Trapped with the Maverick Millionaire

Kade nodded. “Yeah, she is.”

“Get her. Offer her what she needs so she can concentrate on me...” Stupid drugs, Mac thought, making him say the wrong thing. “On my arm. Not me.”

Quinn placed a hand on Mac’s good shoulder and squeezed. “Go to sleep, bud.”

Mac managed a couple more words before slipping off into sleep. “Offer her whatever it takes...”

* * *

Rory paused outside the door to Mac’s room the next day and hoisted her bag over her shoulder. She pushed her hand through her layered, choppy bob before smoothing out a crease that had appeared in her white and navy tunic, thinking that it had already been a weird day and it wasn’t even mid-morning yet. Her day had started with Kade contacting her at the crack of dawn, demanding a meeting to discuss Mac and his injury. She’d told him she could only give Mac her assessment of his injuries and if Mac wanted Kade there, then that was his prerogative. Kade had seemed more amused than annoyed by her crisp tone and had followed up his demands by telling her he had a proposition for her...one that she’d want to hear.

That was intriguing enough to get her to meet with them during her morning break.

Just knock on the door and get this meeting over with, Rory told herself. You are not nineteen anymore and desperately infatuated with your sister’s boyfriend. You’re a highly qualified professional who is in high demand. He’s a patient like any other.

Except none of her patients kissed her like he did, or flooded her system with take-me-quick hormones with one look from his navy eyes.

God, you are ridiculous, Rory thought, not amused.

Not allowing herself another minute to hesitate, she briskly knocked on the door, and when she heard his command to enter, she stepped inside. She ignored Mac’s two friends standing on either side of his bed and her gaze immediately landed on his face. She told her libido to calm down and gave Mac a professional once-over. He was wearing a V-neck T-shirt and someone, probably Troy, had removed the right sleeve. His injured arm was bandaged from wrist to shoulder and was supported by a sling. Clear, annoyed and very wary eyes met hers.

Mac, she also noticed, was in pain but he was fighting his way through it.

Rory looked at his friends, good-looking guys, and smiled. “Hello, Kade. Quinn.” Rory stepped toward the bed. “Mac. It’s been a while.”

Rory held her breath, waiting to see if he remembered the kiss they’d shared, whether he’d say anything about her being in his room the night before. His face remained inscrutable and the look in his eyes didn’t change. Thank God, he didn’t remember. That would make her life, and this experience, easier.

Or as easy as it could possibly be.

“Rory.”

Her name on his lips, she’d never thought she’d hear it again. She desperately wished it wasn’t under such circumstances. Rory gathered her wits and asked Quinn to move out of her way. When he did, she stepped up to the bed and pulled the smaller of the two blankets from her bag and placed the control box on the bedside table.

“What are you doing?” Mac demanded. “You’re here to talk, not to fuss.”

Rory looked him in the eye and didn’t react to his growl. “And we will talk, after I set this up.”

“What is it?” Kade demanded from his spot on the other side of the bed.

Rory explained how the blanket worked and gently tucked the mat around Mac’s injured arm. She started the program, stepped back and folded her arms. “You need some pain meds,” she told Mac.

“I’m fine,” Mac muttered, his tone suggesting she back off. That wasn’t going to happen. The sooner Mac learned that she wasn’t easily intimidated, the better. The trick with difficult patients, and obstinate men, was to show no fear.

“You either take some meds or I walk out this door,” Rory told him, her voice even. Her words left no doubt that she wasn’t bluffing. She picked up the two pills that sat next to a glass of water and waited until Mac opened his hand to receive them. He sent her a dirty look, dry swallowed them and reluctantly chased them down with water from the glass she handed to him.

“You’re not a martyr, nor a superhero, so take the meds on schedule,” she told him in her best no-nonsense voice.Rory held his hot look and in his eyes she saw frustration morph into something deeper, darker, sexier.

Whoo boy! Internal temperature rising...

“You cut your hair,” Mac said, tipping his head to the side.

“Quite a few times in the past decade,” Rory replied, her voice tart. One of them had to get this conversation back on track and it looked like she’d been elected.