Tempted By Her Single Dad Boss

It was upright and solidly strapped to various posts by four thick docking ropes. Someone was a clever-clogs.

“Right, boy. That’s the Flying Cod cinched in. You want to get these little ’uns on board and back to the island?” Salty nodded at the rope ladder one of the ferry’s crew had just flung their way.

“Absolutely.”

Alex pulled himself up and over the railing and ran. He only just managed to pull himself to a halt as the double doors at the back of the ambulance swung open.

The storm, the high-octane adrenaline that came with the insane rescue mission, Old Salty’s salty language...none of it had the impact she did.

Hair like spun gold and flames. The biggest pair of brown eyes he’d ever seen. There were probably flecks of gold in them if the light was right. Pitch-black lashes giving them that added visual punch. Cheeks pinked up with the cold or...hell, he didn’t know why a woman’s cheeks pinked up. All he knew was that he’d better get some oxygen back into his lungs so he could speak.

She had a rope on her shoulder coiled up like a lasso.

“Hope that’s not for me.”

Kicking himself would be a good option about now.

She gave him a sideways look and a quick up-down scan. “Could be if you play your cards right.”

Was he—? Were they—?

This wasn’t flirting, was it?

“We should get a move on.”

Nice one, Alex. Way to roll out the charm.

“Absolutely.” She gave him a bright smile. “We probably need all hands on deck—like a human chain—in case the sea goes all bouncy-bouncy on us again. Although that’s why we put up the guide lines.” They both turned and looked at the ropes holding the ambulance in place. He saw now that there were more ropes tied at a higher level, serving as hand grips.

“You did this?”

She shrugged as if tying a vehicle with two extremely injured children inside of it during a freak winter storm was an everyday sort of thing for her. “With help from the ambo team and the ferry crew. You’re Dr. Kirkland, right? Maggie Green.”

She put out a hand.

He ignored it.

There’d only been one other woman who’d sucker-punched him into sensory overload quite so fast and the only place he could visit her was at her graveside.

Maggie’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if trying to get the measure of him. She withdrew her hand and gave him a nod in a way that suggested she saw him for what he was. A man at war with himself.

That made a change. Most people thought he was an uptight stick-in-the-mud. Rules. Regulations. The world’s most boring man.

He wasn’t that guy.

He hadn’t been, at least.

“All right, doc?” Billy appeared from around the corner, pulling on a reflective waterproof with the Boston Harbor logo sewn onto the front.

A wave bashed the side of the ferry and threw them all off balance. Maggie fell forward from her perch in the ambulance door. Alex lunged forward, just managing to keep the pair of them upright.

His breath caught as she steadied herself, using his chest as an anchor. It was the first time he’d ever been grateful to be wearing five layers of clothes. Her hand on his bare chest? Just thinking about it shot his temperature up to the stratosphere.

Her eyes widened as they met his. A hot, intense connection froze the pair of them in place.

“You all right, you two?” Billy stepped forward.

As quickly as she’d fallen, Maggie pulled herself back into the ambulance doorway.

What the hell just happened there?

“Right.” Alex needlessly clapped his hands together. There was hardly a cast of thousands standing at attention. “Everyone we need here?”

Billy nodded. “Vicky, me, and Maggie, of course.”

As if he wasn’t aware of the flame-haired beauty who’d burst out of the ambulance like a film starlet ready to take the world by storm.

Billy pointed toward Salty’s boat. “There’re a couple of ferry crew over there by your fishing boat. Should be enough. A few passengers upstairs if we need ’em, but I would say they’re more hungover than helpful. We’ll take your lead.”

Alex’s years in the military kicked to the fore. He walked with Vicky and Billy toward Salty’s boat, issuing sharp, exacting instructions about how they’d load the twins onto the vessel using Maggie’s pre-established guidelines. He knew he sounded curt, like an automaton, but it helped blinker his thoughts. Right up until Maggie jumped down out of the cab and walked toward him. She was all legs and then some. From the tips of her high-profile athletic shoes to the farthest reach of her sprawl of flame-colored curls, she moved like a cross between a jungle cat and a supermodel, as if walking along an unsteady ferry deck with a storm raging around her was the most natural thing in the world.

“Dr. Kirkland? Where do you want me?”

All sorts of places it wouldn’t be appropriate to go into right now.

He shook his head. He felt like he was being invaded by an Alex he had never met before. One part Viking and one part Don Juan. In other words, one hundred percent opposite from the man he needed to be right now.

“Dr. Kirkland?” Maggie held up her hands and gave her fingers a wiggle. “Where do you want them and what do you want them doing?”

An explicit image of Maggie raking her colorful nails down his naked back blindsided him.

Her presence was more than distracting. She was lighting up all sorts of primal sensors he’d long thought were dead. Sparks and shocks were crackling against his insides as if someone was trying to start up an ice-cold truck in his privates.

He pulled off his hat again and scrubbed his hands through his hair. Half of him wanted to send her back to Boston on the bright yellow rescue boat he could see approaching at the far end of the ferry. The other half? He crushed the thoughts into the darkest corner of his brain he could find. He’d deal with that later.

“Stay with the ambo. We’ll sort out the swiftest transfer method and let you know when we need you.”

She pushed herself up to her full height, eyes flashing with something he couldn’t put a name to. Anger? Frustration?

“Listen here, Mr. Southern Drawl. That cute little accent and sexy hero act of yours isn’t going to work on me. I’m here to help, not stand around and look pretty.”

She did that all right. Without even trying.

Wait a minute. Sexy hero? Hardly. Work-focused single dad with about as much fun in his entire body as Maggie looked to have in her pinkie finger would be a better description. And a “cute” accent? Where he came from, all his accent did was ensure everyone knew he was from the wrong side of the tracks. It was why he’d joined the military. Which side of the tracks a person came from didn’t hold much sway on a battlefield.

Alex cleared his throat and readjusted his stance to that of commanding officer—a role he’d relinquished the day his wife had been killed. “Precisely why I need you to stay at the ambo. We’re loading the patients one by one. At my clinic we don’t leave juvenile, post-operative spinal injury patients on their own.”

What the—? Who’d drained his personality and refilled him with formaldehyde?