Baby, Drive South Read Online Free PDF Page B

still unexpected. She averted her gaze and said, “It’s okay, Mr. Armstrong.”
    “Don’t take it personally,” he slurred. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been this close to a woman.”
    Nikki pursed her mouth. “I don’t take it ‘personally,’ Mr. Armstrong. It’s simply a physiological reaction.” And even though his erection obviously wasn’t meant for her, she took a moment to note its impressive size out of clinical curiosity.
    If pressed, she’d have to say the man’s sex organ was above average.
    “I’m trying to think of something else,” he said, “but it’s hard—” He stopped. “I mean, it’s difficult to think of something else with all those good-looking women outside.”
    “Keep trying,” she said wryly, then pulled the lead-lined apron she was required to wear while operating the X-ray machine over her head.
    He made a face at the bulky garment. “I never had a woman want to get me alone and then put more clothes on .”
    Nikki rolled her eyes and picked up the hand-held scanner. “Mr. Armstrong, if you keep talking, I’m afraid this is going to be very painful.” Painful for her, but he didn’t have to know that.
    “Porter,” he muttered, but fell quiet.
    Nikki had to smother a smile while she held the scanner close to the skin, then ran it slowly over his foot and leg.
    She hit a button to tell the machine she was finished, then waited while the image appeared on the eight-by-ten-inch black-and-white screen.
    “Is my ankle broken, doc?”
    Nikki studied the X-ray and took her time responding. “The ankle is simply the joint where your leg bones meet your foot bones.” She turned the screen and pointed to the skeletal image. “Looks like the tibia, which is the larger leg bone connected to your foot, is intact. But the smaller bone, the fibula, is broken, and I’m guessing you have some torn ligaments, too.”
    “Can you fix me up?”
    “I can set the bone and apply a cast to your ankle to support it while everything heals. The bone had a clean break, so it should be fine. But the ligaments are less predictable, and your ankle could be dislocated. You really should see an orthopedic surgeon sometime in the next few weeks to make sure it’s healing properly.”
    “How long will I be laid up?”
    “At least six weeks.”
    He frowned. “That long?”
    “More if you have complications.”
    He looked devastated. “Are you sure?”
    She set down the X-ray machine so he could see the screen. “I’m only telling you what I see,” she said, arching her eyebrow. “You’re welcome to get a second opinion.”
    A sheepish expression crossed his face. “Okay, do whatever you need to do, little lady doc.”
    She pulled out a syringe and filled it from a vial.
    “Except give me another shot,” he protested, pushing up on his elbows. “I already feel…loopy.”
    She flicked the syringe. “Trust me, Mr. Armstrong, you don’t want to be awake while I set the bone.”
    “Porter. And I can handle pain.”
    “No doubt,” she said, nodding to his scars. “But there’s no need to be a hero here. Besides, my job will be easier if you’re under.”
    “Okay,” he grumbled.
    “While you’re out, I’ll clean your cuts.” She leaned over his arm and swabbed it with an alcohol pad.
    “You smell nice,” he murmured, his voice husky.
    The remark caught her by surprise, sending a shiver along her shoulders. She forced a little laugh. “I smell like the road I came in on.”
    “You smell good to me.”
    He smelled good to her, too. A mixture of perspiration, sun and a woodsy scent that didn’t come from a bottle. All male.
    She sucked in a breath, then stabbed his arm with the syringe and dispensed all the painkiller, for both their sakes. He relaxed noticeably. Nikki leaned down to hold his eye open to check the pupil.
    The man had a high level of concentrated pigment in the iris—in other words, his were the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.
    “It sure is nice