The Boss and Nurse Albright. Lynne Marshall

to propose her clinic-wide survey. But, instead of suggesting the meeting be adjourned, he walked over to Gina and crouched beside her. Claire blinked, thinking she was imagining things.

      “Hey, squirt, I’ll make you a deal,” he said. “I’ll read that book to you if you’ll sit quietly for just a few more minutes. What do you say?”

      Amazingly, Gina didn’t cower or get embarrassed, as she so easily did with her father when he reprimanded her. “’Kay.”

      Jason nodded, stood and went back to his seat. Gina followed him, something he obviously hadn’t planned on. Surprise widened his eyes when she brought the book to the table and crawled up into his lap. Without saying a word, he helped her get settled and, when Gina was sufficiently at ease, he nodded to Claire to continue as if a minor miracle hadn’t just occurred.

      Claire cleared her throat and said, “I would like to conduct a clinic-wide survey of our patients to find out who is taking which herbs. If you’ll look at the handout, you’ll see I’ve named the ten most widely used herbal supplements and identified the potential drug interactions, some of which can be life-threatening. I believe it is imperative that we know every pill our patients are taking.”

      The group of doctors seemed impressed with Claire’s suggestions, and began a lively discussion of how to go about surveying their entire patient population. Claire noticed that Jason lightly stroked Gina’s curls as he read each handout.

      The man had never looked more natural. Or relaxed.

      His unconscious gesture did wonders for Gina, too. The child had fallen asleep.

      Fifteen minutes later, the meeting came to an end. After gathering all the reports and putting them into her briefcase, Claire glanced at Jason. She caught him studying Gina’s slack mouth with a melancholy gaze. It made her chest squeeze.

      He was a father. She knew it. But where was his family?

      She leaned over to retrieve her daughter. ‘Thank you,” she mouthed.

      “No problem,” he said with a muted voice. But the torn look on his face contradicted his words. Somehow she knew holding her daughter hadn’t been easy for him, and she instinctively knew she owed him a huge favor.

      When Claire picked up Gina, she automatically woke up. “Man read,” she said, rubbing her eyes and kicking her feet. Oh, not now. Please don’t throw a fit, child.

      Claire glanced at Jason, who had a soft but distant look in his eyes.

      “I did make her a promise,” he said, lifting the storybook.

      Relieved, Claire delivered Gina back to his lap and the child settled in immediately, ready for her story. As though he’d read a million children’s books, Jason began. “Once upon a time…”

      As Jason read to Gina, Claire helped René gather up the take-out cartons and wash the flatware. She caught Rene’s marveling glance, then nodded in agreement when she mouthed “wow”. She kept busy, collected Gina’s toys and books and carried everything to her car. She was on her way back into the clinic when Jason met her halfway down the walk. He carried Gina down the steps and hoisted her into her car seat expertly.

      “Thank you so much, Dr. Rogers,” Claire said.

      “Call me Jason, will you?”

      A look passed between them that said so much more than “truce”. For the first time since she’d been working in the new job, Claire felt she belonged. And Jason had shown the first signs of crawling out of his cave.

      Jason watched Claire and Gina drive off. The wrenching pain in his chest made it hard to breathe. He’d paid a price for holding that child. Memories of cuddling Hanna had been dredged up from their carefully fortified cave: the softness of her hair, the perfection of her complexion.

      He couldn’t go on like this.

      He clenched his jaw and watched the taillights turn the corner. He wanted to hit something. To take a sledgehammer and bash to smithereens the tomb that kept his daughter and wife from him.

      That woman and her child had gotten under his skin, had forced him to feel things—things he never wanted to experience again. Feelings he couldn’t bear.

      The damp night air enveloped him as he bit his lip and paced against the torment.

      Chapter Three

      TUESDAY morning, Claire passed the mock-up version of the patient herbal survey to Phil Hanson as he sat in his office. She’d stayed up past midnight putting it together. Aside from his medical school and specialty certificates framed on the walls, there were several surfing trophies and photographs of him with his board. His laid back attitude often carried over into his clothes, and today he wore a Hawaiian patterned tie with a pale blue denim shirt.

      “Looks good,” he said. His thick wavy hair appeared to only have been finger combed, yet he still managed to pull off a charming air. She wondered why he wasn’t married, then remembered René had commented he was a happy and confirmed bachelor.

      “What looks good?” Jason’s deep voice came from over her shoulder.

      It almost made her jump. She turned and found she was the closest she’d ever been to him, but the doorframe kept her from stepping back. His face was freshly shaven and he smelled of sandalwood and citrus, which tickled her senses. Though his hair was neatly trimmed, the longer top part had fallen across his forehead. She fought the urge to sweep it aside. Up close, his gray eyes had tiny flecks of blue in them, and they looked kinder than she’d thought. Or maybe that was because she’d seen him in a new light last night. After he’d read to Gina, her daughter had talked about him the entire ride home, until she’d fallen asleep.

      “Well?” Jason said.

      “Oh. The herbal survey. Here’s a copy for your approval,” she said, handing the pages to him.

      He avoided her gaze, studying the paper instead. In contrast to Phil, his stiff collared white shirt hugged his tanned neck, and he’d made a perfect knot with his drab tie. Someone needed to brighten this guy’s wardrobe up, but it wouldn’t be her.

      After her disastrous marriage, she wanted nothing to do with men. In her time of greatest need, she’d been kicked to the curb by her husband. Hadn’t the wedding vows said “In sickness and in health”?

      “Looks good to me, too.” Jason handed the survey back and continued down the hall and up the stairs. His dark gray, perfectly tailored silk suit molded well to his broad shoulders and narrow waist.

      Phil cleared his throat. Claire snapped back to the task at hand, and retrieved the survey from the doctor. He had a funny look in his eyes, as if he’d caught Claire ogling Dr. Rogers, which may have been the case but she hadn’t meant to be so obvious. Her cheeks heated up and she made a quick getaway.

      In a room of men, most women would notice Phil Hanson first, with his striking good looks and surfer boy features. But Dr. Rogers had a subtle solid handsomeness that caused her eyes to linger. After swearing off the entire gender, she wondered why she was suddenly comparing the men she worked with.

      Claire shook her head, and strode to the receptionist’s desk for the list of patient addresses.

      “We’ll need eight thousand surveys to go out,” Gaby, the receptionist, said.

      “Wow, this is a bigger practice than I thought.” Drs. Munroe and Becker had already approved the survey. Now she had Phil and Jason’s blessing, too, so it was just a matter of mailing it.