Dr. Charming

Odd, Gina thought. She had thought he would have found living in this run-down house in the back of beyond stultifying. Day after day of doing nothing. Going nowhere. Personally, she’d be a basket case after a few months of it. So why wasn’t he longing for a change?

“You like living here?” she asked curiously.

“I’m being driven out of my mind!” His vehemence shocked her. “And I can’t go back to work until my arm is healed. And even then, I’ll have to have physical therapy to regain the dexterity in my fingers. It’ll be at least another eight weeks before I can work again. Maybe longer.”

Always provided he did regain his manual dexterity. Nick swallowed on the cold metallic taste of fear clogging his throat. If there had been nerve damage…

He shoved his long fingers through his thick black hair, and Gina found her eyes following the movement. Wondering about the texture of his hair. Fantasizing about what it would feel like if she were to touch it.

“What exactly did you break?” She stared at the imposing cast that covered his right arm from wrist to elbow.

“My radius,” he said shortly, having no intention of telling her that it wasn’t just a simple break. That the bone had been fractured into eight pieces by a bullet. Telling her that would lead to other questions. Questions he didn’t want to answer.

“I see,” Gina said slowly, wondering what he’d been doing when he’d broken his arm. Skateboarding? Skiing? Riding a motorcycle? But despite her intense curiosity, his almost palatable withdrawal discouraged any more questions. And she most emphatically didn’t want him to start thinking of her as nosy. Regretfully she changed the subject.