Hot Single Docs Collection. Lynne Marshall

roof of her mouth, leaving her unable to answer him and feeling like an awkward teenager with a first crush.

      Urgh. How could one sister be such a consummate flirt and known for the many hunks wrapped around her manicured finger and the other sister be a shy, inept mute just because a good-looking man spoke to her? Not even spoke to her about anything personal but about a patient. Yes, she really was pathetic.

      Probably taking her silence as disapproval—or who knew what he thought of her since he usually ignored her—Tyler stepped closer to the incubator. “I was on duty the night she made her entrance into the world. She’s such a sweet little darlin’, ain’t she?”

      His Southern accent got to her, just as it did most of Angel’s female staff. In a big way. His voice was so inviting, like a fire on a cold winter’s night. She just wanted to bask in the warmth of everything about the man. Which was crazy. He was a total player who charmed women right out of their pants. Yet all his exes still adored him. Go figure.

      She risked a look at him and immediately wished she hadn’t. Just as if she really did stand next to a fire, her face burst into a new wave of flames. If there was a pill to cure blushing she’d be first in line at the pharmacy, because she hated the nervous reaction almost as much as she hated her panic attacks.

      “You met her father?” Tyler asked, his warm brown gaze focused on the baby.

      Still unable to prise her tongue off the roof of her mouth, Eleanor shook her head.

      “Guess he still ain’t been by.” Tyler sighed, making the sound long and as drawn out as his speech, as if every sound that came from his mouth had to stretch the span of his home state of Texas. “Can’t help but feel bad for the guy. Losing his wife that way and afraid that he’ll lose this li’l sweetheart, too.”

      Her tongue still not cooperating, Eleanor nodded.

      “I’m glad she got assigned to you, Eleanor. She got lucky and got the best.” Without looking up, he brushed his finger gently across where the baby still clung to Eleanor’s finger.

      Sparks shot up her arm and her breath caught in her throat.

      She’d been so engrossed in the man beside her, in his unexpected compliment, she’d completely forgotten she was still touching the baby until his skin made contact with hers.

      Wow.

      Just wow.

      Thinking she had finally prised her tongue loose, she turned to try to say something witty, but just as she opened her mouth, he flashed that half-crooked grin of his. At someone walking up beside them.

      Someone else female.

      Because he was Dr. Tyler Donaldson and that’s what he did best.

      With every single female in the NICU except for dumpy, boring, mute, too-curvy Eleanor Aston.

      * * *

      Where was the black dress she’d brought with her that morning?

      Panic raced through Eleanor as she stared at the contents of her staff locker.

      It had been ransacked.

      In the place of her gym bag, the black dress that she’d neatly hung that morning and the pair of black flats she’d planned to quickly change into was a note in familiar handwriting.

      A note that made smoke billow from her ears.

      You’re gonna look so hot, sis. You can thank me later. B.

      Thank her? Ha. She was going to strangle her sister. How had Brooke gotten into the doctors’ lounge? Gotten into her locked locker? Not that her sister had been there herself. No way would Brooke risk being seen or photographed with her face red, swollen and peeling.

      Yet her sister had wiped her out.

      Even her purse was gone.

      There were three items in the locker other than the note. The red dress and stilettos that her sister had so thoughtfully sent over and a square white box that covered almost the entire bottom of the locker.

      Dare she even open the lid to see what lay inside?

      She glanced at her watch, knew she was running out of time and snatched the lid off to stare at the items inside.

      Underwear. Eleanor wrinkled her nose. Leave it to her sister to know that if you were going to wear an itty-bitty dress you had to have itty-bitty underwear to go with it.

      Plus, a red clutch purse that matched her dress and shoes and a too-big, too-flamboyant hair clip meant more for adornment than to actually be useful.

      And makeup. Lots of makeup.

      Acid gurgling in her stomach, Eleanor shook her head. This was her place of employment, the hospital where she worked.

      Okay, she’d jump in the shower and pray that when she was clean, her belongings would be back.

      They weren’t.

      “What’s wrong?” Scarlet asked, doing a mad make-over dash of her own to get changed for the ribbon-cutting.

      “My sister has gone too far this time.” Eleanor tightened the towel she had wrapped around her body. “How am I ever going to be taken seriously again if I wear that?”

      Scarlet’s gaze ran over the dress then over Eleanor from head to toe. “I’m pretty sure if you wear that there’s going to be a lot of people taking you seriously. Maybe one person in particular.”

      Eleanor’s chest tightened. “What do you mean?”

      “Don’t give me that. I’ve seen how you look at him.”

      “Who?” Had her voice just squeaked?

      Scarlet laughed. “Dr. Donaldson.”

      “He barely knows I exist.”

      Scarlet motioned to the dress. “You wear that and there’s not going to be a man alive who isn’t aware you exist.”

      Eleanor crinkled her nose. Brooke she could see putting her into a dress she shouldn’t be in, but she trusted Scarlet. “You really think so?”

      Scarlet gave her a duh look. “Hurry up and get changed and I’ll help you do your makeup and hair. You have great eyes and hair. We’ll play them up to draw attention to them.”

      Great eyes and hair? Right. Had Brooke bribed her friend to say that? Next thing she would be telling her she had a great body.

      “Of course, with a chest like yours it’s going to be difficult to keep attention anywhere but on your cleavage.”

      That she knew. Which was why she never wore anything revealing or clingy. Her breasts were too big, but they matched her curvy hips and thighs.

      But Scarlet was right. She was running out of time and it wasn’t as if she had anything else to wear. Plus, she felt ridiculous talking while wearing only a towel.

      She let her gaze go back to the items in her locker. If she was going to look a fool, she might as well go for broke. “Why not?” She smiled at her friend. “We’d better hurry. Thanks to my father for being out of town and Brooke not being able to make it, yours truly is sort of the guest of honor.”

      “You’re going to totally knock the socks off Dr. Donaldson,” Scarlet mused as Eleanor stepped into the dress. “It’s a perfect fit.”

      Eleanor blinked, then put her glasses on and stared at herself in the mirror. “Yeah, but where’s the rest of the dress?”

      She tugged on the material, trying to cover some of her cleavage, but only managed to hike the skirt higher up her thighs.

      Dear Lord, if she bent over someone might get a glimpse of those tiny scraps of underwear Brooke had left her no choice but to wear or go commando.

      Mortification set in. “I can’t go out in public like this.”

      Scarlet