Page 130 of Healing the Heart

She moved her hand from his chest to his bearded cheek. “You work too hard, sir. Between Rossi and your practice and SVI, you’re spread much too thin. Not to seem selfish, but you have a demanding fiancée who will want you to squeeze in time for her more often than not.”

“I’m way ahead of you, pet. A surgeon in my practice is taking my place in the SVI rotation beginning next month.”

“Oh.”

He propped on an elbow to look down at her. “Oh? That’s all I get? You’ll have me in LA full-time. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to be selfish and deprive children who need your skills. Is the other surgeon as good as you?”

“He’ll get the job done. He had the same training I did and completed his surgical fellowship under me. If he wasn’t skilled, I wouldn’t have recommended him.”

“Of course. It was silly of me to think it.”

“Not silly. It was a valid concern. My kitten has a big heart, especially where kids are concerned.”

“You’ll be home every night.” Liking the thought of that, she beamed up at him. “That makes me a very contented kitty. And it will be so much easier planning the wedding.”

“Tell me when and where, and I’ll be there in a tux. Just make sure it’s a done deal by the end of the year.”

Her head popped up. “That’s only six months away? Why?”

“Because I want babies with you. If we put it off too long, I’ll be fifty, and people will mistake me for their grandfather.”

“You’ve got eight years before you turn fifty. Besides, you look and act a decade younger than you are,” she scoffed. “I was hoping for an April wedding. Can we stretch your deadline to the spring of next year?”

“Yes, but no longer,” he insisted around a yawn. “Come to think of it, ten months is good. It gives me plenty of alone time with my kitten.”

His voice trailed off and, this time, she knew he slept. When a knock echoed loudly through the room, he jerked awake, and she wanted to pummel whoever was at the door.

“Time’s up, Doc,” a man called through the door. “The staff need to clean up before the next reservation.”

“That’s Axyl,” Noah grumbled as he threw his legs over the side of the bed. “Get dressed fast. He’s on DM duty, and he’ll be in here carrying us out if we don’t move it.”

He wasn’t wrong. She had barely wiggled into her dress when the door swung inward. Axyl smiled when he saw her. “, darlin’,”he said in his Texas drawl. “If we don’t run on time, the patrons get grouchy.”

“I understand, Master Axyl,” she replied, moving with Noah as he guided her to the door with his hand on her lower back.

“Eric needs to add more rooms,” he grumbled. “For the amount we pay, we shouldn’t have to rush.”

“I don’t disagree,” Axyl replied, waving the cleaning staff in and following her and Noah out. “But you can tell him yourself at the master’s meeting the first of the month.”

“What? You’re becoming a club master?” Fiona asked, both surprised and pleased. He should have had the title long ago with his expertise and experience.

“No. I’m not.”

“Once again,” Axyl informed her, “he has been put up for nomination. It’s the fifth time in as many years. You might as well throw in the towel, Doc. Everyone knows you’re ending your contract with Have Scalpels Will Travel.”

“Surgical Volunteers International,” Noah corrected him.

“Isn’t that what I said?” he asked, winking at Fiona. “Anyway. Try telling Eric no. This time you don’t have an excuse.”

As they moved down the hall, arm in arm and side by side with Axyl, she glanced up at him in question. “Why don’t you want to be a club master? You’d be good at it.”

“I’ve just freed up time to be with you, pet. Now you want me to take on DM rotations, demonstrations, new member committee meetings, and the advisory board?”

She couldn’t keep from thinking of the first time she saw him, high above the main floor, all muscle and gleaming skin. “What kind of demonstrations?”

“Whatever the membership needs,” Axyl answered for him. “And he’ll need a lovely assistant.”

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