out of the window, although she reserved the right to conjure them back up in her dreams. She stammered, ‘A-and it’s m-my f-fault—because I opened the package?’
His eyes widened. ‘Is that what you think? Why on earth would I blame you, Grace? You only did what anyone would do—you opened the envelope.’
She held out her hands. Her migraine really wasn’t improving. The thirty-minute nap hadn’t helped. The meds hadn’t even touched the edge of her pain. ‘But look at the effect it’s had on the whole department.’
He shook his head. ‘Don’t read too much into my ranting, Grace. I hate that I can’t be out there, doing more. It doesn’t matter who opened that envelope today, the effect was always going to be the same.’
He moved over next to her and lifted an electronic BP cuff from the wall, switching on the monitor with his thumb.
‘What are you doing?’
‘Your migraine isn’t any better, is it?’
She shook her head as he wrapped the cuff around her arm. ‘I’m doing what any good doctor should. I’m checking your BP. Maybe it’s not a migraine. Maybe it’s something else entirely.’
Her stomach gave a little flip. Back to the whole ‘you’ve breathed in a contagion and are going to die’ scenario. She was trying to keep that one from her head right now. If this was a tension headache it was only going to get a whole lot worse.
She felt the cuff inflate, cutting off the circulation to her arm. These darned things always felt as if they overinflated and any minute now her fingers would fall off. After what seemed like for ever it gave a gentle hiss and started to go down.
Donovan’s eyes stayed on the monitor, watching the figures. He leaned over and pulled the cuff free. ‘Perfect. Your blood pressure is fine.’
A few minutes later the food appeared and was placed in the decompression section between the doors. After the obligatory number of minutes the second set of doors hissed open and smell of pepperoni pizza and caramel latte wafted into the room.
Their stomachs grumbled in unison and they both laughed. Donovan opened the pizza box and grabbed a slice. ‘Mmm, delicious. I hadn’t got round to having lunch earlier. I was just about to eat at my desk when someone...’ he gave her the eye ‘...decided to brighten up my day.’
She should be feeling guilty that she’d managed to eat some of her sandwich while Donovan Reid had worked out at the gym. But as his muscled body had proved too much of a distraction, most of her sandwich had ended up in the trash. And the smell surrounding her was just what she needed.
Grace took a long sip of her latte, letting the smooth, sweet caramel hit the spot. It was just the perfect temperature. Someone had obviously had to spend ten minutes walking it back from the coffee house. She took a bite of the muffin. Perfect. ‘Fabulous. I love these. I could eat them all day.’
‘Wouldn’t you get sick of them?’ He was watching her. As if he was curious about her.
‘Are you crazy? Of course I wouldn’t. I limit myself to one a week because there’s about a billion calories in each one.’ She licked some toffee from her finger. ‘But you know what? I love every single one of them.’
He was watching her appreciatively. Apart from being naked in the shower, it was the first time she’d noticed him run his eyes up and down her body, although right now he was focused entirely on her fingers. She tried not to smile.
It hadn’t even crossed her mind that her actions could seem provocative. She’d been too busy enjoying her muffin. But somehow the thought of Donovan Reid having those kinds of thoughts about her was sending shivers down her spine. He’d never even noticed her before. He hadn’t even known her name.
Her gaze met his and he looked away hurriedly. But not before she’d caught the expression in his eyes. One of pure lust. Wow.
He glanced at his watch, cursed and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
‘What’s wrong?’ She looked over at the clock. It was just after six. Chances were they would be stuck in here all night. Was Dr Handsome going to have to break a date?
He took a couple of steps away from her—as if that made any difference in an isolation room. There was no privacy in here.
His voice was deliberately low as he left a message on a machine, ‘Hi, Hannah, sorry I couldn’t catch you. I’ve got a problem at work. I could be here a while. Possibly even overnight.’
She could almost imagine the lithe blonde model of the moment weeping into the salad she was about to miss at her cancelled dinner date. But then things took a strange turn.
‘So, if you don’t mind, could you check on Casey for me? Do what needs to be done? You’ve got the keys to my apartment. Thanks. I’ll be in touch.’
Now Grace was confused. That hadn’t seemed like a broken dinner date. ‘Who’s Casey?’ The words were out before she could stop them. Being confined with Donovan Reid was giving her a confidence that had been missing for a long time.
He shot her a look. Would he tell her it was none of her business? No, he was scrolling through something on his phone. He turned it around. ‘Casey’s my dog. He’s a bit old and temperamental.’
‘Wonder where he gets that from?’ She leaned forward to look at the photo, which had obviously been snapped in a park somewhere, of a black and white terrier-type dog. She looked at Donovan and wrinkled her nose. ‘I didn’t take you for a dog person.’
‘Really? Why not?’ Was he offended?
She shrugged. ‘You’re too intense. Always totally focused on the job. I always imagined you live in one of those sparkling white apartments that you’re hardly ever in. A dog’s a commitment. You just didn’t strike me as a commitment sort of guy.’
He folded him arms across his chest and looked amused. ‘Well, there’s a character assassination if I’ve ever heard one.’
‘What?’ Her heart beat started to quicken. ‘No, I didn’t mean it like that.’
‘Yes, you did. And that’s what I like about you, Grace Barclay, you say what’s on your mind. You don’t spend six hours trying to think of how to word it.’
She let out a little laugh. ‘Okay, guilty as charged. I sometimes speak without thinking.’ She shook her head. ‘But I’d never, ever deliberately offend someone.’ She raised her chin, ‘I happen to think Casey looks like a great little character.’
Donovan wagged his finger at her, ‘Oh, no, don’t ever let him hear you call him little.’
‘He won’t like it?’
‘He definitely won’t like it.’ The atmosphere between them was changing. It was almost as if he was flirting with her. Did Donovan Reid even do that? Maybe she was under the effect of some weird disease and it was playing havoc with her brain cells.
‘Will your dogsitter be able to help out?’
He gave a brief nod. ‘Always. Hannah’s very reliable. She’ll go around as soon as she gets the message and make sure Casey’s walked, fed and watered.’
Her imagination immediately started whipping up pictures of what Hannah looked like. A woman with a key to Donovan’s apartment? But something distracted her. There was a huddle of people outside the glass. But she was far more interested in the conversation that seemed to be happening outside. Six of her colleagues were gesticulating and arguing about something.
‘Donovan...’ She pointed her finger. Her heart sank. Please don’t let them have discovered it was some weird, deadly disease. They were obviously drawing lots to see who would tell them.
Donovan looked over his shoulder and his gaze narrowed. ‘What’s going on?’ He strode over to the glass. ‘Has something happened?’
There