was a good thing. Today she looked as gorgeous as she had yesterday. But her hair was up in a clip with little strands handing down to tease her face. He had to resist the urge to push some of that mass back behind her ear. Those weren’t the kinds of thoughts he should be having about a new coworker, but he seemed powerless to resist. He cleared his throat. “Not scared off after yesterday and walking into that trauma today?”
“Nope. You?”
“Nah.” His smile was self-deprecating. “I grew up with four sisters, four brothers and twenty-five cousins. I saw more trauma and drama than you’d guess by the time I was twelve.”
“I see. That’s a huge family.” Indeed. Hers had dwindled down to just her mother and herself, with a few cousins in the Mid-West somewhere.
“I’m guessing you didn’t come in here to chat, but need some liquid fortitude to get through the rest of the day Herm has planned for you.” He raised his coffee cup toward her.
“Psychic, too.” She nodded. “I’m impressed by your extensive set of unusual skills.”
Playful and flirtatious, she appealed to his lighter side. Duncan shoved away from the counter and poured her a cup of coffee, then handed it to her. “Additives are over there.” He indicated the powdered creamer and sweetener selection on the counter.
“Sorry, I’m a creamer snob.” She pulled out her own stash of flavored creamer and added it to the mug.
“Good to know.” He grinned.
Rebel noticed that Duncan watched her intently as she prepared her coffee. She wasn’t accustomed to such attention and she was a little uncomfortable with it. She’d spent years avoiding the intimacy of relationships, apart from a very occasional and very brief fling. Right now she wasn’t certain whether she was appreciative of, or offended by, Duncan’s focus.
The silence that hung between them went on for a few seconds too long as she ran out of things to say. Her charm only lasted so long.
“Well, I’d better go before Herm thinks I’ve run off.” She raised her mug. “Thanks.” Dropping her gaze away from him, she headed out to the safety of the unit and the dreariness of orientation.
Rebel sat in a corner of the ER away from the hustle and bustle around her, answering the incessant questions of the computer program. Have you located the fire alarms and fire extinguishers in your area?
She clicked “Yes,” although she was pretty certain she’d just raced by them on the way to the trauma this morning. That counted, didn’t it?
Staff occasionally would give her a wave, but no one stopped to chat. She supposed that was best for the moment. The next three months would give her plenty of time to make friends. These relationships were only temporary, lasting only as long as her assignment, then she moved on, to another hospital, another set of temporary friends, to relive the same life over and over again.
This lifestyle was one she’d chosen after losing most of her family to Huntington’s disease. There had been no hope for her father or three brothers, and they hadn’t even known it. Here, at least, she could save someone once in a while. Like yesterday.
Herm peeked in on her after a few hours. “Had enough yet?”
“Have a barf bag?” Humor in the workplace was a necessity for survival.
“Enough said. Come with me.” Rebel followed him to the nurses’ station and wondered what it was that he had for her to do.
“Am I going to like this job?”
Herm peered at her over his glasses again. A gesture she was coming to associate with him. Kind of like a beloved teacher overlooking his charges.
“Hard to say, but one set of papers is a follow-up from yesterday and then a scavenger hunt.” He handed the papers to her. “The ER is required to follow up on patients to see how successful our efforts have been.”
“I’m not quite getting that.”
“Did the patient survive the first twenty-four hours, any infections, any further injuries as a result of being resuscitated? Those sorts of questions that risk management people love to drool over.”
“Okay, now I’m with you.” She took the paper. It was filled front and back with questions. The flow chart from hell.
“See if you can find these departments without cheating, then you can take lunch. Cafeteria’s pretty good, coffee shop is close by, then come back up here.”
“Got it.”
Rebel didn’t know how, but she knew the instant Duncan approached them. Whether it was his energy, his cologne or some unknown force she was attuned to, she turned slightly, already knowing he would be there. Maybe it was having gone through the situation together yesterday, but she felt a strange connection to him. She was probably imagining things. Men like Duncan didn’t go for women like her. That was for sure. He was too much, too exciting, too dynamic, too over the top for a woman like her.
The same scenario had played out over and over on various travel assignments. Dashing doctor and super-nurse work side by side, saving lives, and one day they discover a new spark that has nothing to do with work and everything to do with the heat crackling between them. She’d seen it dozens of times, but it had never happened to her.
She rolled her shoulders against the twinge of guilt that nestled uncomfortably there. If she was honest with herself, it wasn’t that she hadn’t had opportunities, she’d run from them when someone had wanted to get close to her. Right now, it didn’t matter. Duncan was here to do a job, just like her. It didn’t matter how handsome he was or how much her heart fluttered when she thought of him.
In some dark place deep down inside her, if she was really, really honest, she’d admit that something about Duncan made her want to stop running, to take a chance on a relationship, see if there was a man who could love her despite the problems of her past, someone who would just love her and not worry about the time bomb ticking inside her. Loving someone again who would then reject her because of something inside her would be her worst nightmare.
Looking down into that place scared her. Made her afraid no one would be able to love her the way she needed to be loved. A man like Duncan made her want to take a chance.
“OH—HI, DOC. Maybe you can help, too.” Herm included Duncan in the conversation, and Rebel turned toward him. Yes, he was definitely as handsome in scrubs as he was in street clothing. Possibly more, because scrubs had a way of stripping a person down to their basics—no frills or high-priced clothing to hide behind. From her first encounter with Duncan, she’d concluded he certainly had that. He didn’t skimp on his clothing. Not that she minded. She did admire a sharp-dressed man.
“Sure. What is it?” He stepped a little closer, and Rebel’s senses squealed. Oh, the man was too close for comfort. Though she could talk herself out of engaging in any sort of liaison with him, her senses reacted on their own volition.
Duncan looked at Rebel. She was tall, nearly as tall as he, and he could meet her clear green eyes almost head-on. Curious that she didn’t realize how attractive she was. Maybe she’d been burned, just like him. He gave a mental shake. No one had been burned like him. The arguments, the fights. And then the wreck. That was something he’d never get over. Refocusing, he looked away from Rebel.
“It’s a follow-up on the boy you two rescued yesterday. Within twenty-four hours we need to lay eyes on them.” Herm muttered a few things under his breath. Probably about more documentation. Seemed it was the same situation everywhere in healthcare. Do more with less.
“Sure. I thought about him most of the night.”
“Me, too.” Rebel admitted what had kept her from having a good