Not that he really wanted to go, but he’d asked her to accompany him. On a date.
“I’d love to go to the Christmas party with you.” There wasn’t a man alive she’d rather attend with. Being at Dirk’s side would make the party all the more special, made everything all the more special.
Would he please turn around a moment so she could happy-dance around the kitchen?
Dirk had asked her to the Christmas party! Their morning hadn’t been a one-night stand after all. Er…a one-morning stand after all.
“Okay. Great.” He sounded relieved at her answer.
Had he thought she’d say no or was it the Christmas party itself stressing him? Either way, Dirk had just asked her to go on a date.
Thinking this just might be the best Christmas ever, she bubbled with good cheer and found herself wanting to tease a smile out of him. “Do I need to have my father’s Santa suit dry-cleaned or will you be providing your own wardrobe for the evening?”
He snorted, his mouth creeping up at the corners as she’d hoped. “You worry about what you’re going to wear, Li’l Miss Christmas Spirit. I’ll take care of my suit.”
“So long as it’s not green with pointy toes, Mr. Grinchy.”
He laughed. “Deal.”
They stared at each other long moments, so long Abby couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking, couldn’t help but wonder what had prompted his invitation. Was it possible that she wasn’t the only one with visions of more than sugar plums dancing through her dreams? Could he at this very moment want to whisk her off her feet and carry her back to her bed and have a repeat? Why bother going to the bedroom? Kitchens were always good for cooking up something hot.
He cleared his throat, coughed, shook his head a little. “See you tomorrow night at the hospital. Thanks again for the fudge.”
With that, he took his goodies and left.
Abby wrapped her arms around her apron-covered waist and danced around the kitchen while singing along with one of her favorite Christmas tunes.
She was going to the hospital Christmas party with the most amazing, sexy, wonderful man she’d ever met.
God, she loved Christmastime and if she wasn’t careful, she just might end up loving Dirk, too.
“Bay one has a probable UTI,” Abby told Dirk when he stepped out of the exam area where he’d just been seeing a patient in. “White blood cell count is twelve thousand, with neutrophils slightly elevated. There’s a trace of blood and plus four bacteria in the urine. The patient reports tenderness in the abdomen and in the mid-low back.”
Dirk nodded, without glancing directly at her.
Abby sighed. He’d seemed a bit distant tonight. She’d been dreaming of dashing through the snow like lovers with him ever since he’d issued his invitation to the Christmas party. Okay, before then. Way before then. She’d been dreaming of Dirk since the morning they’d ended up in bed together. Hadn’t she known not to get her hopes up after the way he’d dashed out of her house after they’d made love? But she just couldn’t seem to help herself where Dirk was concerned.
Reminding herself that she was a registered nurse, a professional, and on the job, she followed Dirk into the bay, telling herself to keep her mind—and eyes!—off the man in front of her, even if he did look fab-u-lous in his hospital-issue scrubs.
Obviously, he didn’t spend his days inside, baking. Not with the taut definition in his upper arms, the strength in his neck and shoulders, the taper of his waist, the…Abby gulped. Focus! He is not a Christmas package waiting for you to unwrap him. He’s a highly respected emergency physician.
But she’d really like to unwrap Dirk.
Focus! Focus! Focus!
“Hello, Mrs. Youngblood,” he greeted the thin lady with streaky brown-blond hair and pinched facial features. “The nurse was just telling me about your lab results. It appears you have a serious urinary-tract infection. Tell me what’s been going on.”
Dirk examined the patient while the lady told him of her symptoms, when they’d started and how they’d gotten much worse during the night to the point she’d decided she couldn’t wait until morning to check in with her primary care provider.
“No history of kidney stones?”
Mrs. Youngblood shook her head, her expression easing very little. “My husband has them, but I never have. Are they contagious?”
“No. You can’t catch kidney stones from another person.” Dirk pressed on her thin abdomen, attempting to palpate organs. “Any vaginal symptoms?”
“I don’t think so,” she denied, her hand guarding her belly as Dirk examined her. “It just really burns when I urinate. And feels like my bladder is going to turn inside out when I go, too.”
“Have the medications given since you’ve arrived helped?”
“Yes.” Although you sure couldn’t tell it by the woman’s grimace. “When I first got here I was miserable. The pain hasn’t completely eased, but I’m a lot better.”
Dirk washed his hands then turned to his patient. “I’m going to write a prescription for some antibiotics. You’ll need to follow up with your primary care provider within the next couple of days.” He began writing out orders. “Do you need a note for work?”
The woman shook her head. “I work from home as a medical billing clerk.”
“Great.” Dirk turned to Abby, meeting her eyes for the first time since they’d entered the room, and he smiled.
A real smile that reached those gorgeous blue eyes and pierced right into her heart.
Relief flooded Abby. Did he have any idea as to the lethalness of his smile? Probably. She soaked up every drop of his potency, letting the intensity of her emotions flow through her veins.
“Mrs. Youngblood,” he said, his gaze flicking back to his patient. “The nurse will get you ready for discharge. If you have any additional problems or get worse before morning, I’d suggest you return to the emergency department for a recheck.”
An hour later, the emergency department was in full swing. Every bay was full. Both physicians and the nurse practitioner on duty were at full stretch.
Abby adjusted a breathing mask over an asthma patient’s mouth and nose, preparing to administer a beta-agonist medication via a nebulizer to rapidly open up the restricted airways.
“You may feel a little shaky and jittery after the medication starts working,” she warned her patient. “The process that causes the bronchial tubes to dilate also speeds up the heart rate. Don’t let the reaction alarm you as that’s a natural and expected response to the medicine.”
She turned on the nebulizer and waited to make sure the patient’s wheezing slowed before she stepped out of the bay to check on her next patient.
Dirk was with him—a morbidly obese man who’d woken up with a sharp tightness in his chest that took his breath. They’d started him on meds immediately on arrival, done tests, including an EKG that showed left ventricular hypertrophy and a possible blockage. They’d stabilized him while awaiting the results of his cardiac enzyme tests.
“I read your chest X-ray, Mr. Lytle. Your heart is enlarged, showing signs of your high blood pressure and congestive heart failure, but that shouldn’t have caused you to wake up with chest pain. I don’t see anything acute on the films, but your troponin level is slightly elevated. That’s a myocardial muscle isoenzyme that elevates when the heart isn’t getting enough oxygen. I’m going to admit you to the cardiac-care unit for close observation. The cardiologist on call has been notified you’re here and will be by soon. He’ll schedule