Tempted By Her Hot-Shot Doc. Becky Wicks

good,’ Ryan told him, and watched him shoot back through the door.

      ‘She was pouring pecans into the chocolate mix when her sleeve caught on fire. That’s why they’re all over the floor.’

      Madeline.

      Ryan had only just realised she was there, too. She was holding the bandage Evan had given her and translating every word. He took the bandage from her, noticing the pecan nuts under his feet for the first time.

      ‘She says she’s worried the dessert is ruined. It’s been cooking too long now without being stirred.’

      Ryan listened as Madeline spoke in Portuguese to the crowd and someone moved to stir the pot she was pointing at. She reached for a clean dishcloth, soaked it under another tap and handed it to him. On autopilot Ryan placed it over the woman’s arm for a moment, before wrapping the bandage around it and fastening it behind her wrist. Her tears were subsiding already and she really did seem more concerned about her dessert.

      ‘Can you tell her I’ll give her some ibuprofen, and that she should go home and get some rest?’ he asked Madeline, who promptly did as she was asked.

      Back at the table, when the ibuprofen had been dispatched and the drama was all but forgotten, the party resumed its happy chatter while the glorious Rio sunset made way for a sky full of stars.

      ‘You were pretty impressive in there, Nurse Madeline,’ he whispered, when he couldn’t keep it in any more.

      He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it—the way she’d sprung into action and known what to do, and say. His Portuguese was limited, as was his Spanish. He got by—but mostly on charm and miming, he had to admit.

      ‘I didn’t do anything,’ she said quickly.

      He frowned. ‘Yes, you did. It was instinctive.’

      She shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with his eyes on her. Her jaw started pulsing and he knew not to say anything else.

      He also knew without question that keeping away from Madeline Savoia was going to be impossible. Not only was she impossibly intoxicating—whether she liked it or not—she wasn’t just a writer.

      If he had his way she’d be helping him with medical duties so frequently that the details she really needed for the memoir to be a hit would be the last thing on her mind.