Girl Gone Nova Read Online Free PDF Page B

result. “Where did you say I need to go?”
    Doc had some experience with blast injuries so semi-autopilot was possible despite her fatigue. It was also not that dangerous to her patients, since she was being given the lower-tier patients.
    Simmons paused in mid-point. “Shouldn’t you get dressed, ma’am?”
    Doc had used part of her curtailed break for a two-minute shower, which hadn’t helped as much as she’d hoped. She looked down at her tee shirt and military issue drawers, exposed by the open bathrobe robe.
    “It’s laundry day. I’m out of ABUs, and I don’t have scrubs.” Scrubs weren’t issued to diplomats, even diplomats who were doctors. She pulled the sides together and loosely knotted the ties, staring down at her bare feet without a sense of recognition. She needed to get tired like this more often. They were just a whimper in the distance.
    “I’ll see if I can scare something up for you. And put someone on your laundry problem.”
    Doc blinked. “Thank you.”
    After another period of inactivity on Doc’s part, Simmons pointed toward a partially opened doorway.
    “In there, ma’am. Your patient?” She held out a medical file.
    “Right.” Doc flipped it open, registering the details as she made her feet move toward the opening. The patient had been thrown by the blast, but lacked the telltale “butterfly” pattern in his chest x-ray that would indicate blast lung, a good thing, since it was usually fatal. No sign yet of abdominal or brain injuries, though he was being monitored for mild concussion and possible tertiary injury. Sutures required on various lacerations. No sign of infection. Vitals good.
    Doc shrugged on her doctor façade and repeated in her head, “You’re doing as well as can be expected.” Didn’t stumble over the words, but she hadn’t tried the sentence out loud yet. Good thing she could talk the talk with her eyes closed. Now all she needed to do was walk the walk. Though better to do both with her eyes open. A sleepwalking doctor didn’t inspire confidence. She straightened her shoulders, shook her head to clear it—that just made the hallway do a one-eighty—and pushed the door wide enough to allow her to pass through it.
    “Hello.” The generic greeting was necessary, since she didn’t know what part of the day it was. “I’m…”
    She was halfway to the bed when she realized the patient was “her” guy from the reception. She felt a tsunami of un-doctor-like pleasure at the sight of him, followed by a comparable wave of curiosity. What was it about this man that made her long-dormant hormones come online? In romance novels, the women feared the flood of feeling, but Doc only feared them. Feeling sparked her curiosity. Curiosity kept them busy, so curiosity was good.
    “Morticia.” His voice was rich and faintly accented. “I am pleased to see you are well.”
    The theme from The Addams Family started to play in the void inside her head. It always did when someone called her that. A smile tugged at the edges of her mouth, further eroding her doctor persona. She should have been analyzing and cataloging this new experience, and maybe she was, somewhere inside her head.
    He’d said her name almost as if he savored the sound of it, while his eyes revealed he was savoring the sight of her. His gaze peeled back who she tried to be and exposed someone she’d never met. She wanted to analyze that, too, but he dominated the landscape inside her head. Her feet carried her forward, without help from her quiescent brain. A small flicker of self-preservation tried to wave a warning flag, but curiosity trumped that, too, as a flood of interesting and new sensations flooded through her.
    Her hand was still extended for a professional handshake, but when both his hands closed around it, professional went missing in action. The feel of his hands around hers cut through the fog of exhaustion with the precision of a laser lance. There was heat, pleasure, a