MADDIE

My nursing shift is almost over, but there’s a patient in triage and both doctors on duty are occupied with emergencies. I was hoping to finish work early and catch up with my friend, Flora. She’s working the next shift, and I’m dying to see the photos of her sister’s wedding, but gossip and giggles will have to wait.  

Who admitted the patient? There’s no data in the system. Sloppy work frustrates me, but I’m not easily rattled. Four years of nursing is long enough to see just about everything. Come on, nurse Nightingale, you can do it. 

I take a deep breath, enter the examination room, and let the door auto close softly behind me. I glance up and lock eyes with the handsome, broad-shouldered man sitting on the examination table. 

“Are you the doctor?” he asks, in a rich, deep baritone. 

The sound reverberates through my body, and tingles dance up my spine. He holds my gaze, waiting for an answer, but I struggle to draw breath. “Um… yes… no…not the doctor,” I stammer. My heart races and I feel woozy. “I’m a nurse, and yes. How can I help you?” I ask while reaching for a pair of disposable rubber gloves. 

“Can you stitch this up, please?” he asks. His voice flows over me, and my heart skips a beat. I’ve stitched loads of wounds. I know what I’m doing. I snap the rubber gloves on, hoping to steady the tremor in my hands.

“Yes, of course,” I bluster, stepping closer to inspect the injury. The man points to his blood-soaked leg & I draw a sharp breath. Come on Maddie, since when did handsome features and broad shoulders trump trauma?  

A heavenly scent overwhelms my senses. What fragrance is he wearing? He smells delicious. I’m drawn to him like a magnet, but being near him feels dangerous. 

I carefully remove the fabric bandage and study the jagged tear in his calf. It’s around three inches long and messy as hell, but he didn’t damage any major blood vessels. I have time to check his vitals and establish whether he has allergies, but his penetrating gaze unnerves me, and I rush through the process. I need to get my head on straight, so I turn away from him and gather the surgical tools.  

The sound of stainless-steel implements dropping into the kidney-shaped tray grounds me. After sterilizing the wound, I fill a syringe with anesthetic, locate a suitable injection site, and empty the contents into his leg. Very soon, he won’t be able to feel a thing. I’m beginning to feel more like myself again. Why did I freak out? He’s just a man. A crazy handsome man, but just a man. 

“How did you injure your leg?” I ask.

“Fishing accident,” he answers, as though a gash this big is an everyday occurrence. 

“Did the fish jump out of the water and bite you?” I joke. 

He laughs and little creases around his eyes make them sparkle even brighter. His Adam’s apple bobs and draws my gaze to his tanned, muscular throat. “I was reeling it in, but it got off the hook. The line whipped out of the water, caught a gust of wind, and well, you know where it landed.”  

“Real life action man, huh?” 

“More like amateur hour,” he quips. “The hook was a little rusty and I haven’t had a tetanus shot since I was twelve.” He flinches when the suture needle pierces his skin, and his eyes snap to mine.

“What type of fish was it?” I ask to distract him. 

“You mean the one that got away?” he asks, one eyebrow raised high on his forehead. “I don’t know its name, but it was this big,” he jokes. His index fingers are approximately eight inches apart, and when my eyes meet his, he shifts his hands further apart to create a larger distance. 

“That big, huh?” I sass. He drops his hands to his thighs and grins. I bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from laughing. But his eyes meet mine, my resistance melts, and both of us end up laughing. I forgot to ask his name when I checked his vitals, didn’t I? Yikes.   

The man observes me while I work but doesn’t interrupt. The moment I pull the final stitch through the skin, I glance up to check if he’s doing okay. He leans forward to read my name badge, but his gaze shifts to my curves. When I catch him, he squirms, and coughs to clear his throat. 

“I really appreciate this. I’d like to thank you,” he says.

“You’re welcome.” I smile. As soon as the wound is dressed in gauze, he swings his legs off the padded bed and lands on the floor with a thud. 

“Can I buy you dinner?” he asks. He’s got to be joking. I gasp and glance up, but his eyes are in shadow. His giant frame towers over me, blocking the overhead light. 

“Tonight.” 

I don’t believe in destiny, fate, or luck. At least I didn’t until she walked into the room. Maddie. Beautiful Maddie. Now I know that all the clichés about lightning strikes and fireworks are true. 

I want to see you again. I want to know everything about you. I want to know you in every single way a man can know a woman. 

There’s no engagement or wedding ring on her finger, which means I stand a chance. And where there’s a chance, I’m going to take it. “Can I buy you dinner?” I ask. Crap. That didn’t come out the way I wanted. I need to be specific. I can’t wait. Please don’t make me wait. “Tonight,” I add. 

I want to slide my thumb along the column of your neck, cup your face, and whisper dirty sweet words in your ear. 

The scissors fall from her hand and clatter on the tiled floor. She curses under her breath, then bends over to pick them up. I struggle to tear my gaze away from her perfect ass but manage to do it before she catches me gawking. 

She avoids eye contact, but her cheeks are flushed. She drops the used surgical tools into a metal tray and throws the soiled bandages in the biohazard trash. 

“It’s my job. You don’t need to thank me any more than you just did,” she answers. She bustles about her work, preparing the room for the next patient. 

Crap. I came on too strong and freaked her out. I bet she thinks I’m nuts. But I’m not. I just know what I want. And I want you. More than I’ve wanted anything or anyone in my life. 

“I’m serious. I want to take you out to dinner,” I say, trying not to sound as desperate as I feel. 

“Thanks,” she says with a sweet smile. “But there’s no need. Truly. I just need to complete the intake form before you go. I’m so sorry, but I forgot to ask your name.” 

“Reid. Reid Griffin,” I offer cautiously, noting her response. She keys the information into the system, but doesn’t react to my name. Excellent. She has no idea who I am. That means I have a chance to get to know her as the real me. Before the weight of my family name clouds her judgment. 

“Reid, the stitches need to be removed in two weeks. If you experience pain or notice signs of infection before that time, please make an appointment.” Her tone is gentle but firm and she hands me a pamphlet on wound care.

“Sure thing, but I’m not going anywhere just yet,” I say, buying myself some more time. Her jaw drops and she frowns. She’s probably thinking about calling security. “You haven’t given me a tetanus shot,” I remind her. 

Maddie recovers her composure and answers, “Oh, right. Of course.” 

Fuck, she’s adorable. Her fingers tremble as she grabs a sterile pair of gloves, a vial and syringe. She draws the vaccine into the chamber and points the needle tip towards the ceiling. I swear there’s a sadistic glimmer in her eye when she asks, “Arm or butt?” 

“Arm please,” I answer as I undo a few buttons and slide the shirtsleeve off my left arm. Maddie points the tip of the syringe up to the light and flicks the chamber theatrically. 

“Shy, huh?” she teases. My shirt gapes open but leaving it on feels like the right thing to do if I want her to trust me. 

“Will it hurt much?” I joke as she swabs my skin with an antibacterial wipe. 

“Only the first time,” she sasses. I tilt my head to one side and answer her flirtatious comment with a low whistle. She squeezes my upper arm to distract me from the sting, then jabs me with the needle. 

“All done. You are free to go.” She removes the gloves and tosses them in the trash while I button up my shirt. 

“Thanks, Maddie. I’ll let you get back to work, but I’ll come back for you,” I say. Her full lips quirk up on one side of her mouth, but her eyes remain on the computer screen at the desk. She updates clinical notes and waves me out the door. 

Her rejection turns me on even more. I live in the woods and keep to myself, but until today, I thought I’d always be alone. Meeting Maddie changes everything for me. I gave up hope of ever finding a woman who could love me for the man I am inside and not just for my money. Or should I say, my family’s money. 

As the eldest son of William Griffin, I’m next in line to run Griffin Manufacturing. The Fortune 500 company was established by my great grandfather, and while I’m grateful for all the opportunities, I’m not the right man for the job. When Dad wants to retire, he’s better served hiring someone else to run the company.

My heart’s not in making money, it’s in giving it away. I used my wealth and privilege to set up an international charity. Helping others is my life’s purpose. My younger brother, Theo, feels the same way. We agreed to serve on the Board, but neither one of us wants to take over the business. I won’t let my family down, and I want Dad to be proud, but I have to do it my way.

Right now, the only person I want to please is Maddie. Since dinner tonight is out of the question, I’ll order two dozen red roses and get them delivered first thing in the morning. 

I’ll do what it takes to woo her, and I won’t give up, until I make her mine.

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