Love's Healing Touch. Jane Perrine Myers

a dimple appeared on her cheek. For an instant, she assumed the appearance of a human being, a real person, not a doctor.

      Probably noticing his confused look, she allowed her usual professional expression to slide across her features again. Then she said in a voice a bit softer than her usual this-is-what-you-have-to-do tone, “Fuller, let me buy you a cup of coffee. There’s something I want to discuss with you. Purely professional. Nothing personal.”

      He wondered what purely professional meant and why she had given him that smile. Probably didn’t mean a thing to her but it was the first almost-full smile he’d ever seen from her. It was a dazzler.

      If he wanted to keep things professional, he shouldn’t join Dr. Ramírez for coffee. Meeting Dr. Ramírez outside the E.R. seemed odd to him, but he deserved a little bit of the good stuff—and Dr. Ramírez was really good stuff.

      “Yes, ma’am, um, Doctor…Ramírez.” He hadn’t babbled like that since he’d asked Maribel Suárez out when he was a shrimp in the tenth grade. He cleared his throat and said, “I have to restock a room. Meet you in the cafeteria.”

      When she left, he checked cabinets in Exam 1, made sure equipment had been replaced in the correct cabinets, and replaced gauze, tape and other supplies that were low. As he worked, he replayed the incident with Dr. Ramírez and felt like an idiot. Since Cynthia broke up with him, he’d been questioning everything in his life, but there was nothing unusual here. The idea she might put a move on him in the middle of a hospital cafeteria was crazy…but very appealing.

      He almost slapped himself for that last thought.

      Finished, he stripped off his gloves, washed his hands and splashed water on his face. Then he ran damp fingers through his hair as he attempted to make out his reflection in the paper towel holder.

      “Hot date, Fuller?” the tall, balding RN asked him as he came through the curtains. What was his name? Oh, yeah, Sam Mitchelson. “Couldn’t help but hear the invitation from back there.”

      “Just a cup of coffee. Like she said, ‘Nothing personal.’” Mike tossed the towel away and moved toward the door.

      “That’s more than any of us, including doctors, have been asked to share. You must possess something special to rate that.”

      Mike grinned. “Only good looks, high intelligence and great charm.”

      “Don’t forget she’s a doctor, Fuller,” he said to Mike’s back. “If you want to keep your job, never disagree with a doctor.”

      Mike left the E.R. and headed toward the cafeteria, passing a row of wheelchairs outside X-ray and dodging a crowd getting off the elevator as he walked down the main corridor.

      Macho posturing aside, Mike reminded himself again she’d asked him for coffee, only coffee, not a date. As he’d told himself a million times, he had no interest in a relationship and no time, but his response showed he found Dr. Ramírez very attractive. His reaction to her had him thinking that Cynthia hadn’t completely killed his interest in women.

      Just past the hallway to ICU, he turned to open the door to the cafeteria. The usual mix of medical personnel and family members of patients sat at the square tables. Straight ahead by the windows was Dr. Ramírez with another doctor.

      Maybe this wasn’t a good idea.

      From her table, Ana watched Fuller enter the cafeteria. Tall and handsome with broad shoulders, he looked great in scrubs. That was pure observation, not attraction, she told herself. His height and those broad shoulders made it easier for him to move and transport patients.

      When he saw her, he paused and looked a little uncertain. His confusion was probably because Dr. Craddock, the chief of staff, sat next to her, flirting with her. At least thirty years older than she and married, the fool was flirting.

      The closer the orderly got to the table, the more obvious Craddock’s attention became. Thank goodness they would soon be interrupted.

      Fuller stopped when he saw Craddock still talking. He backed away, but she beckoned him forward with a wave.

      As he reached the table, Fuller said, “Hello, Dr. Craddock.” At her gesture, he dropped into the chair next to Craddock. She pushed a cup of coffee closer to Fuller.

      “Hello.” Dr. Craddock studied the orderly with one eyebrow raised. “And you are?”

      “Mike Fuller. I’m a CA in the E.R.” He poured cream in his coffee and stirred it.

      “Oh? An orderly?” Craddock’s voice and that still-raised brow left no doubt he felt the orderly shouldn’t be sitting with two doctors.

      “I asked Mr. Fuller to join me. I need to discuss something with him.” She smiled at Craddock and gave his hand a sisterly pat. That should put him in his place.

      Craddock stood. “I see that I’m the one who’s not needed here.”

      “Dr. Craddock doesn’t approve of your ignoring the hospital social order.” Fuller watched the older man move away to join a table of doctors.

      “Doctors can be a rigid bunch.” She picked up her coffee and took a sip. “But that’s not what I wanted to talk to you about.” She rubbed her thumb along the side of the cup before she looked up at him. “Fuller, I’ve watched how you handle situations. You’re intelligent and capable.”

      “Thank you.”

      He must wonder where this conversation was going. Had she thoughtlessly put him in an awkward situation? Probably so. That’s what she got for pushing herself into other people’s lives. They weren’t always grateful.

      “You’re an excellent clinical assistant.”

      He nodded.

      “You must have a high-school diploma or a GED or you wouldn’t be working here.”

      He nodded again and gazed over her shoulder toward something behind her.

      “Do you have any college hours?”

      He scrutinized her face for a moment. “I’m not comfortable with this conversation, Dr. Ramírez. Is there a reason for your questions?” he said, politely but clearly setting boundaries.

      “Yes, there is, and, honestly, I want to encourage you.”

      He took a gulp of coffee.

      “Do you have any college hours?” The question sounded rude. She really needed to work on her delivery.

      He paused before nodding, again not meeting her eyes.

      She was stymied. He clearly wasn’t going to give her any more information than he had to, and he didn’t have to give her any. “I know I have no right to ask you, but I’d really appreciate it if you’d answer a question or two.” After a pause when the orderly didn’t say a word, she added, “Please.”

      When he raised an eyebrow but didn’t say no, she asked, “How many college hours?”

      “I have a degree.” He drank the rest of his coffee, placed the cup on the table and pushed the chair back.

      “Please don’t go.” She put her hand on his.

      The touch was not the friendly pat she’d intended. As she pulled her hand away, she glanced up to gauge his reaction. His eyes held a spark of interest before he looked down at his empty cup. The man had gorgeous brown eyes, a slight stubble on his cheeks and a square chin. A pleasant glow spread through her. Obviously, more was involved in her feelings for Fuller than mentor for student. Why hadn’t she noticed that before she asked him to meet her for coffee?

      “Dr. Ramírez, I prefer not to continue this discussion.” His words were polite but, when he stood, he glared at her, as much of a glare as an orderly dared give a doctor. She couldn’t blame him.

      “I’m sorry, Fuller. I don’t mean to make you feel uneasy.” She forced her attitude back to