Bride for a Single Dad. Laura Iding

been over the drugs? Or a girl? Or something else entirely?

      He didn’t know. But either way he couldn’t do anything to bring the kid back, much as he wished he could. Shoving thoughts of the dead boy aside, his gaze followed Jillian’s lithe figure as she entered a patient’s room.

      A few moments later she emerged from behind the curtain and returned to the nurses’ station. His gaze lingered on her, the cute way her forehead puckered in a slight frown as she reviewed a patient’s chart. Her serious expression made him wish he could make her laugh. Her hair, a rich chestnut color, was pulled back into a curly ponytail and he wondered how she’d look with her hair down, framing her face.

      When he’d been brought into Trinity’s ED after one of his suspects had tried to slice him with a knife, he’d been thankful the pretty doctor had been assigned to take care of him. As she’d tended his wound he’d been hyper-aware of her dainty yet capable hands on his skin. For the first time since Shelby had come to live with him, he’d considered asking a woman out.

      Luckily, it had been a fleeting thought. His life was complicated enough, he didn’t need to add another element that might disrupt Shelby’s newfound peace.

      He straightened from the wall when Jillian walked toward him. Despite his mini-lecture to himself, his body responded when he caught a whiff of her scent. “Alec? My office is this way.”

      She’d remembered his name. Stupid to be flattered, but he was. She led him to a tiny, compact office without so much as an outside window and waved him toward a seat as she settled in behind the modest desk.

      Her medical school diplomas were framed and hung in prominent display on the wall behind her head. The reality of her extensive education punched him in the gut. Pretty as she may be, it was obvious Dr. Jillian Davis existed in a world very different from his.

      “Could I see those percocets again?” Jillian asked. “I need to check the lot number.”

      He dug into his pocket and drew out the evidence. He tossed them onto her desk. “Why? So you can match the lot number to that of the drugs missing from this hospital?”

      “Yes, but I’m not sure if hospital administration would approve of me discussing the details with you,” Jillian admitted. She turned over the package and jotted a series of numbers on a pad of paper. “I think it’s best if I get you in touch with our risk management department.”

      Alec frowned. He would have preferred to work with Jillian directly. In his experience, once hospital administrators were involved, the lines of communication became far less direct.

      He leaned forward, pinning Jillian with a sharp gaze. “Dr. Davis, I really don’t have time to mess around with your hospital administration. First of all, it’s past seven on a Friday night and I’m sure most of the administrative staff has already gone home. If you make me wait until Monday, the trail will be cold. A sixteen-year-old kid died after exchanging gunfire with another, who is right now undergoing surgery. I need to know if these drugs cost this boy his life. Or, even worse, if other innocent kids are in danger.”

      She worried her lower lip between her teeth and a shot of desire stirred his groin. Dammit, he needed to stop thinking of the pretty doctor as an attractive woman. He had more important issues to deal with than his sudden awareness of a member of the opposite sex.

      Not just any member of the opposite sex. Jillian was a doctor, with years of education and training behind her. He’d admired the way she’d managed the situation in the trauma room, taking charge, confronting the apathy of the surgeon on call.

      Which reminded him of the moment when the forceps had dropped from her fingers. Jillian hadn’t seemed like the clumsy type. He wasn’t a doctor, but from where he stood it had looked as if she’d suddenly lost feeling in her fingers.

      “There’s six tablets here,” Jillian murmured as she stared down at the percocets. “A week ago, there were twelve tablets of percocets missing from the narcotic cabinet.”

      “Twelve?” Alec forced his attention to the facts she was giving him. “So it’s not just a couple of pills here and there?”

      Jillian shook her head. “No. The timeframe from when the drugs were restocked until the time they were noticed as missing was almost three hours. At first the nurses thought maybe the pharmacy tech who stocked the drawer had miscounted, but when they questioned him, he was adamant that he hadn’t made a mistake. The nurse who signed off on the tech’s stocking of the drawer also verified the medication was there. A few people went into the machine for medication, but then cancelled their transaction. Management thinks maybe one of those nurses went in to take the pills and didn’t record it, but the nurses swore they didn’t take them and there’s no proof one of them did. For now they’re downloading information from the computer every day, watching for more trends.”

      “So the narcotics are locked in a computerized system?” he asked, grabbing that tidbit of information.

      “Yes.”

      Interesting. He would have loved to see the machine for himself, but first things first. He took a small notebook out of his pocket. “Which nurses canceled their transactions?”

      She hesitated. “I really think you should get the information from hospital administration. For all we know, someone may have gotten the password of one of these nurses. They could be innocent.”

      “Well, then, I’ll take a list of all the nurses who were working that day.”

      Jillian looked apologetic. “The ED nurse manager, Rose Jenkins, gathered all the information together for the risk management department. I don’t have the list, you’ll have to get it from her.” His concern must have shown on her face, because she quickly added, “I’d like to help you, but I really need clearance from hospital administration. There’s usually someone on call.” His nerves tingled when her fingertips brushed against his in the process of handing the percocets back to him. “I just can’t believe this is a coincidence.”

      No, he didn’t believe in coincidences either. As Jillian toyed with her pen, his two-way radio let out a squawk. His partner was no doubt trying to figure out what had happened to him.

      He spoke quietly into the microphone and then stood. Jillian—no, Dr. Davis, he quickly amended—glanced up at him. “You need to go?”

      “I’m afraid so.” He didn’t bother to hide the pang of regret. “Would you mind if I called you tomorrow? Are you working?”

      “I’m not working but you can always reach me on my pager, I wear it twenty-four seven.” Jillian rose to her feet and handed him a slim, white business card. “Give me a few hours tomorrow morning to page the administrator on call. I’ll do my best to help you.”

      “Great.” He stared at the number on the embossed card, understanding her commitment to her job was as deeply ingrained as his. Was she married? Did she have children, too? For some reason, and not just her ringless fingers, he thought not. “Thanks again, Dr. Davis.” He moved toward the door.

      “Alec?” The husky way she said his name sent goose-bumps down his arms.

      “Yes?” He turned toward her, steeling himself against the surge of awareness.

      “Please, call me Jillian.” Her smile held a note of uncertainty.

      Despite his efforts to keep his distance, warmth seeped through his chest at her request. “Pretty name, Jillian.” He couldn’t help grinning when she blushed and he slid her card into his breast pocket. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

      “Sounds good.”

      He flashed her one last smile, before walking outside to meet his partner. The traitorous part of his body was looking forward to seeing Jillian again.

      Work-related or not.

      * * *

      Jillian got up early as she usually did and went for a three-mile run. At least her legs seemed to be working