Before sleep took her she heard, “Good night, Magnificent Missy Maggie.”
* * *
All day Court and Maggie had been working at the clinic. She’d helped him with cases since early morning and still couldn’t get her nerve up to ask him to dinner the next evening. She hated to admit it but she owed Court, and being indebted to him went against the grain. She’d made a practice of not letting it happen, even took pride in being self-sufficient.
With recent events, which had been out of her control somewhat, she’d managed to become beholden to the first guy who’d held her notice in a long time. Maggie sighed. Very much the wrong guy. They had no future. He was here for another week and then he’d be gone, never to return, like all the others. Plus, they couldn’t agree on the financial help the hospital needed. That point she couldn’t give on. Still, she should show her thanks. Her parents had brought her up to be polite, and she would be so even if being around Court made her uncomfortable in ways she didn’t like to admit to. She couldn’t put it off any longer. They’d seen the last patient and Court finished up by making notes in the patient’s log book. She spent time putting the clinic in order for the next day but did more than necessary. It was now or never.
Marshaling her courage, Maggie took a deep breath and said, “Uh, Court…”
He looked at her, his brows raised in question. With exhaustion from a long day showing on his face and evening shadow covering his jaw, he was still the best-looking man she’d ever seen. Her fingers twitched with the urge to push his hair off his forehead and massage his temples.
“I wanted to say thank you for seeing about the bandages.”
She’d woke that morning to find her foot stiff and a little sore but not so much so she couldn’t perform her duties. She approached Dr. Roberts at breakfast to say there were still some bandages in the container needing to be retrieved. Dr. Roberts informed her it had already been taken care of. At what had to be her look of shock he said, “Dr. Armstrong and a few of the men saw to it earlier. And, Maggie, he also told me what happened yesterday. I want you to be more careful in the future. Don’t go in the containers by yourself. Much too dangerous.” It miffed her that Court had spoken to her superior. She’d been on her own for years and didn’t need him going behind her back to Dr. Roberts. He meant well but she didn’t like him messing in her business. But despite being aggravated at Court, she still appreciated his help. The bandages were needed in clinic.
“You’re welcome.” His attention returned to the log.
“Court…”
“Yes?” he said, his mouth narrowing.
Why was she having such a hard time asking him such a simple question? She wasn’t the nervous ninny type. She had to get a grip.
“I’d like to say thank you for seeing about the bandages, seeing about me yesterday and helping Neetie out the other day in the market.” Gracious, she had a long list. How had he managed to become so tangled in her life in such a short time?
He shrugged. “Not a problem.”
Court looked away before she blurted out, “Would you like to come to dinner tomorrow night? I’m cooking.”
He sat straighter. She had his complete attention. His lips lifted at the corners, spread wider, and his summer-blue eyes twinkled. “Why, Missy Maggie, I’d love to come to dinner.”
Darn him, he was making fun of her nervousness but with such charm she didn’t mind. In fact, having him give her that sexy smile was worth being made fun of. Maybe him leaving in a little over a week was a good idea. Sooner might be better.
“Good, I’ll expect you at six.” Maggie left with the sound of his warm chuckle filling the space between them.
* * *
Court contemplated Maggie’s invitation to dinner as he made his way to the mess hall. More than one woman had asked him out but he’d never had one who so obviously hated doing so. If she hadn’t felt the need to thank him in some way, he had no doubt she wouldn’t have.
He’d looked forward to their meal all day. She never ceased to surprise him, from her evident love for the Mamprusi she helped, to the respect of the people she worked with, to her over-the-top determination to make a difference. Even if she had to do it all by herself. But the woman needed a keeper. Full time. Who was going to get her out of scraps when he left?
He was headed someplace he didn’t need to go. She had been fine before he’d arrived and she would be fine after he left. Maggie wasn’t his to worry about. No one was, and he liked it that way. Wanted it that way. If he didn’t let her become important to him, he didn’t have to worry about failing her or, worse, feeling the pain of losing her.
The gentle sound of humming filled the mess hall. While he crossed the dining area toward the kitchen the humming turned into a burst of words from a rock-and-roll song he recognized but couldn’t put a name to. Maggie had a nice voice. Not the first thing he’d found nice about Maggie over the past few days.
He’d shown up early. For some reason he couldn’t fathom, he’d been drawn to the mess hall all afternoon. He’d even gone through all the wards, seeking a chore to help him stall for time. It had been no lie when he’d told Maggie he enjoyed cooking. If she was good enough to cook for him, he could at least be nice enough to help out. He’d use that excuse anyway. Helping her would also give him a chance to learn more about life in Ghana. Something the hurried schedule in clinic didn’t allow. Plus, it might be a good stress reliever—something he not had much of in the past few months.
He stepped into the kitchen, stopped cold and shot to hot.
Maggie’s back was to him and her hips were swaying to the beat of the music. Court’s stomach contracted like he’d been gut-punched. His pulse pounded in his ears. She wore shorts. Not an extremely tall woman, she still had the longest, shapeliest, sexiest legs he’d ever seen.
Court eyes fixed on the muscled but gently rounded thighs before moving down past the crevice behind her knees to the sloping arch of her calves. Had it just been the day before yesterday when he’d run his hands over her smooth skin? His gaze paused at her thin-boned ankles and her bare feet, before taking his time retracing his previous path of sight back up her leg.
He gulped. Oh, yes, he was a leg man all right, and Maggie had an outstanding pair. What would it be like to have one of those wrapped around him in bed? His body hardened at the thought.
Mercy, he was losing it. Had he been out in the heat too long?
Had her keeping her legs hidden so well under skirts made them even more appealing? Was it because they were forbidden, or because they were Maggie’s? He wanted to believe the former true but he wouldn’t bet on it. He knew lust when he felt it. He was a red-blooded male and he appreciated women.
But Maggie was the type of woman who led with her heart. He’d seen it more than once as she cared for patients during clinic and while talking to Neetie. His feelings were securely vaulted away. He didn’t do relationships, and he didn’t see Maggie as a one-night-stand type.
The CD player she sang along with stopped. She must have heard a movement because she chose that moment to turn. Her mouth formed an O, and her eyes widened.
The knife she held fell to the floor with a tinkle of stainless steel. Their gazes held, while the knife rattled to a stop on the cement floor. Sexual awareness hung in the air like a cotton-candy-thick fog.
Court watched her swallow, wishing he could trace the subtle movement with a tip of his finger.
He had to get a hold on his desire or he’d have her on the counter in no time. Maggie deserved better. Yeah, right. Like she would allow him to touch her. She’d made it clear a number of times that she was off-limits. Shifting his weight to make the evidence of his interest less obvious in his cargo shorts, he said, “Maggie, you hav
e shorts on.”
His high-priced Boston education, and years of fancy words in medical school had certainly disappeared from his vocabulary. He sounded like a teenage boy who’d just realized girls came in more varieties than sisters.
She raised an eyebrow and laughed. “Yes, I have shorts on. Thanks for letting me know.”
It had been a long time since someone had had the chutzpah to make fun of him. Why did Maggie finding humor at his expense not bother him? He couldn’t help but join in her laughter. Her pure notes swirled around his deep, rougher tone and became one.
He reached down at the same time she did to pick up the knife. His hand skimmed hers. Time stopped then surged forward. Maggie pulled her hand back and stepped away. He tossed the knife into the sink. Turning round, he found Maggie starting to wrap a piece of material around her waist.
“You don’t have to cover up on my account.”
She tossed him a look that said Stop now before you go too far as she finished putting on her skirt. “Why’re you here? I wasn’t expecting you for another hour or so.”
“I’m your sous chef. Reporting for duty.” He gave her a small military salute.
“Yeah, right. You taking orders. I don’t see that happening.”
“Ouch. That hurt. Please, chef, give me a try. I might surprise you.”
The twinkle in his eyes and the twist of his lips made her wonder if the statement might have a double meaning. She had no intention of letting this fly-in, fly-out doctor take her heart with him when he left. But she couldn’t push him too far away. She needed to at least be friendly, so she could convince him the hospital needed the foundation’s support.
Everyone understood the mess hall was her sanctuary on Sunday evenings and they wouldn’t enter. Either Court hadn’t heard or he didn’t care. Most likely didn’t care, since he did as he saw fit. She’d looked forward to this time of solitude in her week. But would it be so bad to share it with Court just one time? Except for her heart rate rising, temperature over the top and melting-in-her-center awareness of him. Still, it felt gratifying to have an attractive man’s attention. Something she hadn’t realized she’d missed.