Mount Mercy

“You’ll catch your death, you bloody eejit!” I leaned close to make sure I was heard over the wind. And that made it even harder because she was inches from me, looking like some sort of snow queen with all that soft, pale skin and those blue eyes. The stupid cap was gone and her hair had blown loose, plastered damply to her cheek and neck on one side, flying out on the other as the wind caught it. Without thinking, I pushed my fingers through it to comb it back off her ear so she could hear me better. And the feel of her, her skin so cold and her vivid, copper hair dusted with snow, damp against my warm fingers...she was just so fragile, so vulnerable….

I cursed and picked her up. Just scooped one arm under the backs of her legs and the other under her back and hoisted her up against my chest. That woke her up. “What are you—Corrigan!” she squeaked.

I ignored her. Carried her back through the automatic door and right to the center of the ER, out of the draft. And I tried not to think about the way she felt against me, the side of her breast pillowed against my pec. Dammit, Beckett….

I set her down and she staggered, huffing with indignation and blowing hair out of her face. People were looking at us and she didn’t seem to like being the center of attention. “You didn’t have to—”

“It’s too cold for messing around,” I told her. And I meant it. Even after just a few minutes, she was soaked through from the snow and her skin was bone white. Anyone caught outside in that weather would be dead in a matter of hours. I grabbed her hands and they were like blocks of ice. I pressed them between my palms to warm them.

I scowled at her and she glared at me, still trying to comb her damp hair back off her face. But now that she was out of danger, we were both calming down. Maybe I overreacted, picking her up. I didn’t regret it, though. She gave one last huff of anger, finally got her hair out of her face and—

And then we were gazing into each other’s eyes again. Damn you, woman. What am I going to do with you? My whole world seemed to narrow down to the little droplet of melted snow on her soft lower lip.

“Thank you,” she muttered.

“Didn’t want our only surgeon getting frostbitten fingers,” I told her.

“Thank you for staying, too.”

I wasn’t expecting that one. I tried to shrug and look away, but I couldn’t let go of those eyes. How was it that I could fool every other woman I met and not her? She said she was weird, but she asked the questions other people wouldn’t, the ones that cut straight through all my bullshit. I finally managed to break her gaze and looked down at my feet. “It was the right thing to do,” I said.

I let go of her hands. Then—I couldn’t stop myself—I brushed some of the snow out of her hair. And as soon as I touched her again, she gave this tiny little intake of breath and I had to pull my hands back and make fists or I would have just grabbed her and—

“Just be careful, Beckett!” I muttered. And walked away.

19

Amy

AS I STOOD THERE staring at his retreating back, Krista bounded up. “What was that? And don’t say you were just talking. Or that he ‘might be interested.’ If he was any more interested, you’d be pregnant.”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.” And it was the truth. Just that morning, he’d pushed me away, but when he’d looked at me just now, when he’d picked me up and carried me in, it was like I was the most important thing in his world. In the bar, I’d been one hundred percent, cast-iron sure that I wasn’t going to get involved with a cocky, shallow womanizer. Now the only thing I was sure of was that Dominic Corrigan wasn’t what he appeared.

* * *

The ER stayed blessedly quiet for most of the morning. We had a guy come in with whiplash after he’d run into another car in the snow and an old lady who’d gotten caught outside and was close to hypothermia. I just hoped it stayed that way. If we had traumas come in, if it became a mad, panicked rush... my insides contracted into a dark, cold ball at the thought. I didn’t belong in the ER. I was used to careful planning and precision. Having someone’s life in my hands and not having time to think... what if I screw up? What if I freeze?

I decided to operate on Rebecca’s leg while it was quiet. I sat by her bedside as Lina prepared the anesthetic.