To Play With Fire

And when she’d come...

Hell, she’d exploded within minutes, the sensation taking his body by storm and forcing an audible reaction from him that had left him shaken.

They’d been lucky none of the security guards had been around.

Maggie, on the other hand, had been totally silent. Because of the fear of discovery?

The urge to find out—to have her under him in more private circumstances—swept through his system like wildfire.

He rolled his eyes as he forced himself back to the present and stepped into the staff washroom. He scrubbed his hands and splashed his face, staring at himself in the mirror—and trying not to see Markinho reflected back at him.

Why had she gotten under his skin? Even during the surgery he’d been aware of her every move. Her every word. And when she’d used his name his senses had churned to life.

He had a feeling it wasn’t her use of his nickname that bothered him so much. It was what she’d said to the little girl in the operating room.

Marcos had a personal rule that pretty much governed everything he did. He never made promises he couldn’t keep. Rarely made them at all, in fact. Not after what had happened with his father. Hearing Maggie toss that word around with such ease—and to a child—without thinking of the repercussions had struck him as irresponsible.

He was being ridiculous. It was only surgery...a period of an hour and a half.

And if his patient had regained consciousness and found Maggie hadn’t kept her word?

He switched off the water and turned away from the mirror. Time to go talk to his patient’s family, although he had no doubt Maggie had already accompanied the girl to the recovery room and made sure she was settled in. If he knew her—which he didn’t, not at all—she’d also spoken with the mother and assured her everything was going to be okay.

Another promise that was impossible to keep.

What was wrong with him today? He didn’t normally brood on the past.

Maybe something about his new colleague brought it out in him—or perhaps it was those flashes of something that appeared behind her blue eyes periodically.

Sadness?

He’d thought it was fear the first time he’d kissed her. The look had taken him aback, made him wonder if he was acting like a brute.

Probably.

It was why he didn’t get involved with staff or any of the nurses. He didn’t want tales of his exploits making the rounds.

In fact, he would have stopped with a kiss that day in the car if Maggie hadn’t accepted his challenge to kiss him back and awoken something raw and primitive inside him. After that, neither of them had seemed able to halt what had happened.

Marcos huffed out a breath and left the restroom, irritated once again. He had to stop thinking about her. It was becoming almost an obsession. And he didn’t obsess about anything...or anyone.

Arriving at the waiting room and finding it empty, he stopped at the nurses’ desk. “My patient. Where is she?”

“Wh-which patient?”

The stuttered words drew him up short, making him think about Maggie’s reaction to him. Did he engender fear in everyone he came across?

Forcing a softer tone to his voice, he clarified, “Teresa Allen.”

The nurse tapped the keys of her computer and said, “Recovery room three.”

He strode away before stopping again with a frown. Turning back to the desk, he said, “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

There. At least she hadn’t stuttered that time.

Arriving at the recovery room, he found Maggie was indeed there, along with Teresa’s mother. He ignored her for the moment, going over to shake hands with the mom and saying in English, “I’m Dr. Pinheiro.”

“You’re the one who did the surgery?”

He glanced at where Maggie stood, chin elevated as if bracing herself for whatever he might say. He cursed his careless words in the operating room. “Actually, Dr. Pfeiffer and I both had a part in it. She’s already explained what we did?”

“Yes. The new shunt should be okay for a while?”

“For a long while, we hope.” He smiled at his patient, who’d drifted back to sleep. “Teresa has to lie flat for the next twenty-four hours, so she’ll need to stay here for another day or two.”

“Can I stay with her?”

“I don’t see why not. It might make her feel more secure to have you here. I can have a cot brought in.”

“Thank you.” They shook hands once again, and Maggie came over this time.

“You’ll let her know I was here?” she asked the mother.

“Yes. She’ll be happy to know that. Can you visit her tomorrow?”

Maggie reached out and hugged her. “Absolutely. I’ll see you later.”

With that she was out the door without a backwards glance at him.

Dammit.

He went after her, catching up to her within a few strides.

“Hey. Espere.”

Maggie stopped in her tracks, the sudden halt not making the slightest sound on the polished linoleum floor. She stayed put but didn’t look at him. He rounded her still form until he stood in front of her, ignoring everything around him as he stared down at her. When she finally glanced up, the cool indifference in the clear blue depths of her eyes was unmistakable, even to him.

An act? Or was she really not bothered by what he’d said to her? Either way, he owed her an apology.

“I’m sorry.” He touched the line of her jaw with his index finger, forcing it not to linger for more than a second on the softness he found there. “I overreacted a little while ago. Markinho is a childhood name. No one uses it.”

“One of your patients did.” Her soft voice spoke volumes.

He’d forgotten she’d overheard Graciela call him that a few days ago.

“She’s different.” He tried to think of a way to explain it that didn’t involve talking about his past. “I’ve known that particular patient for a very long time.”