Rachel Brimble - Ethan's Daughter

It didn’t matter how much her logic told her to sprint for the front door. No part of her could leave the man hurt and bleeding.

She might want to right the wrongs of the world, be the best possible nurse she could, but considering the amount of violence and abuse she’d seen in her job, trusting a situation—a human being—at face value was a huge boulder she wasn’t likely to overcome anytime soon.

Handsome novelist or no handsome novelist.

For better or worse, she was knee-deep in a situation that her stubborn ass would see through to the end. Her work would always come first, and sooner rather than later, Ethan James would realize she owed him no favors, only her duty.

If he didn’t like that? Too bad.

He wouldn’t be the first man she’d annoyed through her commitment to the job. It was all that mattered to her. She strode purposefully into the kitchen. “Okay, then. Let’s get started.”

The weight of his gaze rested on her back as she walked to the kettle on the counter. Running water broke the silence as she filled the kettle before setting it to boil. Her mind raced. What would she say to him once he was stitched up and physically comfortable? She needed to know what had happened. She refused to leave Daisy in a potentially dangerous situation. He seemed far too calm to have disturbed an attempted burglary, far too calm to have undergone an assault by a complete stranger. Which meant he must have known his attacker.

There could be no other explanation. He didn’t want to go to the hospital. Either because his presence there would cause police attention to be directed on him or the person he could be protecting. Then again, he was a recluse. A famous novelist. Maybe he didn’t welcome unwanted attention of any sort...including Leah’s.

She turned and approached him. His gaze didn’t leave hers even as she sat beside him and pulled the chair close. Leah quickly pulled the first aid box and sewing kit toward her. He was a truly handsome man, but how could she trust he was an innocent party in whatever had caused the cut to his hand? She wouldn’t. At least, not yet.

“Okay.” She opened the boxes and scanned their contents. “There’s enough here for me to be able to stitch and bandage the wound. Before I do that, though, I’ll clean it and then numb the area. I’m going to need to wrap some ice in a cloth.”

He stood. “I’ll get it.”

She straightened and tipped her head back. The guy was tall. Nicely tall. “Sit. You’re not going to be able to wrap ice in a towel, not that I don’t appreciate you offering to help.”

He smiled softly. “This is kind of crazy, isn’t it?”

“That’s definitely one way to put it.” She inhaled a long breath and turned her detective skills on full blast. “But telling me what happened might help level out the crazy.”

His eyes shadowed and he shifted his focus to his hand. “Doesn’t that part come after I put Daisy to bed?”

She stared at his profile. He sounded on edge, but not snappishly so. Did he want to tell her? Did he need to tell her? “You can tell me what happened, you know. It doesn’t mean I’m going to freak out. I’ve seen all there is to see working in the ER.”

He raised his head. “It would be better all round if you stitched me up and forgot about me and Daisy.”

“I don’t think I can do that.”

His jaw tightened, but his gaze seemed to plead with her. “You have to. It’s for the best.”

“For who? You? Me? Daisy? Whatever you’re hiding is clearly dangerous, a threat to both you and her. I’m not prying. I care, okay? You look so...”

“What?” His eyes darkened with challenge. “Angry? Pissed? Afraid?”

She swallowed against the dryness in her throat. “Alone. You look alone.”

The silence stretched and Leah’s heart beat hard as his study darted over her face, lingered a moment at her mouth. Talk to me. Tell me what’s going on so I can decide what the hell I’m going to do about it.

When it was clear no revelation would be forthcoming anytime soon, she forced her concentration to his hand. There was something about this man and his daughter that had caught her. When she looked into their eyes, something unfathomable lingered. Almost as though she was meant to walk along that beach, meant to meet them...which was insane.

But she was still here. Still tending, nurturing, caring. And she would continue to do that until her duty was done. Walking away wasn’t an option.

She gently lowered his hand and eased back the dishcloth. “This is one nasty gash, but I’m going to do the best I can. I need you to walk with me to the sink. Okay?”

Supporting his injured hand, Leah cupped his elbow with her other hand, and together they progressed slowly to the sink. She turned on the tap. “This might sting a little.”

Carefully, she eased his hand forward, and the lukewarm water washed away the congealing blood to reveal the cut beneath. She leaned closer. “Good, the wound isn’t as deep as I thought. I can stitch you up, but the dressings are going to need changing every day until I can remove the stitching. I don’t want to risk infection, so I’ll pop back here after work tomorrow, if you like.”

“Here?”

The panic in his voice jolted her gaze to his. She sighed. “Yes, here, Mr. James. You’re my patient now and I’m willing to treat you at home...if I decide your reasons for not going to the hospital are reasonable and there’s no danger to your daughter.”

His jaw tightened. “There’s no danger to Daisy.”

“Why?”

“Because I’m her father and I won’t let anything happen to her.”

“I found her on the beach, Mr. James. I’m going to need more than that.”

“Ethan.”

Leah frowned. “What?”

His gaze bored into hers. “I think we’re past surnames, don’t you?”

Leah softly smiled. “I guess we are. Leah.”

His focus lingered on her face so intensely, she looked again to the wound, steadfastly fighting the sudden warmth in her stomach. He wasn’t to be trusted or liked...at least not until she knew the full story and was convinced he had no part in causing the violence that had clearly occurred before she arrived. He was a patient. A father to a young child, no less.

She guided his hand back under the water, tightening her grip slightly when he sucked in a breath. She gently traced the area around the wound with her finger. “Nice and steady. That’s it. Right, that should do it.” She turned off the tap and pulled some kitchen paper from the roll by the sink. She patted his hand dry. “Okay, back to the table while I sterilize a needle and some thread.”

She helped him sit down, inching up his elbow to keep the wound elevated, then opened the sewing kit and extracted a sharp needle and some thread. She studied both before glancing at Ethan.

He raised his eyebrows. “Will that work all right?”

Always fill the patient with confidence and ease. She plastered on a smile. “Absolutely. This will be no problem at all.”

She carried the needle and thread to the counter and poured boiling water into a saucer before submerging her makeshift suture equipment. Pretending not to feel his gaze on her, she took a clean dish towel from the pile beside the kettle and filled it with ice from the freezer.

“Here, press this firmly to the wound. If you can, make a fist. It’ll be freezing, but the number the area, the better. I’m going to check on Daisy.”

“Leah...”

“Yes?”

His eyes searched hers before he shook his head. “Nothing.”

Leah relaxed her tense shoulders. He wanted to talk to her; wanted to trust her. She was certain of it. That alone gave her reason to give the guy the benefit of the doubt. He was clearly nervous about something, and if she could, she’d help him. “I’ll be right back.”