His Perfect Woman (Harlequin Superromance) Read Online Free PDF Page B

Bryan caught her arm before she could leave the room. Maybe he did feel sorry for her, but he certainly wasn’t about to confirm it, not when pity was obviously the last thing she wanted. Acutely aware of how delicate she felt beneath his palm, he released her. “I feel sorry for me, okay? I just spent the last two hours patching up a couplesquirming kids, and both parents left without paying me even though I saved them a trip to the E.R. in Baxter.”
    She blinked. “Really? They just left? ”
    He put the last of the supplies away. “Yeah. Maybe they’ll stop by Monday to settle up, but who knows? It doesn’t matter because I don’t know how to enter payments into the computer system, and I haven’t had any luck with the temp agency.”
    â€œYou sound desperate.”
    He felt the heat of her stare and noted how her eyes had narrowed and her arms were crossed over her front. Unease slid over him and he knew exactly what she was going to ask next.
    â€œSo this job offer has nothing to do with you feeling bad about being the one to tell me how…my baby really died?”

CHAPTER THREE
    B RYAN LEVELED his gaze on hers and frowned. “No.”
    â€œNo?” Her chin lifted. “What about my medical history, then? Does that bother you?”
    He leaned against the exam table, his temper rising because of the challenge he heard in her voice. If she didn’t want the job, fine. All the better for him. Being around her, knowing what she’d experienced, brought back too many memories. “You couldn’t have prevented Josie’s death,” he murmured, focusing on her questions and shoving the past away. “Too many factors played into her reaction to the medication, none of which were in your control. Your health, her premature birth. I imagine you and Joe will always maintain a certain feeling of guilt as Josie’s parents, but you couldn’t have done anything differently. Guilt is like that. All-consuming,” he stated knowledgeably. “And while I’m sorry your baby girl died, that’s not why I offered you the interview. As to your other question, what kind of doctor would I be if your cancer diagnosis didn’t bother me?”
    â€œI meant—”
    â€œBut I wouldn’t not hire you because of it,” he stated firmly. “Melissa, I have a business to run and patients to care for and I can’t help but think that your experiences will give you a little more patience and empathy in comparison to some of the others I’ve interviewed.”
    â€œI…thank you,” she murmured dazedly, blinking. “I’d like to think it would.”
    â€œI take it the diagnosis has kept other potential employers from hiring you?”
    She nodded, her teeth sinking into her lower lip, her blue eyes soft, untrusting, and yet hopeful. It was the hope that got to him. Ellen had no right to dump this—her—on him, but he only had himself to blame. For not saying no, for letting the battle-weary hope in Melissa’s eyes remind him of someone else. He should send her on her way, ignore Ellen, but he couldn’t and he knew it.
    Bryan shoved himself off the exam table and kept going, conscious she followed him into the waiting area. Facing her, he indicated the front desk with a hand.
    Her eyes widened at the sight of the mess.
    â€œThis isn’t an easy job. My last full-time person updated the computer system before she quit, and I’m no help at all figuring it out. Janice Reynolds is my R.N., but she only handles patients, not the phones, the files or the insurance forms that have to be filed. You’d handle those administrative responsibilities and take charge of planning a major fund-raiser that’ll require working extra hours. And you’d earn every penny I pay you and all the benefits provided. Are you interested?”
    â€œGetting insurance for me won’t be