When Hearts Collide - By James, Kendra Page 0,33

as she heard Pearce’s engaging laugh. He had tipped his head and was watching her. His voice was soft and rich.

“Are you turning me soft in the head? We’ve never had a dog. Too much trouble. I have enough to deal with taking care of Gracie.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll just add him to my line-up of patients,” Molly assured him.

He sighed deeply. “What can I do, I’m putty in your hands.”

Molly grinned at him, but felt her face redden as thoughts of molding Pearce in her hands took on a whole other connotation.

Chapter 9

It was a good time to make a necessary phone call. Pearce was sleeping, and Molly had a few minutes before his next antibiotic dose. She needed to call Carmen and find out what was happening at Saint Christopher’s. Had they found out who took the Percocet? It wasn’t Molly, but she couldn’t image it being any of the other nurses she worked with, either. Molly slipped into the family room. Her hands shook as she dialed the number.

“Hey, Molly, how are you?” Carmen asked.

“Surviving.”

“We miss you.”

“I miss everybody, too. Is anything happening?”

“No. I’m keeping my eyes and ears open, but nothing yet. Randy is being his usual pompous self, making sure he has us dancing to all his new rules and regulations.”

Molly cringed at hearing her ex-boyfriend’s name.

“Did you talk to a lawyer yet?” Carmen asked.

“I’ve got one looking into it.”

“If I hear something, I’ll let you know,” Carmen promised.

Molly replaced the receiver. Had she made the right decision leaving Hillsborough? Maybe she should have stayed and fought the suspension, instead of running away and leaving it to a lawyer she barely knew. Too late, though. She’d already committed to taking care of Gracie, and now Pearce.

She glanced at her watch. It was time for Pearce’s antibiotic. Molly crossed the hall to the office and approached the bed where Pearce lay snoring softly. His hair had grown during his illness, and soft tendrils curled at his nape and spread across his forehead, reminding her of a shaggy Bouvier.

Molly had a sudden urge to stretch out her hand and brush away the errant black strands that veiled his eyebrows. Resisting, she crossed to the table where her medical supplies were stored. Molly, what are you thinking? This man is your patient. Adding sterile water to the vial, she shook it until all the particles dissolved, then injected it into the mini intravenous bag.

Would she be able to run it without disturbing him? He’d been having pain, and she’d given him something for it so he didn’t have another restless night. The intravenous lock in his left hand was covered with a blanket. Easing back the cover, she exposed the lock. She was connecting the intravenous tubing when his eyes flickered open. It took him a few seconds to get his bearings, then his lips curved into a smile. “Molly, my guardian angel.” His hand reached out and touched hers.

Her shoulders stiffened at the contact, but her heart began to beat erratically. Her skin burned, and a thousand tiny electric shocks radiated up her arm. He smiled up at her, unnerving her with the sudden flash of heat in his eyes. She secured the intravenous line before turning away. She didn’t want him to see the flush burning her cheeks.

“You need to go back to sleep.” She tried to keep her voice professional.

“I will. Perchance to dreams of angels.”

Molly started at his words, but when she looked back at him, his eyes were already closed. Crossing to the sideboard, she gathered her supplies for his next dose of antibiotics. Her fingers trembled, and she found it hard to concentrate as her mind kept recalling the potency of his gaze and his dreamily spoken words. She needed to focus on what she was doing instead of letting her emotions run wild.

She should race out of the room, away from this man, away from the feelings he roused in her. But she was trapped. She had to wait for the antibiotic to finish infusing. Then she could sprint out of this house as fast as her feet could carry her. But she knew they would bring her back before the next dose was due.

Molly answered Doctor Graham’s knock on the front door.

“Hello, Molly. How’s our patient this morning?”

“He’s been doing his physiotherapy and is getting more sensation back in his foot and toes.” Molly led him toward the converted office.

“That’s wonderful. He’s doing much better than I anticipated. He may