The Bride Test (The Kiss Quotient 2)

Boyfriend. The nurse was gone before either of them could correct him, and once Kh?i set her down, she fixed her attention on the picture of bones and muscles on the wall. “Thank you for . . .” She waved at her ankle, which he’d carefully positioned on the exam bed.

He shrugged and sat down in a chair against the wall. “You shouldn’t walk on it for a while.”

“It’s not bad.” Now. It had hurt something awful earlier, though. She’d thought it was broken, and she’d panicked. She’d clearly failed with Kh?i. If she couldn’t work, would Cô Nga send her back to Vi?t Nam early? She couldn’t go home yet. She still needed to look for her dad. Rubbing her arm uncomfortably, she asked, “Why did you come?”

He gave her a funny look. “You’re hurt.”

Things collapsed inside her heart, and she turned her face away from him and stared down at her hands in her lap. He’d come . . . to be with her?

What a foreign concept.

Growing up, she’d been expected to take care of herself. Her mom and grandma were always busy working, and if she was hurt or sick, it was best to grit her teeth and deal with it on her own. That was even more the case now that she had Jade. When he fussed with the ice pack and repositioned it against her ankle, she felt more cared for than she ever had.

“I’m okay,” she said.

“I hope so.”

A knock sounded on the door, and the doctor strode in—the same one from before. He was extremely good-looking, with dark features, above-average height, and an Indian name she couldn’t pronounce. Navneet Something. He held a black X-ray film in his hands.

“Good news, Esmeralda. No fracture. If you keep it compressed, elevated, and iced, it should be better in a couple weeks.”

Esme’s body loosened with relief. “Great. Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” The doctor flashed a white-toothed grin at her as he took a business

card from his pocket and handed it to her. “It’s not serious enough to need another checkup, but if you want to meet after hours sometime, I’d be happy to take another look.”

Esme accepted the business card and flipped it around to see another phone number scrawled across the back. When her gaze jumped back to his face, he winked at her.

Kh?i stood up then, and the doctor’s eyes widened as he took in Kh?i’s height, dark clothes, and that intense air that made her think of assassins and bodyguards.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t notice you here,” the doctor said.

“What do you mean by ‘after hours’?” Kh?i asked in his serious way.

The doctor swallowed. “It means . . . whatever she wants it to mean.” He backed toward the door. “That’s it for this visit. I’ll send in the nurse to wrap the ankle.” With one last tight smile, he left.

Kh?i scowled at the door as it swung shut and picked up a roll of cloth the doctor had left behind. “I can do it. I know how.”

Then he shocked her by lifting her leg and winding the cloth around and around her ankle and the arch of her foot. His grip was firm, but he never hurt her. His warm fingers were gentle against the icy skin of her calf, her heel, and the ball of her foot, sending goose bumps up her leg.

When she caught her breath, he looked up at her. “Is it too tight?”

She was too distracted to speak. He was touching her ugly foot, and he wasn’t jerking away or wiping his palms on his pants. Instead, he held her like she was precious. It was a heady sensation having his beautiful mind focused entirely on her, even if it was only her ankle.

Belatedly, she answered, “No, not too tight.”

He returned his attention to her ankle, and the edges of the business card pressed into Esme’s skin as she tightened her fingers. She wanted to touch his face, the brooding lines of his profile, his forehead, his jaw, the sharp bridge of his nose, his oh-so-kissable lips . . .

“That should do it,” he said, and when he pulled his hands away, she saw he’d wrapped her ankle neatly and secured the end with a metal clasp. “If you start to lose feeling in your toes, let me know, and I’ll loosen it.”

“Okay, thank you, Anh.”

“Ready to go?”

She nodded and dropped her legs over the edge of the bed, intending to stand, but again, he gathered her up in his arms and carried her out of the room.

“I can walk,” she whispered.