Return of Dr Irresistible. Amalie Berlin

He sure sounded calm. But then she remembered—he didn’t really care about them. This was just Doctor Man, who lived to treat patients. Or something.

      ‘I’m trying to be calm. You could hurry up some. You know I need to get back.’ Gordy needed her. Focus on that. ‘Except I forgot that you’re good at leaving people waiting.’ No, don’t focus on that. Gordy. Get it together.

      He gave her a look and snagged her wrist again—no doubt to keep her from getting away. She’d have to climb out the window in her bedroom or squeeze through the one over the sink if she wanted to get out. His big body blocked the tiny kitchenette. And he continued to work at his own pace.

      She tried deep breaths to calm down. She really was trying, that was the problem. She’d thought she could always be calm, but right now she couldn’t. Her heart hammered against her sternum like the beat of so many hooves in the ring. She could hear it, see it pulsing in her vision, and she knew that wasn’t good. Her deep breaths got shallow and fast, outside her control.

      Everything was out of control.

      ‘They won’t euthanize him while I’m gone, right?’ she blurted out. ‘That’s the kind of thing that takes time and preparation, right?’ More words tumbled from her lips.

      Like he knew anything. Or maybe he did. Maybe he was keeping her there forever for a reason. ‘They’d wait long enough to let people say goodbye if it came to that, right?’

      Right? Right? God, she really did sound crazy. And she’d had a plan for speaking to him on the farm, when the dust had settled after they’d all settled in. Later. In the future.

      ‘Take a deep breath. In through your nose,’ Reece said, his voice firm and demanding. He wanted to control everything. Even how she breathed!

      ‘Jolie,’ he said her name again. ‘I think you’re having a panic attack. Slow down your breathing.’

      ‘I’m not panic attacking.’ Was that even a term? She’d said it wrong. Everything was wrong. That’s exactly the kind of inarticulate nonsense that would make him think twice about even considering her request when she got round to making it. And probably everything she’d said and done since she’d seen him again would add to that thinking twice and thrice, and whatever fourth, fifth and sixth were... Sure, no problem, he’d hand over the reins of his birthright to someone who might be a babbling idiot.

      Jolie had no proof she could even lead picnic ants in a straight line to the potato salad. She knew she could do it. Or she thought she could. She’d been so sure before he’d got here. Before she’d fallen headlong into that deep place where she stuffed all the emotions that were too hard to put words to.

      It would be better if she knew it in some logical manner that came with charts and graphs. Doctors probably loved charts and graphs!

      ‘I can’t breathe.’ She probably had caught some awful horse-bite disease. Everything was wrong. Everything.

      He let go of her wrist suddenly and grabbed her hips. Half an accelerated heartbeat later she was sitting on the counter in front of him, gasping for air and shaking all over, helpless against the onslaught of tears that swamped her vision and poured down her cheeks.

      Reece cupped her cheeks, tilting her head until he had her gaze. So blue. So steady.

      He said something. His thumbs stroked her cheeks, wiping away the tears as they poured down. She had no idea what he was saying, calming sounds. Comforting sounds. And they reached her. The tears slowed along with her breathing, and behind them she felt a stampede of embarrassment. And confusion. What the heck had just happened...?

      ‘That was a panic attack?’ her voice rasped, the raw sound causing a few aftershock hiccups.

      He nodded, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to his chest. Warm. Firm. Right where she’d wanted to be.

      ‘I’ve had some experience with them.’

      It was hard to imagine anything rattling Reece like this. ‘They’re awful,’ she mumbled, drained, ashamed, and wantonly breaking rule number two.

      ‘Yes, they are.’

      She’d stop breaking rule number two in a second, but right now she needed the hug. And with her face hidden by his chest she didn’t have to look him in the eye...

      When she didn’t say anything else, he added, ‘They’re your family, and they love Gordy too. They’re not going to make any decisions while you’re getting your injury tended to.’

      ‘I know. I’m sorry. I don’t know why... I don’t know what happened. I don’t usually act like a crazy person.’ She swiped her eyes again and pulled away, before she did something even crazier.

      It had just been the shock of seeing him again for the first time. But that shock was gone, it couldn’t last forever. So it was done. She willed it to be done and she was the one in control of her emotions...not the other way around. Never again. Focus on one big emotion at a time, that was the key to remaining tethered to her sanity. And right now that one big emotion had to be concern for Gordy. He needed her. She could fall apart later.

      Forget that the last time she’d been this scared she’d been sixteen and watching Reece drive away into the world alone, and remember how all the faith she’d put in him—all the worry she’d had for him—had meant nothing. In the end he had been just like her father, who, incidentally, had been good at hugging too.

      She should remember all that. If Reece was going to consider her request, it wouldn’t be because he cared so much about them. She had to find another angle. ‘You should finish.’ Because she’d freaked out before they’d got to bandaging.

      He nodded, looked at her longer than she was comfortable with him looking, then resumed treatment—dabbing on ointment, placing a couple of rectangles of gauze onto the wound, which he had her hold in place so he could deal with the tape.

      ‘Don’t worry about this. You’re just wound tight right now. We all are. I’m worried about him too.’ A couple of rips of tape later and he replaced her fingers with white cloth tape, guaranteed to hold even if she should bleed again and get the whole mess wet. ‘If it starts feeling hot or hurting more, tell me.’

      ‘I know. Antibiotics.’ She pretended he hadn’t said anything about worrying about Gordy. He could turn his worry on and off like a light switch or he didn’t really feel anything. Or Doctor Worry was different from the worry of mortal men who couldn’t worry and fret over loved ones while ignoring them utterly.

      ‘If I had my kit, I’d start you on them right now,’ he muttered, and smoothed down the last strip of tape. ‘You haven’t got any bigger, have you?’ He squinted at her in a way she could only deem as judgmental.

      ‘I’m big enough. Not everyone aspires to be a giant’s stunt double.’ Sarcasm: Her Refuge. Her voice-activated ten-foot pole for keeping things away, keeping things from getting to her.

      ‘I’m not judging. I was considering your weight for prescription purposes.’

      ‘Oh.’ Okay, so maybe she wasn’t totally done being crazy. But it was easier to jump to a negative conclusion than to think that he cared. He was still here to destroy her everything. Time to go. She slid off the counter on the other side of him and hurried to the door. ‘Lock it when you leave.’ Not waiting for an answer, she took the stairs at a near run.

      ‘Do you want some pain relievers?’ he called from behind her. She heard the question as the door swung shut but didn’t go back inside to answer him. Pain relievers? Hell, yes, she’d like some. She’d also like some amnesia pills. And she’d like him to take them too and forget the last ten minutes.

      Even if the small part of her mind that was currently sane said that no one would put Gordy down without giving her time to say goodbye, she was still more than half-terrified she’d get back to the stables and find him already gone.

      * * *

      Reece