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“Let’s grab a cab,” he suggests as he guides me closer to the street as light rain falls on us. “I’ll have you feeling better in no time.”
I know from experience he’s speaking the truth, but something tells me that tonight I won’t be coming on his hand. He’ll be using both to dress my wounds and check me for broken bones.
As he raises a hand in the air to hail a cab headed in our direction, I stare at his profile.
Dr. Morgan is coming home with me. I’m grateful for that since my heart is beating so hard against the wall of my chest that I fear half of Manhattan can hear it.
“You thought you knew him,didn’t you?” he blurts out as the cab driver winds his way through the heavy Friday evening traffic of Manhattan.
“The devil?” I ask.
A grin ghosts his mouth. “Yes, the devil.”
“I thought there was a chance he was someone I met on a dating app, not from the club.” My fingers trace the outline of the bottom of the mask I’m still wearing. I move to remove it, but he leans over to do that for me.
Hope blooms in my chest again because I want something to follow that move. Maybe a kiss, or a longing look in my eyes, but his gaze darts to my forehead.
He winces as he runs a fingertip over my skin. “You must have hit the pavement hard.”
I lean back slightly, feeling flushed from that faint touch. “I put out my arm to save my face. I think my bracelet is the culprit for the cut.”
His gaze drops to the fake diamond bracelet on my wrist.
“It’s karma,” I say with a burst of nervous laughter. “I stole the bracelet, so…”
“You stole the bracelet?” His expression softens. “It wasn’t worth the trouble. Those aren’t real diamonds.”
Why am I not surprised that he knows that?
I know fashion, to a limited degree, and the suit he’s wearing had a price tag with at least three zeroes attached to it.
“A friend back in Buffalo loaned it to me,” I explain, not wanting him to think I sneak around Manhattan committing robberies. “I forgot to give it back to her.”
He reaches toward me and I don’t move even though I know the intensity I’ll feel once his hand touches me.
His fingers brush against the clasp of the bracelet. “It looks like it’s barely hanging on. I think it broke when you fell.”
With little effort, he has the bracelet in his hand and then it disappears into the pocket of his suit jacket. “I’ll hold onto it so you don’t lose it.”
I should thank him for that and for rushing to help me tonight, but his attention is diverted to his phone when the sound of a chime fills the air.
As his fingers dance over the screen typing out a message, my gaze drifts to the window and the sights of the city as we pass through it on our way to my home.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Eloise
“You’rea fan of all things lavender.”
It’s a proclamation that has no basis in truth, so I shake my head. “My mom is. She gave me all those bath products last Christmas and then came here two weeks later to unpack them and stack them on those shelves in my bathroom.”
Dr. Morgan chuckles. “Sounds like a mom move.”
I nod. “Did you find the first aid kit?”
He holds up the white plastic box with a handle attached to it. “This is vintage. How long have you had this, lamb?”
The question gets buried beneath the endearment in my mind. I stare at him.
