Following yesterday’s nearly naked encounter in the hallway, Archie is nowhere to be seen this morning. I heard the shower at five-thirty, a full hour before my alarm was due to go off. Clearly, he’s not taking any chances, even if he did ogle my ass last night.
I shower, then throw on a pair of yoga pants and an oversized sweater. My Converse are downstairs.
‘Good morning.’ I head straight for the Nespresso machine.
‘Morning.’ Archie barely glances up from his phone. Note to self: wear the shirt dress again tonight. ‘Do you know your rota for next week yet? There’s a company coming to fit a new security system. I want to be here when they arrive.’
‘Even if I’m working, you can still be here. Jared used to drop me and go. The hospital has its own security guards. There are cameras in all the corridors.’ Even as I say the words, I know it’s futile.
Archie’s looking good enough to eat in another tailored black suit. My stomach flips and not because I’m hungry. Not for food, anyway. Why, oh why couldn’t any of the boys I met before have this effect on me?
‘Cameras aren’t going to protect you, sweetheart.’ His cool conviction only adds to his appeal. ‘I will, though.’
The steely determination in his hard-set jaw only serves to reinforce his promise.
When we reach the hospital,Archie follows me up three flights of stairs and into the women’s changing rooms. ‘You can’t be here.’ I glance around, glad we’re half an hour early or there’d be a lot of half-dressed, unhappy women wondering what the hell he’s doing.
Archie checks the shower area, the toilets, and every corner of the locker room. I grab my scrubs from the space on the shelf labelled with my name, pulling them up to my nose to inhale the familiar fabric softener. Thank the laundry fairies. They really are amazing.
Seemingly satisfied for now, Archie stalks to the changing room door. ‘I’ll wait outside.’
Probably a good idea. Though if he wanted to watch me undress, I wouldn’t have a problem with it.
Three minutes later, with my hair twisted into a crab clip and my identification pinned to the pocket of my scrubs, I step into the hospital corridor. Two nurses walk towards us. ‘Doctor Sexton.’ They acknowledge me with a brief smile before turning their attention to Archie, elbowing each other in the less than discreet way in which women wordlessly convey, ‘Fucking hell, he is hot.’
I can’t argue with them.
‘Wait outside, if you insist on hanging around the hospital all day.’
‘Outside? You must be joking.’ He takes a seat in the waiting area, which is already overflowing with people waiting to be seen.
‘You can’t be serious.’ Blood flames my cheeks. ‘Do I look like I need a babysitter?’
His head cocks to the side as he stares me down. ‘Do I look like a babysitter to you?’
This is mortifying.
Does Peter Andre’s wife have this problem when she goes on shift?
‘Doctor Sexton.’ Doctor Dickson’s greying temples pop out from behind a curtain, followed by the rest of him. ‘I expected to see you in my office the other day.’
‘Sorry, Doctor Dickson. There was a bit of an incident. A shooting.’And even if there wasn’t, I still wouldn’t have landed in your office.
‘I saw. Are you okay?’ He uses his concern as an excuse for his beady roving eyes to check out my body.
Archie tuts from six feet away. Him staying was a bad idea. I’m well able to fend for myself here. Plus, he’s a distraction. My eyes refuse to stay away from him.
’I’m great. Not a bother on me. Thank you for your concern.’ I nod towards the curtain Doctor Dickson emerged from. ‘What do we have in there?’
‘A suspected fractured femur. I’ve administered IV pain relief and the patient’s heading to radiography shortly. Would you like to take a look?’
‘Please.’
Nothing feeds the ego more than being observed by someone less experienced.
Does that work the same in the bedroom? Archie must have a lot of experience, given he has ten years on me. Would he like to be watched? Or would he prefer to be worked?
‘Doctor Sexton?’ Doctor Dickson’s voice snaps me back from my illicit daydream.
