Page 16 of Challenge
“You changed your glasses,” I state, ignoring her question and smiling at her wandering gaze.
“You’re not wearing your gown,” she replies, frowning. “And I have tons of different glasses. I don’t know what I grabbed. It was dark in the on-call room.”
“I’m sorry if I woke you up,” I say, surprising myself by actually caring. I don’t usually do the thoughtful bloke thing, but Indie Porter is a different calibre of woman.
“It’s fine. You’re a VIP and Dr. Prichard told me to check in on you at some point tonight anyway.”
“So do you sleep in those on-call rooms by yourself?” I ask, morbidly curious. If this hospital is anything like the medical shows on the telly, those on-call rooms are nothing short of a brothel.
“No, there were a couple other doctors in there. I’m more concerned about how you’re feeling. Why did you ask me up here?” She grips the iPad against her chest and furrows her brow at me.
I cock my head. “Why do you think I asked you up here?”
Her face drops into one of unimpressed chastisement. “Are you trying to seduce me when you have a serious injury?”
Scoffing, I reply, “‘Course not. That would be mental, right?”
She drops her chin. “Yes. Completely mental, Mr. Harris.”
I let out a soft chuckle at her tone. “Fine then, Doctor, I think I might have insomnia or something.”
Her brows lift. “That sounds like nerves, but I can give you something to help you sleep.” She swipes the iPad awake again.
“I don’t want drugs and it’s not nerves,” I lie, clenching my jaw over her perceptiveness. I decide to quickly flip the tables back on her. “So when I called, you sounded like you were doing more than just sleeping. Are those on-call rooms that comfortable?” I tweak my brows playfully.
She baulks, “I wasn’t doing any of whatever your mind is wandering off to. That is my sleeping voice you heard, which is a miracle in and of itself. The cots are terrible for getting any decent rest. I’ll be lucky if I am able to fall back asleep.”
“So we both have a sleep problem then.” She eyes me warily as my expression turns hopeful. “I think I have the perfect solution.”
She lets out a haughty laugh. “Oh, do tell.”
“It’s simple…You can sleep with me.” I give her a confident nod and prop my hands back behind my head like I just stated the most logical thing all day. “This is practically my own private apartment in here, and I’m concerned for your rest, Indie. You’re not my doctor right now, but you will be tomorrow. I need you in tip-top shape. This is rather noble if you think about it.”
She crosses her arms over her chest and purses her lips off to the side. “Sleeping with you would be highly inappropriate. Not to mention, I could lose out on scrubbing in on your surgery. Maybe even my job.” Even though her words seem resolute, her eyes trail down my chest again.
Christ, she’s worse than blokes are about checking out the opposite sex. I fucking love it.
“There’s a lock on my door,” I volley back.
“The nurses have keys. Besides, you may not be aware but the type of surgery you’re going to have is very rare. This is a huge opportunity for me.”
“No one has to know,” I add.
“I would know. I’m a doctor. You’re a patient. This is madness.” Her stiff posture begins to shift.
“I’m not after anything except some sleep, Indie.” At least for now. Sleep and a distraction is what I need, even if it isn’t the naked kind. Focusing my efforts on this redhead is just what the doctor ordered. Pun intended. “My nerves are shot after today. I can’t quiet my mind. We can talk each other to sleep. It’ll be good for both of us.”
She stops chomping on her lip long enough to say, “The best I can do is sit in here until you fall asleep.”
It’s a small victory, but I’ll take it. “Stay as long as you’d like. The nurse said she wouldn’t bother me again until eight a.m. That nurse was an interesting one, I’d say. Her bedside manner could rival Hitler. And I think her chin mole had its own beard.”
She giggles and my heart races. I’m winning. I’ve always been good at winning.
“Don’t laugh too loud. You don’t want Beardie to overhear,” I state. “You might want to set your alarm just in case you fall asleep,” I offer, attempting to capitalise on her good humour.
She rolls her eyes but makes her way to the chair. I’ve had to use a lot of my charm on this girl, but something tells me she might be worth it.
“Are you sure you don’t want to climb in? My bed is quite nice…VIP and all. And, unlike Beardie, I have great bedside manners.”
