

      “Simona, promise me you won’t come out alone. I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

      She stared up at him with a strange expression, then nodded.

      “Thank you. Good night and take care of yourself.”

      She smiled. “I will. Good night.”

      Donovan closed her door and stepped back. He waited until she started the engine and drove off before heading across the lot to his own car. He unlocked the doors, climbed in and shut the door. Leaning his head back, he closed his eyes as a wave of fatigue hit him. It had been a long day and a crazy night. Sitting upright, he started the car, backed out and drove home.

      Twenty-five minutes later, Donovan turned into his driveway and pulled into the garage. He dragged his weary body out of the car, entered the house through the side door and pressed a wall switch to close the garage door.

      He tossed his keys onto the kitchen counter and reached into the refrigerator for a bottle of water. Unscrewing the cap, he took a long drink and wished it were something stronger. The mail sat piled up on one end of the island where his housekeeper placed it, but he was too tired to bother with it tonight. Instead, he trekked up the stairs to his bedroom, flipped on the nightstand lamp and dropped down on the side of the bed. Helluva night, he mused. He sat a moment longer, then went to shower.

      It took some maneuvering, but he managed to shower, dry off and brush his teeth in a reasonable amount of time. Turning off the bathroom light and bedside lamp, he returned to his bedroom, pulled back the covers and crawled into bed. Donovan glanced over at the clock. It was nearly one in the morning, and he needed to be up and in his office by six thirty. Even though it was a Saturday, he had to take care of some tour logistics for Kaleidoscope’s concert tomorrow night on the East Coast. With any luck, he could take care of everything in less than two hours and be back home and in bed by nine thirty, ten at the latest.

      He moved to a more comfortable position, making sure to keep his left arm free, and closed his eyes. Donovan made a mental note to call his doctor to schedule a follow-up appointment. He was beyond exhausted, but his mind continued to race with thoughts of Simona. True, she was beautiful, but something more appealed to him—her strength and compassion, maybe. Why hadn’t he asked her for her phone number?

      Next time, he thought with a smile.

      Two seconds after Simona entered the house, Eve rushed across the room and grabbed her in a hug.

      “Girl, I was worried out of my mind. It’s going on one o’clock. I was about to call you again. What happened?” Eve released her and frowned.

      Simona walked over to the couch and lowered her weary body down. “I was basically run over by one of the hospital volunteers pushing a coffee cart.”

      “Are you all right?”

      “I’m okay. Just a little shaken, and bruised where the cart hit my hip.”

      Eve sat next to Simona. “If that’s all, what took you so long to get home?”

      “I had to help Donovan. He got hurt.”

      Eve lifted an eyebrow. “Donovan?”

      “Yeah. He’s the guy who came to my rescue. I feel so bad because he got cut and burned in the process.”

      Eve grasped her hand. “Is he hurt bad?”

      Simona shook her head. “He had about a three-inch gash on his forearm that had to be stitched up, and the burn doesn’t look like it’ll be too bad, so he’s okay, thank God. I don’t know what I would’ve done if he’d been hurt seriously. The crazy thing is, even though he was still bleeding and in obvious pain, he was more concerned about having a doctor check me out.”

      “Sounds like a real-life knight in shining armor.”

      “He was—though I really wish he’d had the armor on,” she said absently. Memories of being held in his strong arms replayed in her mind. She should have at least gotten his phone number...to make good on her offer to replace his shirt, of course. His information was in the system, so she could get it that way. But...

      A touch on her hand broke into her musings.

      “Simona,” Eve called.

      “I’m sorry. Did you say something?”