The Doctor Who Made Her Love Again. Susan Carlisle

      Robin’s shoulders squared and she gave Jean her indignant look. “That might be so, but it doesn’t change the obvious. He’s got the hottest car in town.”

      The sound of a throat clearing came from behind them. “I’m not sure that’s a compliment as it sounds like I have a four-wheel personality,” Payton said from the doorway of his office, before he stepped into it.

      Robin and Doris giggled.

      “We really do need to quit talking about him. He seems to always catch us,” Doris hissed.

      China had learned her lesson way before now.

      Payton strolled up to the desk. “Robin, how would you like to go for a ride some time since you seem to like my car better than me? I’ll even let you drive.”

      The young woman’s face lit up. “Really? You mean that?”

      “Sure.”

      “If anyone else wants to come along …” he looked at Doris and then China “… you’re welcome too.”

      Robin said with a huge grin, “You have a date. I’m off now but will be back at seven when you close up here.”

      China and Doris laughed as Robin almost skipped down the hallway with pleasure.

      “I wish I could make all the women I know happy that easily,” Payton said, as he picked up a chart.

      Was he talking about a girlfriend? It didn’t matter. It wasn’t her business.

      At present there was only one patient at the clinic, a preteen with a possible broken arm. As China walked down the hall to check on the boy, the low rumble of male voices caught her attention. Larry Kiser, the doctor Payton was relieving for the day, was in the office with him. Why was she able to distinguish Payton’s voice so clearly from Larry’s, which she knew much better?

      She entered the exam room and spoke to the mom, reassuring her. As she exited Payton stepped out of the office.

      “I understand that the patient needs to go to the E.R. for a cast,” he said.

      “Yes. I’ll take care of the paperwork right away and let the E.R. know they’re on their way.”

      “Thank you, China.”

      “You’re welcome, sir.”

      “You don’t have to speak to me like I’m a drill sergeant. Yes, is fine.”

      “I was taught to say ‘Yes, sir’ and ‘No, sir.’ My parents told me it was a sign of respect.”

      He nodded. “I appreciate that. But it makes me sound old and rigid.”

      “I’m sorry. It’s sort of ingrained in me. I’ll make an effort not to, but I can’t promise it won’t slip out.”

      “Where I come from, ‘Yes’ suffices.”

      Maybe the reason he rubbed her up the wrong way was because they were from such different parts of the country. “I’ll try,” she said, heading down the hall and mumbling, “sir.”

      “I heard that.”

      She grinned. There was something about Payton that brought out the devil in her, as her father would have said. She so rarely let that happen but it felt good when she did.

      Robin and Doris left for the day, with Robin once again promising she’d be back at closing time. Payton pulled his keys out of his pocket and jingled them. “They’re here, waiting for you.”

      The patient flow increased then eased around dinnertime, which gave China a chance to catch up on some charting and clean out a supply cabinet that sorely needed it. At five Jean had to run out for a few minutes on an errand. As China worked she could hear the soft rumble of Payton’s voice as he dictated in the office.

      She was standing on a small metal stool on tiptoe, stretching to reach a box of alcohol wipes that had been pushed to the back of the shelf, when Payton said, “China, do you—?”

      China jerked back, her foot slipping off the stool, and she fell backwards. Strong arms caught her around the waist and set her safely on her feet.

      Shaking, she quickly moved out of his hold. “You scared me.”

      “I didn’t mean to. You aren’t hurt, are you?”

      “No, I’m fine,” she muttered.

      “Good.”

      He sounded indifferent and she was still recovering from his touch. “Is there something you need?”

      “Wanted to know if there’s more printer paper somewhere.”

      “Yes. Jean keeps it stored in her office. I’ll get it.”

      “Just tell me where it is and I can find it.”

      “I don’t mind.” China headed into Jean’s office.

      “Do you always have to be the one who helps?” His voice had a tone of exasperation. “I’ve noticed you’re the first to say you’ll do it.”

      She turned and placed her hands on her hips. He really was far too critical. “You gained all that knowledge from just knowing me a few days?”

      “Yes. It’s okay to let people manage for themselves.”

      “I do. But it is also nice to help when people need it. And while we’re at it, do you feel the need to tell everyone how to live or am I just special?”

      He raised a brow, which gave him a perplexed look. “What’re you talking about?”

      “I’m talking about you complaining about my eating habits, my speech and now my behavior. Is that something that people from the North feel compelled to do?”

      “I’m a Midwesterner.”

      “Whatever you are, we’re here in the Deep South and we consider it poor manners to criticize others, at least to their faces.” She’d lived on an unraveling rope most of her life where disapproval was concerned and she didn’t want to come to work every day thinking it would be there also. She turned and stalked into Jean’s office. With a clap of the cabinet door closing, she returned and thrust a ream of paper into his chest.

      Payton gave her a bemused look that upped her anger a notch.

      “Don’t worry, I won’t be doing another thing for you outside what’s required as a nurse.” Having no place to go, she hurried down the hall and out the back door into the humid evening air.

      What was wrong with her? The man made her mad enough to punch something. Of all the nerve!

      Payton wasn’t sure what had just happened but he’d give China this—she had passion. He’d seen her aggravated at him at the donut shop, had recognized her being impressed with his skills with a patient, had seen her apologetic over her grocery cart contents but he’d never have guessed at the depth of passion that was bottled inside her.

      He had just been teasing her when the conversation had started but she’d taken it and run. He’d hit a nerve somewhere and she’d exploded. That would be an understatement. He didn’t think TNT came in smaller or more combustible packages. Did that translate into any other areas of her life? The bedroom perhaps?

      Payton huffed. He’d gone far too long without a woman to be thinking like that. Janice had left him and then he’d been so sick. China didn’t even like him. She’d more than made that clear.

      He’d returned to his office when the door from the outside opened and closed. Seconds later the water ran in the small kitchen sink. After a while China passed his door, carrying a water can, and was headed for the front of the building. He’d noticed her the other day caring for the large, lush ferns on the front porch and the tropical plant in the waiting room. She even took care of the plants.

      Being cared for was