by Lily Harlem
An archway led to what I guessed was the shower area.
It appeared one shower was leaking, the water splashing intermittently onto the tiled floor.
I walked past the table, my soft shoes silent, toward the shower area. I’d turn the water off—I had a thing about wasting it.
With my hand on the side of the arch, I paused.
My heart skipped a beat, and my breath caught in my throat.
Standing naked, beneath the spray of water was Nathan ‘The Flash’ Walker.
He held his face, eyes closed, to the showerhead and had had his hands in his hair as if scraping it back from his forehead. The water ran from his chin onto his neck, then down his chest and over the dark patch of hair sitting at his sternum. His wide shoulders sparkled from the spray bouncing off his golden flesh, as did the defined muscles in his abdomen.
I swallowed as a flood of adrenaline surged into my system. I’d seen many naked bodies in my line of work, but it wasn’t often I saw a perfect one.
And Nathan ‘The Flash’ Walker was one hundred percent perfect.
His cock was flaccid and hung a little to the left, his thighs solid chunks of muscle that tapered to his knees. The same dark body hair on his chest also covered his lower legs.
Get out of here.
That thought blasted into my mind at the exact moment Nathan Walker lowered his hands to his sides and opened his eyes.
He stared straight at me. Again.
For a moment, surprise crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced with something unnervingly like amusement. “Hey.”
“I’m…sorry. I was looking for you and…” I turned away but kept my hand on the archway.
“You found me.” His deep voice seemed to rattle around the tiled walls.
“I need to”—I closed my eyes and tipped my chin—“check you over.”
“I think you just did that, sweatpea.” He laughed.
I threw him a quick frown but was once again struck with the sight of his big body, now being rapidly covered in soapy suds. They’d collected in his chest hair and were running over his abdomen toward his cock.
“Come and have at it,” he said. “I’m all yours.”
“I prefer not to conduct medical examinations in shower cubicles.” I stepped back into the locker room so I wouldn’t be tempted to look at him again. “I’ll wait here for you.”
“Suit yourself,” he called. “Though if you change your mind and wanna come in here and scrub my back, I won’t be complaining.”
I didn’t think his comment dignified a reply, so I dumped my bag on a bench and flicked the clasp open. Rooting around for my eye torch—an engraved one which was a gift from my parents—and reflex hammer, I tried to ignore the sound of the Christmas song Nathan had started singing and was echoing around the locker roomit was the same awful one which had been thumping out at the rink.
I checked my watch. All I wanted was bed. Hopefully he’d hurry up. Just because he could likely spend tomorrow lounging around in a hot tub or sauna, recovering from his late night, didn’t mean I could; I had a triple bypass to perform.
Within a minute the shower water had turned off and he’d stopped singing. The silence was almost worse than the song as I waited for him to appear.
Please don’t be naked.
If he was, I wasn’t sure how I’d stop my gaze drifting down his body. He might be a cocky hockey player, but he could also model for sculptures recreating Adonis.
“Hey,” he said, strolling through the archway with a white towel wrapped around his waist. He was rubbing his hair with another.
Relieved, I straightened and pulled in a breath, the air was laced with steam and the scent of soap. “If you could sit down, I’ll perform a few tests. It won’t take long.”
“Take as long as you want.” He flung the towel he was holding into a plastic receptacle already overflowing, then sat. His legs were set wide apart, and he hitched up the towel covering his thighs.
I dared a quick glance as I stepped up to him and was relieved he hadn’t exposed himself. He’d simply needed space to accommodate his bulky muscles.
“How are you feeling?” I flicked on the torch and shined the small bright dot onto my palm.
“Pretty damn good, to be honest.” He grinned.
“No headache? Blurred vision? Nausea?”
“Hell no, just keen to get to my teammates and celebrate. Wanna come?”
“No, thank you.” I placed my palm on his forehead to keep him still while I examined him. He skin was damp from the shower, and the few strands of dark hair beneath my hand were soft. “Look straight ahead.”
“I can’t look at you?”
“Straight ahead please.”
He turned, and I had to step between his legs to get close enough to do a proper eye exam. His pupils were equal and reacting to light, which was a good start. But I needed a visual on the back of the eyeball to rule out subtle damage.
As I studied the rear of his right eye, I was aware of his breathing and of his exhale becoming my inhale. Heat radiated from his flesh, and the towel brushed my legs. I was so close to him, as I needed to be, but with him wearing only a towel it somehow felt incredibly intimate.
“That one is fine,” I said, switching to the other eye.
“What are you searching for?” he asked. “Checking a dumb jock like me has a brain?”
“I’m sure you have a brain.” Again I leaned close and shined the light onto the back of his right eye, emphasizing all the tiny red vessels there.
He chuckled, and his legs squeezed a little more. “But you think I’m a dumb jock, right?”
“Not at all.” I straightened, satisfied all was in order. “It’s clear you’re a very talented hockey player.”
“Thank you.”
His legs were still touching the outer curve of mine. Solid and strong, it wasn’t unpleasant.
“I was hoping to impress you,” he said.
“And why is that?”
“You came to my rescue.” He set one hand on my waist, gently, and leaned close again. “When I hit the ice, it was you who was there when I came round.”
Warmth from his palm penetrated my clothes and onto my skin. I stared at his handsome face, his cute smile, and then his stunning eyes I’d just been up close and personal with.
“It’s my job,” I managed.
“I get that, but still…you’re prettier than our usual medic.”
“Your usual medic is my brother.” I flicked off my torch and stepped away. “Twin brother.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Ben is your twin?”
“Yes.” I set the torch on the table and picked up the reflex hammer. “And because he’s on his honeymoon in”
“South Africa, with Lisa. It was a bummer I couldn’t make their wedding. I hope they’re having an awesome time on safari. Have you heard from them?”
I was surprised how much he knew about Ben. “Er, yes, not long ago. They’re having a great time.”
“Good, they deserve it. Hey!”
“Keep still.” I tapped his knee again.
He chuckled. “Now what are you doing?”
“Just checking…” I didn’t bother to explain; instead, I quickly checked his opposite patellar reflex. They were both fine.
“And you don’t have a headache?”
“Nope. No headache.” He stood, unfolding to his full height and towered over me.
I looked from the hollow of his throat up at his face. “Any odd symptoms?” Why had the question sounded silly when I’d asked it a thousand times to a thousand different patients?
“Sweetpea.” He set his hands on his hips, just over the roll of the towel. “Not that I’m complaining about your thoroughness, but do I look as if there’s anything wrong with me?”
I dipped my gaze. His broad bare chest was only inches from mine. My nipples tightened, and a sudden image of being naked and pressed against him filled my mind.
A fl
ush of heat spread over my cheeks, and a little fizz of anticipation traveled up my spine.
What are you doing?
“No, Mr. Walker, you appear in excellent health.” I stepped away and dropped the reflex hammer into my bag. “Though any visual disturbances, headache, or nausea in the next few days should be checked out.”
“I can do that, but I have another idea.”
“What’s that?” I snapped my bag shut and turned to him.
I caught my breath, surprised by how close he was. He’d moved quickly across the room.
“You could be my personal medic. Stick with me and I’ll keep you informed of how I’m feeling on a minute to minute basis.”
I raised my eyebrows, wondering what line he was going to come out with next.
His sensual mouth curved into a smile. “Like literally, I’d tell you anything that crosses my mind.”
“I’m not sure I’d want to know.”
He laughed. “Seriously, how about that drink upstairs? It’ll be a good atmosphere.” He paused. “And it is Christmas.”
“It’s not Christmas yet, and I have to be at the hospital early in the morning. I need to get home.”
“Ah, the old ‘early start’ excuse.”
“It’s not an excuse. I have to be in surgery at eight a.m. to perform a triple heart bypass on a forty-one-year-old who’s had a bunch of bad luck with his coronary arteries.”
“Damn.” He scraped his hand through his hair, exposing dark underarm tufts. “That’s rough.”
“It is, but hopefully I’ll be able to stop life being quite so rough for him in the future.” I stepped away. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Walker.”
“Nathan. Call me Nathan.”
I paused and glanced over my shoulder.
He was looking at my ass.
“Goodnight, Mr. Walker.”
Chapter Three
“Dr. Delaney, you’ve had a delivery.” My PA, Nicola, stood from behind her desk as I arrived at the surgical office suite.
“I have?” Snapping the facemask from my neck, I tapped the bin with my toe and dropped it under the lid. “Thanks for coming in today, by the way, I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. Saturday’s are all about sport in our family, so I’m happy to leave the boys to it.”
“It’s a great help. The admin seems to be overflowing lately.” I paused. “Is the delivery the medical research papers I’ve been waiting for?”
“No.” She shook her head. “Definitely not research papers. Something else.” She grinned.
“What then?” I wasn’t in the mood for guessing games. I’d spent six hours repairing a heart that had been stubborn about restarting, pushing even my normally unwavering nerves to breaking point. Finally it had, though, and the new vessels had filled well, the cardiac wall pinking up and beating strong.
“Go and look.” She rubbed her hands together.
I didn’t reply; instead, I strode into my office, my mind full of all the things I had to do.
I was still wearing scrubs but I was hot, so the cool air-conditioning was welcome and I’d been looking forward to it. What I hadn’t expected was a huge bunch of white orchids amongst long black fronds on the middle of my desk. The display was so big it was blocking out the view of the Orlando skyline through the window and had completely hidden my leather chair—a birthday present from Ben. “What the…?”
“Aren’t they gorgeous?” Nicola was at my side. “Came about an hour ago.”
“Who from?”
“I don’t know. I’m your PA, it’s not my place to open small silver envelopes arriving with flowers…at least not flowers like that!”
“Envelope?” I spotted the card with the flowers. It stuck upward on a stick. Plucking it off, I quickly opened it. “Probably a grateful patient.”
“A rich patient.” Nicola was at my shoulder.
“Is there such a thing after the medical bills from here?”
“True.”
I pulled out the card.
You missed a good party last night, sweetpea.
Call me. We’ll have our own.
897657648876
Nathan W.
I re-read it, then read it again. The nerve of the man!
We’ll have our own.
“Nathan W?” Nicola said, looking over my shoulder then pretending to be interested in straightening a stem. “Who’s that then?”
“It’s a guy from last night, at the hockey game I covered for Ben.”
“In the crowd?”
“No, one of the players.”
“Nathan W…” She rose her eyebrows, and her mouth fell open for a moment. “Nathan Walker. The Flash. Damn, he’s hot, girl!”
I laughed at her slip from normal professionalism. “He banged his head. I had to check him out.”
“I hope you did more than feel his skull.” Her cheeks turned crimson. “I’m sorry…that was out of line.”
I laughed. “Don’t worry about it.” The moment of humor was a relief in an otherwise fraught day. “He was fine as it happened. But…”
“But you made an impression on him. And let me tell you, there’s uglier guys in the league to make an impression on.”
“That might be the case. But to quote my brother, he’s trouble.”
“Yeah, red-hot trouble.” She grinned and squeezed my forearm. “And not likely to give up until you call that number.”
“As if I have the time.”
“Sophie…” She paused. Normally she’d call me Doctor Delaney. “It’s good to have a bit of fun after a long day. You know, de-stress.”
“Are you suggesting I try de-stressing with a hockey player?”
She hesitated, then pulled in a deep breath. “Yes, maybe I am, if that’s not too out of line.” She gestured to the door. “I have to get on with those out-patient letters.”
“Yes, of course.”
Left alone, I stroked over the petals of one of the orchids. It was the purest white and so soft I could barely feel it against my skin. They really were the most beautiful flowers I’d ever seen and definitely the most expensive. But then they were from an NHL player—Nathan Walker was hardly short of bucks.
I sat at my desk and dragged over a file of notes. After picking up my pen, I sighed and started my next pile of work.
Soon my head was full of patient details, diagnoses, and treatment. I answered two phone calls. Nicola brought in a coffee, which I drank, and she then removed the empty cup.
Lost in a paper about a new material for heart valves, I was suddenly disturbed by a deep voice outside my office. I looked up as the door opened.
Nicola stepped in wearing an expression I couldn’t quite read. “Dr. Delaney, there’s someone here to see you.”
A big hand curled over her shoulder, and a huge bulk of a man moved in behind her. “Thanks, hon, I’ll take it from here.”
Nathan Walker.
What’s he doing here?
I set down my pen and stared past the flowers at him.
He wore a black polo and faded denims, and his hair, dry now, hung in soft strands over his brow, ears, and down his neck. He was grinning as he removed his shades, folded them, then tucked them into the neckline of his shirt.
“Er, okay, Mr. Walker.” Nicola looked up at him and wrung her hands.
Nathan flashed her a devilish smile and held the door open.
When she’d stepped through it, he closed it with a soft click.
“Can I help you?” I asked, standing.
“Ah, they arrived.” He gestured to the flowers. “Do you like them?”
“Yes, they’re beautiful, thank you. You didn’t need to.”
“Sure I did. I made you stay late last night, when you had important work today.”
“Well, yes, I guess you did do that.”
“You read the card?”
“Of course.”
He pulled out his phone and made a show of checking the screen then flashing it my
way. “Only I haven’t had a call from you.”
“I’m working.”
“But you would have called later, yeah, when you’d finished? Although by rights, most people have finished by this time of day.”
“I’m not most people.”
“I know that, it’s why I sent you flowers, sweetpea.”
“It’s Dr. Delaney, actually, not sweetpea.”
He walked to the window and looked out.
Unable to help myself, I found my attention drawn to his butt. Of course, having seen him in all his naked glory, I could easily conjure the image of his body again, but his ass, I hadn’t had the pleasure of studying. It was high, a little round, and his jeans a fraction loose, which just piqued my curiosity all the more. Was the skin there golden like the rest of him, or lighter due to the lack of sun?
“Great view,” he said.
“Thank you. I like it.” I drew my gaze from his ass.
He turned with his hands shoved into his pockets, dragging on his pants a little. “How did the triple bypass go?”
I was surprised he’d remembered. “It was nerve-wracking for a while, but he should make a good recovery.”
“And he’s being looked after here?”
“Yes, in intensive care.”
“And they’ll call you if there’s any change in his condition?”
“Of course. If any of my patients have issues my immediate team can’t handle, I get a call.”
“Good, that means you’ll be able to come for a drink with me without worrying. There’s a nice little bar on the other side of the lot.”
Go for a drink with him?
“I have work to do and I don’t drink.”
“Ah, come on, it’s Saturday, and they serve cola.”
“I’m sorry, but no.” I moved toward the door. He needed to go before I started having thoughts of being naked with him again. “Thank you for the flowers, they’re beautiful, but—”
“Don’t brush me off.” He was suddenly right in front of me, huge and looming.
He stepped closer still, filling my vision.
I backed away. My shoulders hit the wall, and I looked up at him. Once again, the blueness of his eyes stole my breath. “What are you doing?” I did my best to sound stern, but the truth was I’d had a hit of his delicately spiced aftershave and it had traveled up my nose and laced my tongue, making me wonder what he’d be like to kiss, lick, suck…