About the Authors

TRACI DOUGLASS is a USA TODAY bestselling author of contemporary and paranormal romance. Her stories feature sizzling heroes full of dark humour, quick wit and major attitude, and heroines who are smart, tenacious, and always give as good as they get. She holds an MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University, and she loves animals, chocolate, coffee, hot British actors and sarcasm—not necessarily in that order.

JULIETTE HYLAND began crafting heroes and heroines in high school. She lives in Ohio, USA, with her Prince Charming, who has patiently listened to many rants regarding characters failing to follow their outline. When not working on fun and flirty happily-ever-afters, Juliette can be found spending time with her beautiful daughters, giant dogs, or sewing uneven stitches with her sewing machine.

Also by Traci Douglass

One Night with the Army Doc

Finding Her Forever Family

A Mistletoe Kiss for the Single Dad

A Weekend with Her Fake Fiancé

Also by Juliette Hyland

Unlocking the Ex-Army Doc’s Heart is Juliette Hyland’s debut title

Look out for more books from Juliette Hyland

Coming soon

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Their Hot Hawaiian Fling

Traci Douglass

Unlocking the Ex-Army Doc’s Heart

Juliette Hyland

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90247-6

THEIR HOT HAWAIIAN FLING & UNLOCKING THE EX-ARMY DOC’S HEART

Their Hot Hawaiian Fling © 2020 Traci Douglass Unlocking the Ex-Army Doc’s Heart © 2020 Juliette Hyland

Published in Great Britain 2020

by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF

All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.

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Table of Contents

Cover

About the Authors

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

Their Hot Hawaiian Fling

Back Cover Text

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

Unlocking the Ex-Army Doc’s Heart

Back Cover Text

Dedication

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ELEVEN

CHAPTER TWELVE

EPILOGUE

About the Publisher

Their Hot Hawaiian Fling

Traci Douglass

All’s fair in love and war...

...when passion explodes in paradise!

Having survived a horrific car accident as a teen, Dr. Leilani Kim has dedicated her life to saving others. Now her dream job as head of Emergency Medicine is finally in sight...but she has competition! In the form of scarred yet sexy trauma surgeon Dr. Holden Ross. And when their rivalry stirs a desire they can’t escape, Leilani and Holden will have to decide: Business...or pleasure?

May there always be warmth in your Hale, fish in your net, and Aloha in your heart.

Traditional Hawaiian Blessing

CHAPTER ONE

“SIR, CAN YOU tell me your name?” Dr. Leilani Kim asked as she shone a penlight to check her newest patient’s eyes. “Pupils equal and reactive. Sir, do you remember what happened? Can you tell me where you are?”

“Get that thing outta my face,” the man said, squinting, his words slightly slurred from whatever substance currently flooded his system. “I ain’t telling you my name. I know my rights.”

“How many fingers am I holding up?” she asked.

“Four.” He scowled. “How many am I holding up?”

She ignored his rude gesture and grabbed the stethoscope around her neck to check his vitals. “Pulse 110. Breathing normal. Blood pressure?”

“One-thirty over 96, Doc,” one of the nurses said from the other side of the bed.

“Find any ID at the accident scene?” Leilani asked over her shoulder to the EMTs standing near the door of the trauma bay. “Any idea what he’s on?”

“Cops got his license,” one of the EMTs said, a young woman name Janet. “His name’s Greg Chambers. According to the officer who ran his plates, he has a history of DUIs and a couple arrests for meth too.”

“Great.” It wasn’t, in fact, great. It was exhausting and brought up a lot of memories Leilani would just as soon forget, but that wouldn’t be professional, and she couldn’t afford to seem anything but perfect these days with the Emergency Medicine directorship up for grabs.

A quick check for signs of distress on the guy—airway, breathing, circulation—all seemed intact and normal. Next, she moved to palpate the patient’s torso and extremities. “Do you have pain anywhere other than your head, Mr. Chambers? Can you feel your arms and legs?”

“I feel you poking and prodding me, if that’s what you mean.” The guy groaned and raised a hand to the bandages covering his scalp. “My head hurts.”

“Smashing it into a windshield will do that,” Leilani said, finding no evidence of broken bones or internal bleeding on exam. She returned to his head wound. He was lucky. If only the people Leilani had loved most in the world had been so fortunate.

She blinked hard against the unwanted prickle of tears. Must be the exhaustion. Had to be. She never let her personal feelings interfere with her duties.

“Everything okay, Doc?” Pam, the nurse, asked while adjusting the patient’s heart monitor.

“Fine. Thanks.” Leilani gave her a curt nod, then turned to the paramedics again. “Any other casualties from the accident?”

“Other than the palm tree he hit at forty miles per hour?” Peter, the other EMT, said. “No. No other passengers or vehicles involved, thank goodness. When we arrived, the patient was standing outside his vehicle, texting on his phone. He took one look at us and complained of neck pain before collapsing on the ground claiming he couldn’t stand.”

“Where’s my truck?” Mr. Chambers grumbled.

“Your vehicle is a total loss, sir,” Leilani said, hackles rising. People died because idiots like this guy drove under the influence. She checked the laceration on his head.

“No!” He wrenched his arm away from the phlebotomist who’d arrived to take his blood. “You can’t take it without my consent. I know my rights.”

Energy and patience running low, Leilani fixed the man with a pointed stare. “You keep complaining about your rights, Mr. Chambers, but what about the rights of the other people on the road who just wanted to get home to their family and friends? You put innocent lives at risk driving while intoxicated. What about their rights?”

His chin jutted out. “Not my problem.”

It will be, if your test results come back positive, she thought, but didn’t say it out loud.

Leilani had dealt with her share of belligerent patients during her ten years working at Honolulu’s Ohana Medical Center, but this guy took the cake. She turned to Pam. “Call radiology and see if they can get him in for a stat skull X-ray, please. Also, we need a Chem Seven, tox screen and blood alcohol level.” Then, to the phlebotomist, “Strap his arm down if needed.”

“I’m no addict,” the guy yelled, trying to get up and setting off the alarms on the monitors. “Let me out of here.”

Several orderlies stepped forward to hold the guy down as Leilani recorded her findings in the patient’s file on her tablet.

“How much have you had to drink tonight, sir?” she asked, glancing up.

“Few beers,” the patient said, shrugging.

The scent of booze had been heavy on his breath, and Leilani raised a skeptical brow. Based on his delayed reaction times during her exam and his uncoordinated movements, he’d had way more than he was letting on. “And?”

“A couple shots of whiskey.”

“And?”

His lips went thin.

Right. Her simmering anger notched higher. The fact someone could be so reckless as to get behind the wheel when they were obviously impaired sent a fresh wave of furious adrenaline through her.

Movements stiff with tension, she set her tablet aside and returned to the bandages on the guy’s forehead, peeling them back to reveal a large bruise and several small cuts. She dictated her findings as she went. “On exam there are no obvious skull fractures. Several small lacerations to the forehead and a golf-ball-sized hematoma over the left eye. No obvious foreign bodies seen in the wounds, though we’ll need the X-rays to confirm. Sutures aren’t necessary, but Pam, can you please clean and dress this again.” She glanced over at the EMTs once more. “You said he hit the windshield?”

“Glass starred from the impact.”

“Okay. Let’s examine your spine next, Mr. Chambers.”

“No.” He attempted to climb off the bed again. “I want to go home.”

“You’re not going anywhere until I sign the discharge papers and the police release you from custody,” Leilani said, leveraging her weight to hold her uncooperative patient down. People always assumed because she was petite she couldn’t handle it if things got rough. What those same folks didn’t know was that she was an excellent kickboxer and had already survived way more hardship than most people faced in a lifetime. She was more than capable of fighting her own battles.

“Cops? Aw. Hell. No.” The patient gave Leilani a quick once-over. “What are you, ten?”

“Thirty-four, actually.” She opened his brace with one hand and carefully palpated his neck with the other, moving her fingers along his spine before cupping his head and turning it slowly from side to side. “No step-offs. Pam please order a stat spinal series as well, since he complained of difficulty walking at the accident scene. Mr. Chambers, were you wearing a seat belt at the time of the accident?”

“Nah. Don’t like them. Too confining.”

That was kind of the point. Seat belts saved lives. She was proof.

The phlebotomist finished drawing her last vial of blood, then placed a bandage on the patient’s arm. “I’ll get this right up to the lab, Dr. Kim.”

“Thanks.” Leilani picked up her tablet once more. “Patient has a possible concussion and will need observation for the next twenty-four hours. Pam, make sure the jail can accommodate that order.”

“Will do, Doc,” Pam said.

“I ain’t going to jail,” Mr. Chambers snarled.

“The police might think differently. You caused quite a bit of property damage, from what I’ve been told, and this isn’t your first offense.” Leilani rubbed the nape of her neck, her fingers brushing over the scar there. Twenty years since the accident that had changed her life forever, but the memories still brought a fresh wave of pain.

“Police are ready to question the patient whenever you’re finished, Dr. Kim,” Pam said, hiking her head toward the two uniformed officers standing just outside the door.

“Okay.” Leilani turned back to the patient. “Almost done, Mr. Chambers. Just a few more questions.”

“Not saying another word,” the man said, his scowl dark. “Told you I know my rights.”

“Anything I can help with, Dr. Kim?” a new voice said, deep and distracting as hell.

Leilani turned to see Dr. Holden Ross wedging his way between the cops and into the room as Pam was leaving to call in her orders. Ugh. Just what she didn’t need. The ER’s new locum tenens trauma surgeon barging into her case uninvited. He’d only been here a month, so perhaps he didn’t know any better, but it still irked her. She didn’t do well with people overstepping her boundaries. She’d worked hard to put up those walls over the years, both professionally and personally. Letting people too close only meant a world of hurt and trouble when they left. And in Leilani’s experience, everyone left eventually. Sometimes with no warning at all.

The fact his gorgeous smile filled her stomach with anxious butterflies had nothing to do with it.

She straightened and smoothed her hand down the front of her white lab coat, giving him a polite smile to cover her annoyance. “No. I’ve got it, thank you, Dr. Ross. Just finishing up.”

“Got something you can finish up right here, darlin’.” The patient shot her a lewd look and grabbed his crotch.

How charming. Not.

Holden’s expression quickly sharpened as he moved to the patient’s bedside, his limp drawing her attention once more. She wondered what had caused it before she could stop herself, though it was none of her business. His metal cane clinked against the bedside rails as he glared down into the drunken man’s face, his stern frown brimming with warning. “Show Dr. Kim some respect. She’s here to save your life.”

“I appreciate your concern, Dr. Ross,” Leilani said, clearing her throat. “But I’ve got this. I’m sure there are other patients for you to deal with.”

“Actually, I’m just coming on shift.” He leaned back, his gaze still locked on the patient. “Fill me in on this guy, so I can take over after you leave.”

Darn. He was right. Her shift was over soon, and she needed to get home and rest. Leilani looked over at her colleague again. Holden looked as fresh and bright as a new penny, while she probably looked as ragged as she felt. Add in the fact she seemed irrationally aware of his presence today—not just as a colleague, but as a man—and her stress levels skyrocketed.

The last thing she needed right now was an ill-advised attraction to her coworker.

Distracted, Leilani turned away to futz with her tablet. “What time is it now?”

“Quarter past six,” Holden said, moving around the bed to stand next to her. He propped a hip against the edge of the counter, using his cane to take the weight off his right leg. “Your shift ended fifteen minutes ago.”

The low hum of the automatic blood pressure cuff inflating on the patient’s arm filled the silence. Gossip was already flying amongst the staff about how handsome, intriguing Dr. Ross had ended up at Ohana. Everything from a bad breakup to a good recommendation from some powerful donors. There was one rumor, however, that concerned Leilani the most—that he’d come to their facility at the request of the hospital’s chief administrator, Dr. Helen King, and that he was in line for the same directorship she wanted.

Ugh. She shook off the thoughts. None of that mattered at present. She had a patient to deal with. Plus, it was silly to operate off rumor and conjecture. She was a woman of science; she dealt with facts and figures, concrete ideas. Nothing silly or scary like gossip or emotions. Acting on “what-if’s” and messy feelings could bring a person to their knees if they weren’t careful. Leilani should know.

Pam poked her head into the room again. “Sorry to interrupt, but Dr. Ross, there’s a new arrival for you. Female with abdominal pain for the last six hours.”

“Duty calls.” Holden held Leilani’s gaze a moment longer before pushing away from the counter to scan the tablet computer Pam handed him. Leilani found herself unable to stop watching him, darn it. Her curiosity about him was a mystery. Sure, he was charming and would’ve been just her type, with those dark good looks and soulful hazel eyes. Not to mention he was more than competent at his job, according to the residents on staff. Neither of those reasons was good enough to go poking around into things that were better left unexplored though. Besides, Dr. Ross would hopefully be gone once a suitable replacement for his position was found. Leilani’s life was here, in her native Hawaii, and right now her attention was on her career.

There’d be plenty of time for a personal life later.

Maybe.

Shaking off the odd pang of loneliness pinching her chest, she continued to complete her documentation while Holden rattled off his orders for Pam.

“Okay. Let’s start by running an HCG to make sure the new patient’s not pregnant, since she’s not had a hysterectomy,” Holden said, tapping his tablet screen several more times. “I’ve added a couple of additional tests as well to get things rolling.”

“Thanks, Dr. Ross.” Pam took the tablet and disappeared around the corner once more, leaving just the two of them and the patient in the trauma bay again.

Leilani stayed determined to power on through because that’s what she did. She was a survivor, in more ways than one. She swallowed hard and rubbed her neck again. The scars reminded her how life could change in a second. There was no time to waste.

Her patient’s snores filled the air and she shook the man gently awake. “Mr. Chambers? Can you tell me where you are?”

He squinted his eyes open and scrunched his nose. “Why are you asking me this crap?”

“Because you could have a concussion.” She glanced over at Holden and gave a resigned sigh. He obviously wasn’t going to leave until she shared the case details with him. Seemed he was as stubborn as she was. Not a good sign. After another resigned sigh, she ran through the details for him. “Single car MVA. Male, twenty-six years old, drove his pickup truck into a tree. Head struck windshield. Denies lack of consciousness. He’s alert and—”

“Let me go, dammit!” The patient flailed on the bed and clawed at the neck brace. “Get this thing off me!”

“Combative,” Leilani finished, giving Holden a look before returning her attention to Mr. Chambers. “Sir, tell me where you are, and I’ll get you something for the pain.”

He rattled off the hospital’s name, then held out his hand. “Where’s my OxyContin?”

“Acetaminophen on the way,” she countered, typing the order into her tablet and hitting Send.

“Hell no.” The patient struggled to sit up again. “Opioids. That’s what I want.”

Holden stepped nearer to the patient’s bedside again, his face pale. “Calm down, sir.”

“Go to hell!” The patient kicked hard, his foot making hard contact with Holden’s right thigh.

Holden cursed under his breath and grabbed his leg, “What’s he on?”

“Not sure yet. Definitely alcohol, but probably drugs too. Waiting on the tox screen results,” Leilani said, scanning her chart notes for an update and finding none yet. “Patient has a hematoma on his forehead and a few lacerations, as you can see. No palpable fractures to the neck or spine, no internal bleeding or injuries upon exam, though I’ve ordered X-rays to confirm. According to the EMTs, his head starred the windshield, so no air bags either. I’d guess the vehicle was too old.”

“Before 1999, then,” Holden murmured as he rubbed his thigh and winced.

“Before 1998,” Leilani corrected him. “Air bags were required in 1998.”

“Sorry to disagree, Dr. Kim, but I researched this during my time in Chicago. Air bags became mandatory in 1999 in the United States.”

“Then your research was wrong.” Leilani battled a rising tide of annoyance as her grip on her tablet tightened. She of all people should know when air bags became mandatory. The date was seared in her mind for eternity. “It was 1998. Trust me.”

“Why are we even arguing about this?” he asked, the irritation in his voice matching her own.

“I’m not arguing. I’m correcting you.”

“That would be fine if I was mistaken. Which I’m not.”

“I beg to differ. The date was September 1, 1998, to be exact.”

She squared her shoulders and held her ground, feeling a strange rush of both energy and attraction. No. Not attraction. She didn’t want to be attracted to this bullheaded man. Period. Still, her heart raced and her stomach fluttered despite her wishes. Must be the exhaustion. Had to be. She turned away, incensed, both at herself and Dr. Ross.

“The Intermodal Surface Transportation Efficiency Act of 1991 went into effect on September 1, 1998.”

Her words emerged in staccato fashion. Rude? Maybe, but then he’d been the one to insinuate himself into her case without asking. She did a quick internet search to prove her point, then held the evidence on screen before his face.

“See? Every truck and car sold in the US had to have air bags for the driver and front seat passenger.”

Holden scanned the information, then crossed his arms, the movement causing his toned biceps to bunch. Not that she was looking. Nope. He narrowed his gaze and studied her, far too perceptively for her comfort. “And you know all that verbatim why?”

Because they would’ve saved the lives of my family.

She swallowed hard and turned away, not about to share the most painful secrets of her past with a virtual stranger, even though some odd little niggle inside of her wanted to.

Gah! She must be way more tired than she’d originally thought. Sleep. That was what she needed. Sleep and food, because perhaps her blood sugar was low. That could explain her stumbling heart rate. Perhaps could even explain how she seemed hypersensitive to the heat and nearness of him now as they faced off over the span of a few feet. Might also explain her weird sensory hallucinations, like how the scent of his skin—soap and musk—seemed to surround her. Or the way her fingertips itched to touch the shadow of dark stubble just beneath the surface of his taut jaw.

Ugh. Leilani clenched her fists on the countertop, the weight of his stare still heavy behind her. He was waiting on her reply and didn’t appear to want to leave until he got it. Fine. No way would she tell him the truth, so she went with a half lie instead. “I watch a lot of documentaries.”

“Hmm.” He sounded thoroughly unconvinced. “I like those shows too, but that’s a lot of random facts to remember for no rea—”

“Radiology’s ready for your patient, Dr. Kim,” Pam said from the doorway, giving Leilani a much-needed reprieve.

“Thank you,” Leilani said as two techs wheeled Mr. Chambers out the door.

Holden still stood there though, watching her closely. “I’ll handle him when he’s done, Dr. Kim. Go home.”

“I’m fine, Dr. Ross.” Keeping her gaze averted, Leilani headed for the hallway, thankful to escape. “I’ve got plenty of paperwork to catch up on before I leave, so I’ll still be here to wrap up his case.”

Holden couldn’t understand the enigma that was Dr. Leilani Kim and it bothered him.

Figuring people out was kind of his thing these days. Or at least attempting to understand what made them work, before they did something completely unexpected, like shoot up a room full of innocent people.

Frustrated, he ran a hand through his hair before heading down the hall to check on his abdominal pain patient. Each step sent a fresh jolt of pain through his nerve endings, thanks to that kick from Dr. Kim’s patient.

He stopped at the nurses’ station to grab his tablet and give his right leg a rest. Honestly, he shouldn’t complain about the pain, since he was lucky to still be breathing, let alone walking, after an attacker’s bullet had shattered his right femur and nicked his femoral artery. He could have just as easily bled out on the floor of that Chicago ER, same as David...

No.

Thinking about that now would only take away his edge and he needed to stay sharp, with a twenty-four-hour shift looming ahead of him. Bad enough he still had that argument with Dr. Kim looping through his head. There was something about her excuse for knowing all those obscure facts about air bags that didn’t ring true. And sure, he loved documentaries as much as the next person—in fact, those things were like crack to an analytical nerd like himself—but even he couldn’t recite back all the information he’d learned in those films word for word like she had. It was odd. And intriguing. He’d had a good reason for discovering all that information, namely for an article he’d written for a medical journal. But her?

Not that he should care why she knew. And yet, he did. Way more than he should.

Irritated as much with himself as with her, he shook his head and pulled up his new patient’s file. The last thing he needed in his life was more puzzles. He already had more than enough to figure out. Like where he planned to live after his stint here in Hawaii was done. Like if he’d ever walk without a cane again. Like when the next attack might occur and if he’d be ready this time or if he’d become just another statistic on the news.

The area around the nurses’ station grew more crowded and Holden moved down the hall toward his patient’s room and open space. He didn’t do well with crowds these days. Preferred to keep to himself mostly, do his work, handle his cases, stay safe, stay out of the way and out of trouble. That was what he focused on most of the time. Which is what made his choice to charge into Dr. Kim’s trauma bay so strange. Usually, he wouldn’t intrude in another colleague’s case unless he’d been called for a consult, but then he’d overheard her arguing with her obviously intoxicated patient and something had smacked him hard in the chest, spurring him into that room before he’d even realized what he was doing.

Holden exhaled slowly and dug the tip of his cane into the shiny linoleum floor. His therapist back in Chicago probably would’ve said it was related to his anxiety from the shooting. After all, the gunman back in Chicago had been intoxicated too. He’d wanted opioids, just like Dr. Kim’s patient was demanding. There was a major difference this time though. No firearm.

He took another deep breath. Yes. That had to be it. Had to explain his weird fascination with finding out more about Dr. Leilani Kim too. The fact she was beautiful, all dark hair and dark eyes and curves for days on end—exactly his type, if he’d been looking—had nothing to do with it.

He definitely wasn’t looking.

It was simply the stress of being in a new place, and his posttrauma hypersensitivity to his surroundings. He’d only been here a month, after all. Yep. That was it. Never mind his instincts told him otherwise. Holden didn’t trust his instincts. Hadn’t for a year now.

Twelve months had passed since the attack on his ER in Chicago. Twelve months since he’d lost his best friend in a senseless act of violence. Twelve months since he’d failed to keep the people closest to him safe.

And why risk getting closer to anyone again when they could be lost so easily?

The tablet pinged with his patient’s results and he pulled them up, scrolling through the data. Pregnancy test negative. White blood cell count normal, though that didn’t necessarily rule out appendicitis. Amylase and lipase measurements within normal limits. Next steps—an ultrasound and manual exam.

“Hey, Pam?” he called down the hall. “Can you join me in Trauma Three for a pelvic?”

“Yep, just give me a sec to finish up calling the lab for Dr. Kim,” she said, holding her hand over the phone receiver.

He nodded, then leaned a shoulder against the wall to wait. Ohana Medical Center was relatively quiet, compared to the busy downtown ER he’d come from in Chicago. Back then he’d loved the constant hustle, but after the shooting, going back to work there had been too painful. So, he’d chosen the locum tenens route instead. And it was that choice that had eventually reunited him with his old friend, Dr. Helen King. In fact, she was the reason he’d ended up at Ohana. He owed her a debt he could never repay, but he’d wanted to try.

Which explained why he was here, in the middle of paradise, wondering how soon he could leave. Staying in one place too long didn’t suit him anymore. Staying put meant risking entanglements. Staying put too long made you vulnerable.

And if there was one thing Holden never wanted to be again, it was vulnerable.

A loud metal clang sounded down the hall and his senses immediately went on high alert, his mind throwing up reminders of a different ER, a different, dangerous situation. His best friend lying on the floor, bleeding out and Holden unable to stop it because of his own injuries. His chest squeezed tight and darkness crept into his peripheral vision as the anxiety took over.

No. Not here. Not now. Can’t do this. Won’t do this.

Pulse jackhammering and skin prickling, Holden turned toward the corner, trying to look busy so no one questioned why he was just standing there alone in the hall. He’d spent weeks after the attack learning how to cope with the flashbacks, the PTSD. Sometimes the shadows still won though, usually when he was tired or anxious. Considering he’d slept like crap the night before, he was both at the moment.

“Sorry for the holdup,” Pam said, near his side and breaking through his jumbled thoughts. “Things are a bit crazy right now, with tourist season and all.”

He nodded and hazarded a glance in her direction.

Her smile quickly dissolved into a frown at whatever she saw in his face. “You okay, Doc?”

It took him a moment to recover his voice, his response emerging more like a croak past his dry vocal cords. “Fine.” He cleared his throat and tried again, forcing a smile he didn’t quite feel. “Isn’t it always tourist season in Hawaii?”

“It is,” said another voice from the staff break room across the hall. Leilani. Crap. He’d been so distracted he’d not even seen her go in there. Adrenaline pounded through his blood. Had she seen his panic attack?

When she came out of the room though, she thankfully gave no indication she’d seen him acting strangely. She just walked past him and headed for the elevators as radiology wheeled out her inebriated patient.

The lingering tension inside Holden ratcheted higher as the patient continued to shout at the staff while they wheeled him back toward the trauma bay. “Pain meds! Now!”

Leilani headed behind the desk at the nurses’ station once more. “Let me check the images.”

Holden followed behind her, the pain in his leg taking a back seat to his need to prevent a possible calamity if her patient got out of hand again. He reached the nurses’ station just as Dr. Kim pulled up the patient’s images on the computer. “No embedded glass in his scalp, cervical vertebra appear normal. No damage to the spinal cord or—”

“I’m getting the hell out of here!” A jarring rip of Velcro sounded, followed by a resounding crack of plastic hitting the floor. “And I will take everyone down if I don’t get my meds!”

The cops still waiting near the doorway tensed and Holden’s heart lodged in his throat.

Oh God. Not again.

Undeterred, Leilani took off for the patient’s room. “Time to get this guy discharged.”

“Wait!” Holden grabbed her arm. “Don’t go in there.”

“That’s my patient, Dr. Ross.” She frowned, shaking off his hold. “Don’t tell me how to do my work. We need that bed and he’s cleared for discharge. He’s the cops’ problem now. Excuse me.”

She continued on down the hall, signaling to the officers to follow her into the room.

“I want my OxyContin!” Mr. Chambers yelled, followed by a string of curses.

Holden breathed deeply, forcing himself to stay calm, stay present, stay in control.

This isn’t Chicago. This patient doesn’t have a gun. There are police officers present. No one will get hurt.

From his vantage point, Holden saw the patient sitting up on the side of the bed, his neck brace on the floor. Leilani approached slowly, her voice low and calm.

“Your X-rays were all negative. We’re going to release you into police custody.”

“Already told you,” the patient said, teetering to his feet. “I ain’t talking to no cops.”

Time seemed to slow as Holden moved forward, his vision blurring with memories of the shooting. So much blood, so much chaos, so much wasted time and energy and life.

Breathe, man. Breathe.

The patient straightened, heading straight for Dr. Kim. The cops moved closer.

Her tone hardened. “I’d advise you to stay where you are for your own safety, sir.”

“My safety?” The patient sneered. “You threatening me?”

“Not a threat.” Leilani squared her shoulders. “Touching me would not be wise.”

“Wise?” The guy snorted, his expression lascivious. “C’mon and gimme some sugar.”

The cops placed their hands on their Tasers, saying in unison, “Stand down, sir.”

Holden rushed toward the room, his cane creaking under the strain. He couldn’t let this happen again, not on his watch. He couldn’t fail, wouldn’t fail.

Just as Holden shoved between the officers, the patient turned at the sudden commotion and swung. His fist collided hard with Holden’s jaw and pain surged through his teeth. He stumbled backward. The cops pulled their Tasers as the patient grabbed Dr. Kim’s ponytail. Fast as lightning, she swiveled to face Mr. Chambers, slamming her heel down on his instep until his grip on her hair loosened. Then, as he bent over and cursed, she kneed him twice in the groin. The guy crumbled to the ground and the cops took him into custody.

Over. It’s over.

Holden slumped against the wall as time sped back to normal.

While the cops handcuffed Mr. Chambers and read him his rights, Leilani rushed to Holden’s side. “You’re bleeding.”

Confused, he glanced down at his scrub shirt and saw a large splotch of scarlet. Then the ache in his jaw and teeth intensified, along with the taste of copper and salt in his mouth.

Damn.

“Here.” Leilani snatched a few gauze pads from a canister on the counter and handed them to him. “Looks like there’s a pretty deep gash on your lip and chin.” She leaned past him to call out into the hall. “Pam, can you set up an open room for suturing, please?”

“No, no.” He attempted to bat her hands away and straightened. “I can stitch myself up.”

He was a board-certified trauma surgeon, for God’s sake. Though as the adrenaline in his system burned away, it left him feeling a tad shaky. His lip pulsated with pain. At least it was a welcome distraction from the cramp in his thigh. “Seriously, I’ve got it.”

“Don’t be silly. It will be easier for someone else to stitch you up.” She tugged him out the door and down the hall to the nurses’ station once more. “Just let me sign off on Mr. Chambers first so they can get him out of here.”

While he waited, he blotted his throbbing mouth with the gauze pads and admitted she was right, much as he hated to do so. He was in no fit state to treat anyone at the moment, including himself. Which brought another problem to mind. “What about the abdominal patient?”

“Let the residents take it. That’s why they’re here.” Leilani finished her signing off on her discharge paperwork, then nudged Holden toward an empty exam room. Behind him, the cops hauled Mr. Chambers, still cursing and yelling, out to their waiting squad car.

Leilani led him into the room Pam had set up, then shut the door behind them. “Take a seat on the exam table and let me take a look at your lip.”

He did as she asked, allowing her to brush his hand aside and peek beneath the gauze pad. This close, her warmth surrounded him, as did her scent—jasmine and lily. A strange tingle in his blood intensified. It was far more unsettling and dangerous than any punch to the face. She moved closer still to examine his cut lip and he jerked away, alarmed.

“Don’t!” he said, then tried to backpedal at her concerned look. “I mean, ow.”

He turned away and she walked over to the suture kit set out along with a small vial of one percent lidocaine and a syringe on a wheeled metal tray. “The spilt is through the vermillion border, so no Dermabond or Steri-Strips. Sutures will give you the best result—otherwise it could pop open again.”

Holden stared at his reflection in the mirror nearby to distract himself, frustration and embarrassment curdling within him. He already felt like an idiot after getting punched by her patient. Having her sew him up too added insult to injury. Pain surged through his leg and he gripped the edge of the table.

“Any dizziness?” Leilani asked. “He hit you pretty hard.”

“No,” Holden lied. He still felt a bit light-headed, but that was more from anxiety than the blow to his face. Needing to burn off some excess energy, he slid off the table and moved to the nearby sink to splash cold water on his face. The chill helped clear his head and after drying off his face with paper towels, he plucked at his soiled scrub shirt. “I should change.”

“Hang on.” Leilani ran back out into the hall and returned with a clean scrub shirt a few moments later. “Here.”

“Thanks.” He limped behind the screen in the corner and stripped, tossing the bloodstained shirt on the floor before slipping on the clean one. It was too big and the V-neck kept slipping to the side, revealing the scar from his second bullet wound through his left shoulder. He fiddled with the stupid thing, glancing up to find Leilani watching him in the mirror on the wall.

He attempted to play off the awkwardness of the situation with a joke. “Checking me out?”

“No.” She looked away fast, but not before he spotted a flush of pink across her cheeks. His interest in her spiked again, despite his wishes to the contrary. She was his work colleague. Theirs was a professional relationship, pure and simple. Anything more was definitely off-limits. He made his way back to the exam table as she pulled on a pair of gloves, then filled a syringe with lidocaine.

“People can be unpredictable, can’t they?” Leilani said, jarring him back to reality. “Like Mr. Chambers. You think they’re going to do one thing, then they do something completely different. Lie down, please.” Reluctantly, he did as she asked. The sooner they got this over with, the better.

Leilani moved in beside him again and he did his best to ignore the heat of her penetrating through his cotton scrub shirt, the soft brush of her bare wrist against his skin as she stabilized his jaw for the injection. “Hold still and try to relax. This may burn a bit.”

“I know.” He did his best to relax and met her intent stare. “Hard being on the receiving end of treatment.”

She smiled and his pulse stumbled. “I understand, Dr. Ross. Doctors usually make the worst patients.” She leaned back, her gaze darting from his eyes to his left shoulder, then back again. “But you’ve obviously had treatment before.”

He swallowed hard and looked away, anxiety still shimmering like hot oil through his bloodstream. “Obviously.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to bring up a sore subject.” Her hand slipped from his jaw to rest on his sternum, her smile falling. “You’re tachycardic.”

“I’m fine,” he repeated, grasping her hand, intending to remove it from his person, but once her fingers were in his, he found himself unable to let go. Which was nuts. He didn’t want entanglements, didn’t want connections, and yet, here it was—in the last place he wanted to find one. Which only made his heart beat harder against his rib cage.

Get it together, man.

“Dr. Ross?” she asked, concern lighting her gaze. “Holden? Are you with me?”

The unfamiliar sound of his first name on her lips returned a modicum of his sanity. “Sorry. No, I’d rather not talk about my injuries. Bad memories.”

“Okay. No problem. I understand completely. I have a few of those memories myself.” Her calm tone, along with the understanding in her eyes, slowly brought his inner angst down to tolerable levels. She pulled her hand from his, then walked over to her tablet on the counter and tapped the screen. “How about some music? What kind do you like? Rock? Country? R & B?”

The change of subjects provided a welcome escape and he grabbed on to it with both hands. He stared up at the ceiling and couldn’t care less what she played, as long as it distracted him from the past and her weird effect on him. “Uh...whatever you like is fine.”

“Okay.” Ukulele music filled the air as she moved in beside him again, a twinkle in her dark gaze as she raised the syringe once more. “I know this situation is uncomfortable for you, Dr. Ross, but the sooner you let me get started, the faster it will be over. I’ll even make you a deal. Let me suture you up and I’ll take you to a real luau.”

“What?” He frowned up at her.

“A luau. You know, poi, Kalua pig, poke, lomi salmon, opihi, haupia and beer. The works. Plus, you might even get to see a genuine Don Ho impersonator.”

“Um...a genuine impersonator?” He gave her a confused look.

She laughed. “Yep. He’s the best on the island. Be a shame for you not to get the full Hawaiian experience while you’re here. Unless you’ve already been?”

No. He hadn’t been to a luau yet. Hadn’t really been anywhere on the island, other than the resort where he was staying and the hospital, to be honest. And sure, he’d planned to take in some sights while he was here, of course, including a luau, but he’d not really made any firm decisions. The fact she’d asked him now, both piqued his interest and set off all the warning bells in his head. “Are you asking me out on a date, Dr. Kim?”

“What?” She stepped back, looking nearly as alarmed as he felt. “No. I just felt bad because my patient punched you and wanted to make you more comfortable, that’s all.” That pretty pink color was back in her cheeks again, and damn if that unwanted interest in her didn’t flare higher.

This was bad. So, so bad.

Luckily, she shrugged and turned away, her tone chilly now. “But I certainly don’t want to give you the wrong impression. And I can see now that my asking was a mistake. Forget I mentioned it.”

Holden wanted nothing more than to do that, but it seemed he couldn’t. In fact, her invitation now buzzed inside his head like a bothersome fruit fly. He propped himself up on his elbows, feeling completely discombobulated. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“Same.” She glanced back at him over her shoulder. “I’m not even sure why I mentioned it, to be honest.”

The sincerity in her tone helped ease the tension slithering inside him and he lay down flat again, blinking at the ceiling. Seemed they were both rusty at this whole social interaction thing. “I haven’t really seen anything since I’ve been on the island.”

“I can give you some suggestions, if you like, since Honolulu’s my hometown. My parents own a hotel here,” she said, returning to his side, her gaze narrowed as she took his chin again and lifted the syringe. “Okay, here comes the burn.”

While the numbing medication took effect, Holden found himself reconsidering her offer. His therapist had told him during their last session back in Chicago that he needed to get out more. She could show him around, perhaps introduce him to some people, broaden his horizons. On a strictly professional basis, of course. Plus, spending more time with her should help lessen the strange heightened awareness he felt around her. Desensitization 101. Taken in those terms, accepting Leilani’s invitation made good sense. He blurted out his response before he could second-guess himself. “Okay.”

“Okay what?” She frowned down at him.

“Okay, we can go to a luau.” His words started to slur as the medication took effect, making his bottom lip ineffective. “Show me some sights too, if you have the time.”

Dr. Kim blinked down at him, looking as stunned as he felt. She seemed to consider it for a long moment before nodding. “Fine. But only as colleagues. Understood?”

He nodded, then exhaled slowly as he tapped his lip to make sure it was numb.

“Good.” Her quick smile brightened the room far more than he wished. “Now, no more talking until I get this done. Otherwise, I can’t guarantee this will heal symmetrical.”

She got to work and he closed his eyes, the better to block her out. He still couldn’t quite believe he’d said yes to her invitation. Part of him still wanted to get up and get the heck out of there, but the other part of him knew she was right. It was easier for someone else to stitch him up.

CHAPTER TWO

LEILANI STILL COULDN’T quite believe what had happened with Holden Ross. What had she been thinking, offering to take him sightseeing, let alone to a luau? Ugh. She didn’t date coworkers. Didn’t date anyone really these days, truth be told. Sure, she’d had relationships in the past, but nothing that had worked out long term. And the past six months or so, socializing had taken a back seat with the directorship position on the line.

But this wasn’t really socializing, was it? He was new in town and she was being hospitable, that’s all.

Like a good neighbor.

A neighbor you’d like to get to know a whole lot better.

Flustered, Leilani turned to face the counter.

This was so not like her to get all giddy over a man. Especially a potential rival for the job she wanted. Never mind there was something wildly compelling about him. Like the flash of panic in his eyes when she’d asked about his previous injuries.

Unfortunately, his reaction was all too relatable—the gut-wrenching terror, the uncertainty of being bruised and battered and broken and alone. If it hadn’t been for the kindness and patience and fast thinking of the medical staff the night of the accident, she wouldn’t be here today.

The old injury at the base of her neck ached again, reminding her of those who’d saved her, after the rest of her family had been lost. And that was probably exactly why she should be avoiding Holden Ross like the proverbial plague, instead of escorting him around her island as his tour guide. Maybe she could find some way out of it. Work usually gave ample excuses. There was bound to be a case or two requiring her assistance, right? Leilani ripped open the suture kit and pulled out a hemostat.

The music streaming from her tablet on the counter switched to a different song, this one slow and sweet and filled with yearning. Her own chest pinched slightly before she shoved the feeling away. She had nothing to yearn for. She had a great life. A good career. Adoptive parents who loved her and supported her decisions. A new house. A pet who adored her—U’i, her African gray parrot.

And sure, maybe sometimes she wished for someone special to share it all with. She’d get there when she was ready.

If you’re ever ready...

She was taking her time, that was all. Being cautious. Never mind she still woke up with nightmares from the accident sometimes. She’d get over it. All of it.

Someday.

“No one told me you’re a ninja,” Holden said, his words wonky due to his numb lip.

“Those skills come in handy more often than you know.” She opened a 6–0 suture and grabbed the curved needle with the hemostat to align the vermillion border with one stitch. Once that was done, she switched to a 5–0 absorbable suture for the rest. “Just four or five more then we’re done.”

“Internal?” he asked, though the word came out more like “ee-turtle.”

“No damage to the orbicularis oris muscle that I can see, so all external.” She tied off another stitch, then grabbed a couple more gauze strips off the tray, soaking them in saline before carefully pulling down his bottom lip. “Let me just check the inside to make sure there aren’t more lacerations hidden in there.”

The salt water dripped down his chin to the V-neck of his scrub shirt.

“Oops. Sorry.” Leilani grabbed a tissue from the tray and dabbed at the wet spot, doing her best not to notice his tanned skin and well-defined muscles. Sudden, unwanted images of her kissing from his neck to collarbone, then down his chest, lower still, made her mouth go dry...

“Dr. Kim?” Holden said, yanking her back to reality.

Oh God.

Mortified, she tossed the tissue back on the tray then gave him a too-bright smile. “Almost finished.”

He frowned, then looked away, the movement giving her another glimpse of the scar on his left shoulder. She gave herself a mental shake. His body and his wounds were none of her business. That was the exhaustion talking, making her nerves hum and her curiosity about him soar. She continued with the sutures, berating herself.

Focus, girl. Focus.

The song on her tablet switched again, this time to a sweeping, sexy guitar concerto.

Holden blinked up at the ceiling, looking anywhere but at her. “That’s pretty.”

“One of my favorites.” Leilani tied off another stitch then started on the next.

He waited until she was finished before asking, “Where’d you learn to fight?”

It took her a minute to figure out his slurred question. “Oh. You mean with Mr. Chambers? I kickbox. I’ve taken classes since I was fifteen.”

“Wow.” Then, out of the blue, he reached up and cupped her face. Her pulse stumbled.

“What are you doing, Dr. Ross?” she managed to squeak out.

“That guy pulled your hair hard,” Holden said, gently tilting her head to the side.

“I’m fine. Really.” Her breath hitched at the intensity of his gaze.

Oh goodness.

The romantic music washed around them, and unexpected heat gathered in her core. Not good. Not good at all.

Holden Ross was the last man she should get involved with. He was her colleague. He was strictly off-limits. He was far too tempting for her own good. Any connection she felt to him needed to be severed, any awareness currently scorching her blood needed to be doused. End of story. She couldn’t risk allowing him closer.

Can I?

Blood pounded in her ears and forbidden awareness zinged over her skin. She ignored the first and tamped down the last before forcing words past her suddenly dry throat. “Thank you, Dr. Ross. Now, let’s finish these stitches and get you on your way.”

“Holden,” he said.

“I’m sorry?” She held the needle poised over his lip for the last stitch.

“Call me Holden.”

“Okay.” Leilani placed her thumb on his chin to pull slight tension and her finger along his chiseled jawline to steady her hand.

“So, you’re native Hawaiian then?”

“Please try not to speak.” She sat back. “And yes. Born and raised. My parents own a resort in town.”

She could hear the sadness in her own voice and as perceptive as he was, she had no doubt he’d hear it too. Despite all the love and joy her adopted family had given her, part of her would always miss the ones who’d gone. The pain of the accident had never truly faded. Nor had the fear of losing someone else she cared for. She tied off the last stitch, then sat back with relief. “All done.”

He sat up and looked in the mirror on the wall again. “Nice job, Dr. Kim.”

“Thanks.” She began cleaning up from the procedure. “There are more clean scrub shirts on the rack in the hall, if you want to grab a different size.”

“Will do.” He grabbed his cane and limped toward the door, then turned back to her once more. “Thanks again.”

“No problem.” Leilani watched him walk away, feeling that riptide of interest tugging at her again and knowing that if she gave in, it could pull her right under. And drowning in the mysteries of Dr. Holden Ross was not part of her plans.

The following morning, after his shift, Holden drove his rental car through the streets of Honolulu toward the Malu Huna Resort and Spa, the steady, hypnotic beat of the windshield wipers almost putting him to sleep. His current residence was only fifteen minutes outside of downtown but driving in the rain after work wasn’t exactly his favorite thing.

He pulled into a handicapped parking spot near the entrance to the hotel then stared in through the front windows at the breakfast crowd filling the lobby of the resort. The unusual, crappy weather actually suited his mood far better than the cheerful tropical decor inside the place, but if he wanted to get to his room, he had to traverse the maze of tourists and guests filling the tables in the lobby.

After a deep breath, he cut the engine and grabbed his cane, before glancing at himself one last time in the mirror. The numbing medication in his lip had long since worn off and his lower jaw and into his teeth ached. Eating would be a joy for a while. Not that it mattered. He ate his meals alone in his room most of the time anyway, avoiding the other guests. No sense ruining everyone else’s time in paradise with his gloomy attitude.

With a sigh, he got out of the car, then hobbled toward the entrance, his head down to keep the rain off his face. The automatic doors swished open and a gust of warm air swept around him, scented with maple and bacon from the food-laden coffers of the all-you-can-eat buffet in the dining room. His traitorous stomach growled, but Holden didn’t stop to fill a plate. Just kept his eyes focused on the elevators ahead as he made a beeline through the lobby. Since the shooting, he had a hard time spending long periods with large groups of strangers. He found himself too distracted, always scanning the room for danger.

His therapist back in Chicago had urged him to build up his tolerance slowly. So far, Holden hadn’t tried that suggestion out, preferring his own company to constantly being on guard for the next attack.

Weaving through groups of tourists dressed in shorts and T-shirts and sandals, he felt more out of place than ever in his wrinkled scrubs, his name tag from work still pinned crookedly on the front pocket. He excused himself as he sidled by a quartet of women bedecked with leis and sun hats and nearly collided with a potted palm tree for his trouble.

The lobby of the Malu Huna looked like a cross between a Fantasy Island fever dream and a Disney movie in Holden’s estimation—with its rattan furniture, gauzy white curtains and golden pineapple design inlaid in the shiny tile floor. There was even a parrot behind the front desk, squawking at the people passing by. Holden glanced over at the bird as he waited for his elevator. An African gray, if he wasn’t mistaken. One of his roommates back in college had had one. Smart as a whip and quick learners. They’d had to be careful what they said around the bird because it picked up words like crazy, especially the bad ones.

Holden punched the up button again.

“Dr. Ross?” a voice called from across the lobby and his heart sank. The owner.

The elevator dinged and the doors whooshed open.

So close and yet so far.

He considered making a run for it but didn’t want to be rude.

Forcing a weary smile, he turned to face the Asian man who bustled over to him from the dining room. The shorter guy beamed up at him now, his brightly colored Hawaiian shirt all but glowing beneath the recessed overhead lighting. “Won’t you join us for breakfast?”

Holden glanced at the roomful of people and his stomach twisted hard. “Oh, I’m not really hungry.”

Once more, his stomach growled loud, proving him a liar.

The hotel owner raised a skeptical brow, his grin widening. “Your body says otherwise. Please, Dr. Ross? We’d love to show you our hospitality during your stay.” He gave Holden a quick once-over. “You look as if you could use a good meal. Come on.”

Before he could protest, the man took his arm and guided him across the lobby. Familiar panic vibrated through his bloodstream and he looked over the man’s head out the rain-streaked windows toward his car. It was only breakfast. He could do breakfast.

Sit. Eat. Talk.

Except the idea of making conversation with strangers made his spine kink.

Sure, he talked to patients all day long, but that was different. At the hospital, he had a plan, a specific purpose. Those things made it easier to shove his anxiety to the back of his mind. Small talk, however, required interest and energy, both of which Holden was running critically low on at the moment.

A year ago I could talk with anyone, party with the best of them.

But now, postattack, his social skills had vanished, leaving him feeling awkward and weak. He hated feeling weak. Weak meant vulnerable. And vulnerable was something Holden never wanted to be again.

He made one final valiant attempt at escape as the hotel owner dragged him thorough the dining room and a maze of packed tables. “Honestly, I can just order room service. I’m tired and grubby and probably won’t make good company anyway, Mr....?”

“Kim,” the man said, stopping before a table where two women sat. “Mr. Kim. But you can call me Joe. Please, sit down, Dr. Ross.”

“Holden,” he mumbled, staring at the woman across the table from him. Dr. Kim stared back, looking about as happy to see him as he was to see her. “Please, call me Holden.”

She’d mentioned her parents owned a hotel in town while she’d stitched him up, but he’d been so focused on ignoring her and all the uncomfortable things she made him feel, that he’d let it go in one ear and out the other.

Now he felt like an even bigger idiot than before. “Uh, hello again.”

“Hello,” she said, fiddling with the napkin in her lap. “Are you going to sit down?”

Sit. Yes. That sounded like a marvelous idea, especially since his thigh was cramping again. With less grace than usual, he pulled out the empty chair and slid into it, stretching out his aching leg as he hooked his cane over the back of his seat.

Mr. Kim, Joe, was still smiling at him, as was the woman beside him, presumably Mrs. Kim.

Trying his best to not flub up again, Holden extended his hand to the older woman. “Dr. Holden Ross. Pleasure to meet you.”

“Same.” Mrs. Kim’s dark gaze darted between Leilani and Holden. “You work with my daughter?”

“Yes. I’m filling in temporarily at Ohana Medical Center.” He sat back as a waitress set a glass of water in front of him. “Trauma surgery.”

“Excellent,” Mrs. Kim said. “You and Leilani must work together a lot then. Funny she’s never mentioned you.”

Leilani, who was quieter than he’d ever seen her before, stared down at her plate of food. “I’m sure I mentioned him, Mom.”

“He’ll have the buffet,” Joe said to the waitress, ordering for Holden. “And it’s on the house.”

“Sure thing, Mr. Kim,” the waitress said, walking away.

“No, no,” Holden protested. “I can get this. My locum tenens position comes with a food allowance, so...”

“Locum tenens?” Mrs. Kim said, leaning closer to him. “Tell me more about that, Dr. Ross. Sounds fascinating.”

“Holden, please,” he said, eyeing the crowded buffet table nearby and longing for the peace and quiet of his hotel room. “I...uh...”

“Hey, guys.” Leilani’s calm voice sliced through his panic. “Leave the poor man alone. He’s just worked a long shift. He needs coffee and a nap, not the third degree. Right, Dr. Ross?”

He swallowed hard and managed a nod.

Leilani poured him a cup of coffee from the carafe on the table and pushed it toward him. “Busy at the ER?”

“Yeah.” Talking about work helped relax him and as he stirred cream and sugar into his cup, he told them about the cases he’d seen and the funny stories he’d heard from the staff and soon he’d even answered the questions the Kim’s had asked him without locking up once. The whole time, he found himself meeting Leilani’s gaze across the table and marveling at the sense of peace he found there.

Whoa. Don’t get carried away there, cowboy.

His peace had nothing to do with Leilani Kim. That was absurd. They barely knew each other. It was the routine—talking about work—that calmed his nerves. Nothing else. Nope.

“Well, this has been fun,” Mrs. Kim said once he’d finished, pushing to her feet. “But my husband and I need to get back to work at the front desk.”

Joe looked confused for a minute before his wife gave him a pointed look. “Oh right. Yeah. We need to get to work. You kids stay and have fun. Lani, be sure to invite him to the luau next Friday.” He shook Holden’s hand again. “See you around the resort.”

Holden watched them walk away, then turned back to Leilani. “So, this is the resort your family owns?”

“Yes.” She gave him a flat look, then cocked her head toward the buffet. “Better get your food before they start tearing the buffet down.”

CHAPTER THREE

LEILANI EXHALED SLOWLY as Holden hobbled away toward the food line. If she’d left five minutes earlier, she would’ve missed her parents trying to play matchmaker again, this time with the last man on earth she should be interested in.

They were colleagues, for goodness’ sake. She didn’t date people from work.

No matter how intrigued she might be by Holden’s tall, dark and damaged persona.

Part of her wanted to get up and leave right then, but manners dictated she stay at least until he returned with his plate. They did have to work together, after all. She didn’t want things to be awkward—or more awkward than they already were—between them.

So, she’d wait until he got back to the table, then make her polite excuses and skedaddle. For once, Leilani was grateful for the long shift ahead of her at work. Twenty-four hours to keep her busy and away from dwelling more on her encounter the day before with Holden. But first, she planned to hit the gym for a good martial arts workout.

She rolled her stiff neck, then sipped her water. Even tired as she’d been, her sleep had been restless, her dreams filled with images of dealing with combative, intoxicated Mark Chambers again. Those moments then had quickly blurred into memories of the long-ago accident that had taken the lives of her parents and brother. Mixed in were flashes of Holden, changing his scrub shirt, the scar on his shoulder, the wary look in his warm hazel eyes as she’d stitched up his lip. The rough scrap of stubble on his jaw that she’d felt even through her gloves as she’d held his chin, the clean smell of shampoo from his hair, the throb of his heart beneath her palm as she’d dabbed the saline solution from his chest...

“So,” he said, shaking her from her thoughts as he straddled the chair across from her and set a plate of scrambled eggs, toast and bacon on the table in front of him. “You honestly don’t have to stay if you don’t want to. I can tell you’d like to leave.”

Leilani did her best to play it off. “Don’t be silly. I just have a busy day ahead.”

He sat back as the waitress returned to fill a cup of coffee for him. The server gave Holden a slow smile filled with promise and a strange jab of something stabbed Leilani’s chest. Not jealousy, because that would be insane. She had no reason to care if another woman flirted with Holden. He was a coworker, an acquaintance. That was it.

Holden continued to watch her as he stirred cream and sugar into his coffee, his gaze narrowed. His skeptical tone said he saw right through her flimsy excuse. “Well, don’t let me keep you. I wouldn’t be here either if your dad hadn’t dragged me in.”

She frowned at him. It was true she’d planned to leave soon enough, but that didn’t mean he shouldn’t want her to stay. A niggle of stubbornness bored into her gut, and she accepted a refill on her coffee from the waitress. At Holden’s raised brow she said, “I’ve got a few minutes.”

He took a huge bite of eggs and lowered his gaze. “Don’t stay on my account.”

“Are you always this jovial, Dr. Ross?” she snorted.

“No. Most of the time I eat alone in my room,” he said, devouring half a piece of bacon before glancing at her again. This time, his stoic expression cracked slightly into the hint of a smile. “Sorry. Out of practice with socializing.”

A pang of sympathy went through her before she could tamp it down. Seemed they were in the same boat there. She sipped her coffee while he finished off his plate, then sat back in his seat. ER doctors learned to eat fast, at least in Leilani’s experience, since you never knew when you’d be called out for the next emergency. Leilani wasn’t sure where he put all that food, since there didn’t appear to be an inch of spare flesh on him. A sudden, unwanted flash of him with his shirt off in the exam room flickered through her mind before she shook it off.

Nope. Not going there. Not at all.

With a sigh, she finished the rest of her coffee in one long swallow, then stood. “Right. Well, I really do need to go now. Have a nice rest of your day, Dr. Ross.”

Holden wiped his mouth with a napkin, then gave a small nod. “Your shift at the hospital doesn’t start until two. It’s only 9:00 a.m. now.”

“What?” Heat prickled her cheeks as he caught her in a lie. Outrage mixed with embarrassment inside her and came out in her blunt response. “I wasn’t aware my schedule was your concern, Dr. Ross.”

He downed another swig of coffee. “It’s not. Helen mentioned it earlier.”

At the reminder of Ohana’s head administrator, Leilani’s breath caught. Reason number one billion why she shouldn’t be spending any more time than was necessary with this man. Not with Holden potentially vying for the same job she wanted. “Dr. King told you my schedule? That seems odd.”

“Not really. She mentioned it in relation to some project she wants us both to work on.” Leilani opened her mouth to respond, but he held up a hand. “Before you ask, she didn’t give me any details yet. Said she wanted to discuss it with you first, as the acting director.” He exhaled slowly, his broad shoulders slumping a bit, and he gestured toward her empty chair. “Look, I’m sorry if I was grumpy before. Please, don’t rush off on my account. It’s actually kind of nice to have someone to talk to besides myself.”

Much as she hated to admit it, Leilani felt the same. Sure, she had friends and her parents, but they weren’t physicians. She couldn’t talk shop with them like she could another doctor. Not that she really planned to discuss cases with Holden Ross, unless a trauma surgeon’s skills were needed, but still. Torn between making her escape and being more enticed by his offer than she cared to admit, Leilani slowly took her seat again. “You don’t get out much?”

“No. Not since...” Holden’s voice trailed off, and that haunted expression ghosted over his face once more before he hid it behind his usual wall of stoicism. He cleared his throat. “Working locum tenens has a lot of advantages, but creating bonds and connections isn’t one of them. Maybe that’s why I like it so much.”

“Wow. That sounds a bit standoffish.”

“Not really.” He shook his head and frowned down into his cup. “Just smart.”

Huh. Leilani sat back and crossed her arms, studying him. Having been through a nightmare herself with the accident, she recognized the signs of past trauma all too well. Something horrible had definitely happened in his past—she just wasn’t sure what. Given his limp and the wound she’d spied on his left shoulder, she’d bet money a bullet had been involved. That was certainly enough to ruin anyone’s outlook on their fellow humans and relationships.

Before she could ask more though, he shifted his attention to the windows nearby and the gray, overcast day outside. “Does it rain a lot here?”

“Not really,” she said, the change in subject throwing her for a second. “But it’s March.”

“And March means rain?”

“In Honolulu, yes. It’s our rainiest month.” Leilani held up her hand when a server came around with a coffeepot again. Too much caffeine would upset her stomach. “Why?”

“Just interested in the island.” The same waitress from earlier stopped back to remove Holden’s dishes and slid a small piece of paper onto the table beside his mug. From what Leilani could see, it had the woman’s phone number on it. Holden seemed unfazed, taking the slip and tucking it into the pocket of his scrubs before reaching for the creamer again. The thought of him having a booty call with the server later made Leilani’s gut tighten. Which was stupid. He was free to see anyone he liked, as was she. She wasn’t a workaholic spinster, no matter what her parents might say to the contrary. Leilani had options when it came to men and dating. She was just picky, that’s all. She had standards.

Holden must’ve caught her watching him because he said, “I promised to check on the waitress’s son later. The kid’s got what sounds like strep throat.”

Uh-huh. Sure.

She managed not to roll her eyes through superhuman strength. His social life was of no concern to her. She flashed him a bland smile. “Nice of you.”

He shrugged. “So, what are you rushing off to this morning? If you don’t mind me asking.”

Her first response was a snarky one that yeah, she did mind. But then she caught a hint of that lonely sadness and wariness in his eyes again and she bit back those words. She didn’t want to get friendlier with Holden Ross, but darn if there wasn’t something about him that kept her in her seat and coming back for more. She could lie and make up a story, but what was the point? So she went with the truth instead. “I was going to do my daily workout.”

“Oh?” Holden perked up a little at that. “I’ve been meaning to try the hotel gym, but with my crazy schedule at work, haven’t made it there yet. Mind if I tag along, just to see where it is? Then I’ll leave you alone, I promise.”

Alarm bells went off in Leilani’s head. She already felt way more interested in this guy than was wise. Spending more time with him would only put her at risk of that interest boiling over into actually liking him and the last thing Leilani wanted was to open herself up to getting hurt again. Even the possibility of letting someone close to her heart, to be that vulnerable again, honestly filled her with abject terror.

“Let the man go with you, keiki,” her father said from where he was helping clean up a nearby table, and Leilani tensed. Jeez, they were really on snooping patrol today. “Show our guest the gym.”

She glanced over at her father and gave him a look. Her dad just shook his head and moved on to another section of tables to clean. They thought she was being ridiculous and maybe she was, but she needed to do things on her terms. Stay in control. Control was everything these days.

Holden chuckled and gulped more coffee. “Kiki?”

“Keiki,” she corrected him. “It means child in Hawaiian.”

Ever since they’d adopted her, the Kims had always called her that. First, because that’s what she’d been. A scared fourteen-year-old kid with an uncertain future. Now it was more of a pet name than anything.

Leilani exhaled slowly before pushing to her feet again, her good manners too ingrained to refuse. “Fine. If you want to come with me, you can. Get changed and meet me in the lobby in fifteen minutes. Don’t be late, Dr. Ross.”

Holden’s smile widened, his grateful tone chasing her from the restaurant. “Wouldn’t dream of it, Dr. Kim.”

The workout facilities at Malu Huna were much like the rest of the resort—clean, spacious and well-appointed—even if the decor was a bit much for his Midwestern sensibilities. More golden palm trees decorated the tile floor here and large murals of the famous Hawaiian sunsets bedecked the walls. There were neat rows of treadmills and stair-climbers, weight machines, stationary bikes and even a boxing area, complete with punching bags and thick mats on the floor.

Holden followed Leilani as she headed for those workout mats, her snug workout clothes clinging to her curves in all the right places. Not that he noticed. He was here to release some tension, not to ogle his colleague. No matter how pretty she was. It had been too long since he’d been with a woman, that was all. The slip of paper with the phone number the waitress had given him flashed in his mind. He hadn’t lied to Leilani earlier, but he hadn’t been entirely truthful either. He had spoken to the waitress a few days prior about her sick kid and offered to see him, but then the waitress had also asked him out. At the time, he’d declined because he’d been tired and busy and not up for company. But now, with loneliness gnawing at his gut again, maybe he should give the server’s invitation second thoughts.

Leilani strapped on a pair of boxing gloves, then turned to face him once more.

Holden stopped short. “Are you going to hit me?”

“Not unless you provoke me.” She raised a dark brow at him.

He snorted. “Remind me not to get on your bad side.”

“Don’t worry. I will.” She grinned, then turned to face the heavy bag. “Well, this is the gym. Enjoy your workout.”

Looking around, he considered his options. Treadmill was out, with his leg. So were the stair-climbers as they put too much pressure on his still-healing muscles. Stationary bike it was then. He hobbled over and climbed onto one, setting his course to the most difficult one, and began to pedal. Soon his heart was pumping fast, and sweat slicked his face and chest, and he felt the glorious rush of endorphins that always came with a hard workout. Near the end of his course, Holden glanced over to where he’d left Leilani on the mats and found her working through what looked like kickboxing moves with the punching bag.

Her long hair was piled up in a messy bun atop her head now and her face was flushed from exertion. Her toned arms and back glistened with perspiration beneath the overhead lights as she walloped the heavy bag over and over again. Jab, hook, cross, uppercut. Sweep, cross, kick. Jab, cross, slip. Front kick, back kick. Roundhouse kick. Repeat. Holden found himself entranced.

Once his bike program was done, he moved back over to where she was still dancing around the bag, her movements as coordinated and graceful as any prima ballerina. Even the hot pink boxing gloves didn’t detract from Leilani’s powerful stance. She looked ready to kick butt and take names. On second thought, just forget the names.

His gaze followed her fists driving hard into the bag. Then he couldn’t help continuing to track down her torso to her waist and hips landing finally on her taut butt in those black leggings.

Whoa, boy.

Yep. Dr. Leilani Kim wasn’t just pretty. She was gorgeous, no doubt about that. He glanced back up to find her staring at him, her expression flat.

Oops. Busted.

“You know how to fight,” he said, for lack of anything better.

She steadied the swinging bag, then punched one glove into the other, blinking at him. “I do. Very well. Years of training, remember? I’m not afraid to use those skills either.”

“I remember you taking down that patient. Don’t worry. Point taken.” Holden stepped back and chuckled. Back before the shooting he’d been into boxing himself, but he hadn’t tried since his injury. He turned to head back to his bike but stopped at the sound of her voice.

“You box?”

“I used to,” Holden said, looking back at her over his shoulder. He gestured to his right leg. “Haven’t since this though.”

“Want to give it a try now?” she asked, tapping the tips of her gloves together. “Be my sparring partner?” Her gaze dipped to his cane then back to his eyes. “I’ll take it easy on you.”

Whether or not she’d meant that as a challenge didn’t matter. He took it as one. The pair of black boxing gloves she tossed in his direction helped too. He caught them one-handed, then narrowed his gaze on her. For the first time in a long time, he wanted to take a chance and burn off a little steam. “Fine.”

He strapped on the gloves, then moved back over, setting his cane aside before climbing atop the mat to stand beside Leilani.

“We can stick to bag work, if it’s easier on your leg.”

“Sparring’s fine.” He finished closing the Velcro straps around his wrists, then punched his fists together. “Unless you’re scared to face off against me?” His tone was teasing. It felt easy to tease her. He didn’t want to think about why.

Leilani snorted. “Right. You think you can take me?”

“I think you talk big, but you look pretty small.”

“Them’s fighting words, mister.” She moved several feet away and faced him before bending her knees and holding her gloves up in front of her face. “All right, Dr. Ross. Show me what you got.”

Holden smiled, a genuine one this time, enjoying himself more than he had in a long, long time. “My pleasure, Dr. Kim.”

They moved in a small circle on the mat, dodging each other and assessing their opponent. Then, fast as lightning, Leilani struck, landing a solid punch to his chest. He gave her a stunned look and she laughed. “Figured you already had a split lip. Didn’t want to damage that handsome face of yours any further.”

That stopped him in his tracks.

She thinks I’m handsome?

The reality of her words must’ve struck Leilani too because the flush in her cheeks grew and she looked away from him. “I mean, I’m taking pity on you. That’s all.”

Pity. If there was one word sure to set Holden off, it was that one.

All thought of keeping away from Leilani Kim went out the window as he went in for the attack. Apparently still distracted by what she’d said, she didn’t react fast enough when he charged toward her and swept his good leg out to knock her feet from under her. Of course, the movement unbalanced him as well, and before Holden knew it, they were both flat on the mat, panting as they tried to catch their breaths in a tangle of limbs.

He managed to recover first, rising on one arm to lean over her. “I don’t need your pity, Dr. Kim.”

She blinked up at him a moment, then gave a curt nod. “Understood.”

“Good.” He pushed away to remove one of his gloves and rake a hand through his sweat-damp hair. “Are you all right?”

“Other than my pride, yes.” She sat up next to him and removed her gloves too, several strands of her long, dark hair loose now and curling around her flushed face. “I didn’t mean to insult you with what I said, by the way. It was just trash-talking.”

“I know.” He released a pent-up breath, then wiped off his forehead with the edge of his gray Ohana Medical T-shirt. “The whole pity thing is still a touchy subject for me though, with my leg and all.”

“Sorry. I should’ve realized.” She got up and walked over to a small fridge against the wall to pull out two bottles of water, then returned to hand him one. Leilani sat back down on the mat and cracked open her water. “What exactly happened, if you don’t mind me asking?”

He gulped down half his bottle of water before answering, hoping to wash away the lump of anxiety that still rose every time someone asked about his injury. He did mind, usually, but today felt different. Maybe because they were the only ones in the gym, and that lent a certain air of intimacy. Through the windows across the room, he could see a bit of the gloom outside had lifted and weak rays of sunshine beamed in. Maybe it was time to let some of his past out of the bag, at least a little. He shrugged and fiddled with his gloves once more. “I got shot. Shattered my femur.”

“Yikes. That’s awful.” Leilani grabbed the white towel she’d tossed on the floor nearby when they’d first arrived and wiped off her face. He glanced sideways at her and did his best not to notice the small bead of sweat tickling down the side of her throat. Tried to stop the sudden thought of how salty that might taste, how warm her skin might be against his tongue.

Wait. What?

He looked away fast as she wrapped the towel around her neck, then faced him once more.

“So,” she said, her clear tone cutting through the roar of blood pounding in his ears, not from anxiety this time, but from unexpected, unwanted lust. “Is that when you took the bullet to your shoulder as well?”

Holden nodded, not trusting his voice at present, then drank more water. He didn’t want Leilani Kim. Not that way. She was his coworker. She was just being nice. She was drinking her water too, drawing his attention to the sleek muscles of her throat as they worked, the pound of the pulse point at the base of her neck, the curve of her breasts in that tight sports bra.

Oh God.

Move. He needed to move. He started to get to his feet, but Leilani stopped him with a hand on his arm. “I’m sorry that happened to you. I know what it’s like to be in a situation where you feel helpless and alone.”

The hint of pain in her tone stunned him into staying put. From what he could see, she’d had a fairy-tale life here in paradise, raised in this wedding cake of a hotel.

“How’s that? And please, call me Holden,” he said, more curious than ever about this enigmatic, beautiful woman. To try to lighten the mood, he cracked a joke. “You get hit by a pineapple on the way to surf the waves?”

Her small smile fell and it felt like the brightening room darkened. She shook her head and looked away. “No. More like hit by a truck and spent six months in the hospital.”

“Oh.” For a second, Holden just took that in, unsure what else to say. Of course, his analytical mind wanted to know more, demanded details, but he didn’t feel comfortable enough to do so. Finally, he managed, “I had no idea.”

“No. Most people don’t.” She sighed and rolled her neck, reaching back to rub her nape again, same as she had the other day in the ER with that combative patient. Then she stood and started gathering her things. “Well, I should go get ready for work.”

Of all people, Holden knew a retreat when he saw one. He got up as well, reaching for his cane to take the weight off his now-aching leg. Doing that foot sweep on Leilani hadn’t been the most genius move ever, even if his whole side now tingled from the feel of her body briefly pressed to his.

He grabbed his water bottle and limped after her toward the exit, pausing to hold the door for her. Before walking out himself, he looked over toward the windows across the gym one last time. “Hey, the sun’s out again.”

Leilani glanced in the same direction, then gave him a tiny grin. “Funny how that works, huh? Wait long enough and it always comes back out. See you around, Holden.”

“Bye, Dr. Kim,” he said, watching her walk away, then stop at the end of the hall and turn back to him.

“Leilani,” she called. “Anyone who leg-sweeps me gets to be on a first-name basis.”

CHAPTER FOUR

THE ER AT Ohana Medical Center was hopping the following Wednesday and Leilani was in her element. She was halfway through a twelve-hour shift, and so far she’d dealt with four broken limbs, one case of appendicitis that she’d passed on to a gastro surgeon for removal, and two box jellyfish stings that had required treatment beyond the normal vinegar rinse and ice. The full moon was Friday and that’s when the jellyfish population tended to increase near the beaches to mate. There weren’t any official warnings posted yet, according to the patient’s husband, but that didn’t mean there weren’t jellyfish present. They were a year-round hazard in Hawaii.

So yeah, a typical day in the neighborhood.

Leilani liked being busy though. That’s what made emergency medicine such a good fit for her. Kept her out of trouble, as her parents always said.

Trouble like thinking about that gym encounter with Holden Ross the week prior.

She suppressed a shiver that ran through her at the memory of his hard body pressed against hers on that mat, the heat of him going through her like a bolt of lightning, making her imagine things that were completely off-limits as far as her colleague was concerned.

Since that day, they’d passed each other a few times in the halls, both at the hospital and at the hotel, but hadn’t really said more than a friendly greeting. Just as well, since time hadn’t seemed to lessen the tingling that passed through her nerve endings whenever he was near. In fact, if anything, the fact they’d taken a tumble on that mat together only seemed to intensify her awareness of him. Which probably explained why she was still hung up on the whole thing. Leilani tried never to let her guard down but Holden had somehow managed to get around her usual barriers.

Boundaries were key to her maintaining control. And control required no distractions.

Distractions led to accidents and accidents led to...

Shaking off the unwanted stab of sorrow in her heart, she concentrated on the notes she was currently typing into her tablet computer at the nurses’ station. The EMTs had just radioed in with another patient headed their way and she wanted to get caught up as much as possible before taking on another case.

As she documented her treatment for the latest jellyfish sting patient—visible tentacles removed from sting site, antihistamine for mild allergic reaction, hydrocortisone cream for itching and swelling, ice packs as needed—she half listened to the commotion around her for news of the EMTs arrival with her next patient. She’d just closed out the file she’d been working on when the voice of the sister of one of her earlier patients, a guy who’d broken his arm while hiking near the Diamond Head Crater, broke through her thoughts.

“Doctor?” the woman said, coming down the hall. “I need to ask you something.”

Leilani glanced over, ready to answer whatever questions the woman had, then stopped short as the woman headed straight past her and made a beeline for Holden, who’d just come out of an exam room.

He glanced up at the buxom blonde and blinked several times. “How can I help you, ma’am?”

“My brother was in here earlier and I’m concerned he won’t take the prescription they gave him correctly, even after the other doctor explained it to him. She was Hawaiian, I think, and—”

“Dr. Kim is the head of Emergency Medicine. I’m sure the instructions she gave him were clear.” Holden searched the area and locked eyes with Leilani. “But if you still have concerns, let’s go see if she has a few moments to talk to you again, Mrs....?”

“Darla,” the woman said, batting her eyelashes and grinning wide.

Leilani bit back a snicker at her flagrant flirting.

“And it’s Miss. I’m single. Besides, I’m old-fashioned and prefer a male doctor.”

Holden’s expression shifted from confused to cornered in about two seconds flat. Darla didn’t want medical advice. She wanted a date. Leilani would’ve laughed out loud at his obvious discomfort if there wasn’t a strange niggle eating into her core. Not jealousy because that would be stupid. She had no reason to care if anybody flirted with Holden. It was none of her business. And it wasn’t like men hadn’t tried to flirt with Leilani in the ER either. It was another occupational hazard. No, what should have bothered her more was the woman doubting her medical expertise. Shoulders squared, she raised a brow and waited for their approach.

Holden cleared his throat and stepped around Darla to head to the nurses’ station and Leilani. “Dr. Kim is one of the best physicians I’ve worked with. She’s the person to advise you and your brother on his medications, as she’s familiar with his case.” He stopped beside Leilani at the desk, tiny dots of crimson staining his high cheekbones. “Dr. Kim, this lady has more questions about her brother’s prescription.”

Leilani gave him a curt nod, then proceeded to go over the same information she’d given to Darla’s brother an hour prior. Steroids weren’t exactly rocket science, and from the way the woman continued to focus on Holden’s backside and not Leilani, it seemed Darla could have cared less anyway. Finally, Darla went on her way and Leilani exhaled slowly as the EMTs radioed in their ETA of one minute.

Showtime.

Refocusing quickly, she grabbed a fresh gown and mask from the rack nearby and suited up, aware of Holden’s gaze on her as she did so. Her skin prickled under the weight of his stare, but she shook it off. The incoming patient needed her undivided attention, not Dr. Ross.

“What’s the new case?” Holden asked, handing his tablet back to the nurse behind the desk. “Need help?”

“Maybe,” Leilani said, tying the mask around her neck. “Stick close by just in case.”

“Will do.” He took a gown and mask for himself, then followed her down the hall to the automatic doors leading in from the ambulance bay. His presence beside her felt oddly reassuring, which only rattled her more. She was used to handling things on her own. Safe, secure, solo. That’s how she liked it.

Isn’t it?

Too late to stew about it now. The doors swished open and the EMTs rushed in with a young man on a gurney. Leilani raced down the hall next to the patient as the EMT in charge gave her a rundown.

“Eighteen-year-old male surfer struck in the neck by his surfboard,” the paramedic said. “Difficulty breathing that’s worsened over time.”

They raced into trauma bay two and Leilani moved in to examine the patient, who was gasping like a fish out of water. “Sir, can you speak? Does it feel like your throat is closing?”

The kid nodded, his eyes wide with panic.

“Okay,” Leilani said, keeping her voice calm. “Is it hard to breathe right now?”

The patient nodded again.

“Are you nodding because it hurts to talk or because you can’t?” Holden asked, moving in on the other side of the bed once the EMTs got the patient moved from the gurney.

“I...” the kid rasped. “C-can’t.”

“No intubation, then,” Holden said, holding up a hand to stop the nurse with the tracheal tube. “Dr. Kim, would you like me to consult?”

Nice. The other trauma surgeons on staff usually just commandeered a case, rarely asking for Leilani’s permission to intercede. Having Holden do so now was refreshing, especially since she’d asked him to stick close by earlier. It showed a level of professional respect that she liked a lot. Plus, it would give her a chance to see firsthand how he handled himself with patients. For weeks now, the nurses had been praising his bedside manner and coolness under pressure. About time Leilani got to see what she was up against if they were both vying for the directorship.

“Yes, please, Dr. Ross.” She grabbed an oxygen tube to insert into the kid’s nose to help his respiration. “Okay, sir. Breathe in through your nose. Good. One more time.”

The kid gasped again. “I c-can’t.”

Leilani placed her hand on his shoulder. “You’re doing fine. I know it hurts.”

Holden finished his exam then stepped back to speak to relay orders to the nurse taking the patient’s vitals. “We need a CTA of his neck and X-rays, please. Depending on what those show, I may need to do a fiber-optic thoracoscopy. Call ENT for a consult as well, please.”

“Where’s my son?” a man’s voice shouted from out in the hall. “Please let me see him!”

After signing off on the orders, Holden moved aside to let the techs roll the patient out of the trauma room, then grabbed Leilani to go speak to the father. “Sir, your son was injured while surfing,” Holden said, after pulling down his mask. “He’s getting the best care possible between myself and Dr. Kim. Can you tell me your son’s name?”

“Tommy,” the man said. “Tommy Schrader. I’m his father, Bill Schrader.”

“Thank you, Mr. Schrader.” Leilani led the man down the hall to a private waiting room while Holden headed off with the team to complete the tests on the patient. “Let’s have a seat in here.”

“Will my boy be all right?” Mr. Schrader asked. “What’s happened to him?”

“From what the EMTs said when they brought your son in, Tommy was surfing and was struck in the throat by his surfboard. He’s got some swelling in his neck and is having trouble breathing.” It was obvious the man cared deeply for his son and it was always hard to give difficult news to loved ones. In her case, they’d had to sedate her after delivering the news about her family’s deaths. At least Tommy was still alive and getting the treatment he needed.

“When I got the call from the police, I panicked. I told Tommy the surf was too rough today, but he didn’t listen.” Mr. Schrader scrubbed his hand over his haggard face. “All kinds of crazy things went through my mind. I’ve never been so scared in all my life.”

“Completely understandable, Mr. Schrader. But please know we’re doing all we can, and we’ll keep you updated on his progress as soon as we know more. They’re doing X-rays and a CT scan on him now to determine the extent of damage and the next steps for treatment.” She patted the man’s shoulder, then stood. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“No, no. I’m good. I just want to know my son will be okay.”

“He’s in the best hands possible,” Leilani said. “Let me go check on his status again and I’ll be right back.”

“Thank you,” Mr. Schrader said. “I’m sorry I don’t know your name.”

“Dr. Kim.” She gave him a kind smile. “Just sit tight and I’ll be back in as soon as we know more.”

“Thank you, Dr. Kim,” Mr. Schrader said.

Leilani left him and headed up to radiology to check in with Holden. She’d no more than stepped off the elevators when he waved her over to look at the films.

“See how narrow this is?” Holden asked her, pointing at the films of the kid’s trachea. “There’s definite swelling in his airway. In fact, given that there’s maybe only one or two millimeters open at most, it’s starting to close off completely. There should be a finger’s width all the way up.”

Definitely not good, especially since the airway normally narrowed at that point anyway, right before the vocal cords. Which brought up the next issues.

“What about his voice box?” she asked.

“That’s my concern,” Holden said, the grayish light from the X-ray viewer casting deep shadows on the hollows of his cheeks and under his eyes. “Looks like the surfboard made a direct hit on that area. The voice box could’ve been broken from the impact. It’s a high-risk injury in a high-risk area of the body.” He shook his head and leaned in closer to the films. “At least this explains his trouble breathing.”

“Are you going to operate?” Leilani asked.

Holden exhaled slowly. “No, not yet. Hate to do that to a kid so young. My advice would be to treat him with steroids first and see if the swelling goes down. Watch him like a hawk though. If conservative treatment doesn’t work, then I’ll go in with the thoracoscopy.”

“Agreed.” Leilani stepped back and smiled. Working with Holden felt natural, comfortable. Like they were a team. “Best to keep him in the ER then for the time being. That way if he needs emergency assistance, we’re there.”

“Yep. Let’s do it.”

She and Holden rode back down to the trauma bay with the medical team and Tommy, then called his father into the room.

Holden and Leilani exchanged looks, then she nodded. He stepped forward to take the lead. “Mr. Schrader, I’m sorry to tell you this is a very, very serious situation. Your son’s airway is currently compromised due to swelling from the surfboard strike. It’s possible his voice box had been damaged. If that’s the case, it could have long-term effects on his speech.”

“Oh God.” Mr. Schrader moved in beside his son and took the kid’s hand. “I told you not to go surfing today. I was so worried.”

“I know,” Tommy managed to croak out, clinging to his dad’s hand. “Sorry.”

“Our biggest concern though, at this point,” Holden continued, “is that if his larynx—his voice box—is too badly damaged, your son runs the risk of losing his ability to breathe. We need to keep him here at the hospital, in the ER, for at least the next twelve hours for observation. That way if his condition worsens, we can rush him into surgery immediately, if needed. I’d also like to get a consult from one of the throat specialists on staff to get their opinion.”

“Whatever you need to do,” Mr. Schrader said. “I just want my son to be okay.”

“Great. Thank you.” Holden stepped back and glanced at Leilani again. “Both Dr. Kim and I will check on Tommy periodically through the night to keep an eye on him then.”

“Yes, we will. You won’t be alone.” Leilani leaned in to place the call button in the kid’s hand and give him a reassuring smile. Once upon a time, that had been her in a hospital bed—scared and unsure about the future. “And if you feel your breathing gets worse at any point, you just press that button and we’ll rush back in right away, okay?”

Tommy gave a hesitant nod.

“Someone will always be here for you, Tommy,” Holden said, meeting Leilani’s gaze. “I promise. We’re not going to let anything else happen to you.”

The kid swallowed, then winced.

“Don’t worry. We’ll be in here checking on you so often you’ll get sick of seeing us.” Leilani winked, then headed toward the door with Holden. “Promise.”

“And I’ll be here too, son,” his dad said, pulling up a chair to the beside.

She and Holden walked back to the nurses’ station, discarding their masks and gowns in the biohazard bin and stopping to wash their hands at the sink nearby. His limp seemed less pronounced today, though he still used his cane to take the weight off his right leg.

She glanced over at him and smiled as she soaped up, then rinsed off. “You handled that case well.”

“Thanks.” He smiled, then winced, tossing his used paper towels in the trash and reaching up to touch the sutures in his lower lip.

“Stitches bothering you?” she asked, leaning a bit closer to inspect his wound. “Looks like it’s healing well.”

“I’m fine. It just stings a bit when I forget it’s there,” he said, holding up a tube of lip balm. “This helps though.”

“Glad to hear it.” Leilani turned away from the cherry flavored lip balm he held up. That was her favorite flavor. And now, for some reason, her mind kept wondering what his kisses would taste like with cherries in the mix. Ugh. Not good. Not good at all. She stepped back and looked anywhere but at him. “So, I should probably get back to work on another case then.”

“Yeah, me too.” He fiddled with the head of his cane, frowning slightly. “Hey, um, I meant to ask you about the luau.”

“Luau?” she repeated, like she was channeling her pet parrot. Her pulse kicked up a notch. Damn. She’d been hoping he’d forget about all that. Apparently not. She forced a smile she didn’t quite feel and flexed her fingers to relax them. Considering she’d just been having inappropriate thoughts about this man—her coworker—if she was wise, she’d get the heck out of there as soon as possible. Unfortunately, her feet seemed to have other ideas, because they stayed firmly planted where she was.

At least he seemed as awkward as she felt about it all, shuffling his feet and fumbling over his words. It was actually quite endearing... Leilani’s heart pinched a little at the sweetness, before she stopped herself.

Keep it professional, girl.

“The other day, last week, uh,” he said, keeping his gaze lowered like he was a nervous schoolkid and not a highly successful surgeon. “Anyway, I think your dad mentioned the luau at the hotel and I’d seen some flyers on it too, and I wondered if you still wanted to take me.” He hazarded a glance up and caught her eye. “Not that I’ll hold you to that. I just...” He exhaled slowly and ran his free hand through his hair, leaving the dark curls in adorable disarray.

No. Not adorable. No, no, no.

But even as she thought that, the simmering awareness bubbling inside her boiled over into blatant interest without her consent. Damn. This was beyond inconvenient. Of all the men for her to be interested in now, it had to be Holden Ross.

He huffed out a breath, then cursed quietly before straightening and meeting her gaze head-on as his words tumbled out in a rush. “Look. I don’t get out much and I’d like to see some sights while I’m here, and since you offered the other day, I thought I’d take you up on that, if the offer...if it still stands. Not a date, because I don’t do that. Just as two people, colleagues...” He hung his head. “I’m off tomorrow and Friday.”

Leilani blinked at him a moment, stunned. Blood thundered in her ears and she turned away to grab her tablet from behind the desk, needing something, anything, to keep herself busy, to keep herself from agreeing to his invitation and more. Because for some crazy reason that’s exactly what she wanted to do.

Think, girl. Think.

Saying yes could lead to a friendship between them beyond work, could lead to those uncomfortable tingles of like for this guy going a whole lot further into other l words. Not love, because that was off the table, but another one with a capital L. Lust. Because yeah, Holden really was just her type. Tall, dark, gorgeous. Smart, funny, sexy as all get out.

So, she should definitely say no. He was her coworker, her potential rival.

Except that would be rude. And she just couldn’t bring herself to be rude to him. Maybe it was that haunted look in his eyes she spied sometimes. Maybe it was his obvious awkwardness around commitment.

I don’t date.

Well, neither did she at present. Or maybe it was the air of brokenness about him that called to the same old wounded parts in her.

Whatever it was, she didn’t want to turn him down, even though she should.

There was one problem though.

She looked back at him over her shoulder as she brought up the next patient’s information on her screen. “Malu Huna’s luaus are only on Friday nights. And I have to work tomorrow. If you wanted to see the sights on Friday,” she said, taking a deep breath to calm her racing nerves, “then I guess we could. It will make for a long day though. Are you sure you’re up to that?”

“I am if you are,” he said, his cane clinking against the desk as he moved closer. “I’ll double up on my pain pills so I’m ready for anything.”

Ready for anything.

Damn if those words, spoken in that deep velvet voice of his, didn’t conjure a whole new batch of inappropriate thoughts. The two of them on the beach, holding hands and running into the waves together, lying in the sand afterward, making out like two horny teens, the feel of that dark stubble on his jaw scraping her cheeks, her neck, her chest, lower still...

Oh boy. I’m in trouble here.

Heat stormed her cheeks and she swiveled to face him, not realizing how close they were until it was too late. Her hand brushed his solid, warm chest before she snatched it away. Holden’s hazel eyes flared with the same awareness jolting through her, before he quickly hid it behind a frown.

“Look, if you don’t want to—”

“No, it’s fine. I promised you and I always keep my word.” She focused on the file on her screen again, trying in vain to calm her whirling thoughts. This was so not like her. She never went gaga over men. Yet here she was, blushing and stammering and acting like an idiot over the last man on Earth she should be attracted to. And yet, she was. Much as she hated to admit it.

Gah! Images of them lying together on that mat in the hotel gym zoomed back fast and furious to her mind. No. If she was going to get through this with her sanity and her heart intact, she needed to think logically about it. She’d show him her island home, not just the tourist sights, but her favorite spots too. Besides, it might give her a chance to find out more about his relationship with Dr. King and his real motives for being here in Hawaii. Taken in that light, she’d be a fool not to take him up on his offer, right? She took a deep breath, then set her tablet aside. “Fine. We’ll tour the town, then end with the luau. Meet me in the lobby at the hotel at 8:00 a.m. the day after tomorrow and don’t be late.”

Holden opened his mouth, closed it, then he smiled—the slow little one that made her toes curl in her comfy white running shoes. Ugh. No more of that. She turned away to head into her next exam room as his surprised tone revealed an equal amount of shock on his part. “Uh...okay. Eight o’clock on Friday it is.”

Four hours later, Holden was finishing up his shift by checking for the last time with Tommy Schrader. The kid was lucky. The steroids had helped reduce the swelling in his larynx and it didn’t look like the thoracoscopy would be necessary after all.

When Holden arrived upstairs to Tommy’s room, several of the kid’s surfer friends were there, along with Tommy’s father. Tommy was holding court like a king on his throne from his hospital bed, sun-streaked shaggy blond hair hanging in his face and his voice like gravel in a blender. But the fact the kid was speaking at all was a minor miracle. His injury could’ve been so much worse, and Holden was glad such a young guy wouldn’t carry lifelong scars from his accident.

Unlike Holden himself.

He cleared his throat at the door to the hospital room to announce his presence. “Sorry if this is a bad time. Just wanted to check in on my patient one more time before my shift is over.” He limped into the room with his cane and smiled at Mr. Schrader and the new guests. “Tommy’s very lucky.”

“Dudes, you have no idea,” Tommy rasped out, smiling at Holden, then his friends. “They were gonna stick a camera up my nose and down my throat and everything.”

“Whoa,” his friends said, both as shaggy and sunburned as Tommy. “Man, that’s gnarly. You were gonna be awake for that?”

“Patients are usually awake for thoracoscopy, yes,” Holden confirmed as he reached Tommy’s beside and leaned closer to examine the kid’s throat. The swelling was greatly reduced, even from the last time Holden had checked him about an hour prior. He’d be fine to discharge.

He straightened and turned to Mr. Schrader, who was sitting on a chair near the window. “Your son appears to be healing just fine now, though Dr. Kim will continue to check on him for the remainder of his stay. I don’t imagine there’ll be any lingering effects, but I’ll leave orders to discharge him with another round of steroids and some anti-inflammatory meds too. Then have him check in with your family physician in two weeks.”

“Sounds good.” The father shook Holden’s hand. “Thanks so much, Doc. Now that I know my son’s gonna be all right, once I get him home I’ll make sure his older brothers keep an eye on him too. And try to talk him out of surfing so close to a full moon again.”

Holden grinned and turned back to Tommy. “Listen to your dad. Take care, Tommy.”

“Thanks, Doc. Mahalo,” the kid said, shaking Holden’s hand too. “I’ll be sure to thank the pretty lady doc too. You guys make a good team. She your girlfriend?”

“Son,” Mr. Schrader said, his voice rife with warning. “Don’t mind him, Dr. Ross. That’s all him and his friends think about these days when they’re not surfing. Girls.”

“I’ll pass along gratitude to Dr. Kim,” Holden said, dodging the uncomfortable questions and ignoring the squeeze of anxiety in his chest it caused. “Take care, all.”

“Mahalo, Doc!” Tommy called again as Holden walked from the room to the nurses’ station down the hall.

He should feel relieved to have another successful patient outcome under his belt, but now all he could think about was Leilani and their upcoming date on Friday.

Wait. Scratch that. Not a date.

He hadn’t lied when he’d told her he didn’t do that. Life was too unpredictable for long-term commitments. The shooting had taught him that. Nothing was permanent, especially love. So now he chose short, sweet, no strings attached affairs. No deeper, messy, scary emotions involved, thanks. No connections beyond the physical. No chance to have his heart ripped out and shredded to pieces. Because that’s what he wanted.

Isn’t it?

Not that it mattered. He and Leilani Kim were work colleagues, nothing more. Best to keep his head down and focus on his work, then move on when this stint ended. That was the safest bet. And Holden was all about safety these days.

She’d show him around the city, then take him to the luau at the resort, as promised. That’s all. Nothing more. And sure, he couldn’t stop thinking about the feel of her beneath him on that stupid gym mat, the sweet jasmine and lemon scent of her hair, the warm brush of her skin against his and...

Oh God.

He was such an idiot. What the hell had he been thinking to bring up her invitation to the luau? He hadn’t been thinking, that was the problem. Or more to the point, he’d been thinking with his libido and not his brain. Memories of her dressed in those formfitting leggings and tank top at the gym that day, how she might wrap those shapely legs of hers around him instead, and hold him close, kiss him, run her fingers through his hair. He shuddered.

No. No, no, no.

With more effort than should be necessary to concentrate, Holden finished electronically signing off on his notes on the Tommy Schrader case, then left instructions for his discharge for Leilani before handing it all over to the nurse waiting behind the desk.

“Dr. King asked to see you upstairs in her office when you have a moment, Dr. Ross,” the nurse said.

“Thanks.” Probably about that project she’d mentioned to him before. He took a deep breath, then headed for the elevators. The clock on the wall said it was nearly time for him to leave. Good. He’d see Helen, then head back to the ER to hand off his cases to the next physician on duty before going back to the hotel for some much-needed sleep.

Besides, talking to Helen should be a good distraction from his unwanted thoughts about Leilani. The elevator dinged and he stepped on board then pushed the button for the fifth floor, where the administrative offices were located.

He had to get his head on straight again before Friday. Hell, if he was really serious about keeping to himself, he’d cancel the whole day altogether. Given the surprised look on her face when she’d offered to show him around, she’d probably be glad to be rid of him as well. But then if he did cancel, she might take it the wrong way, and the last thing he wanted was to offend her. They still had to work together, after all.

You guys make a good team.

Tommy’s words from earlier echoed through his head. The worst part was, they were true.

Working with Leilani on that case had felt seamless, effortless, right.

Which was just wrong, in Holden’s estimation.

He didn’t want partnerships anymore, professionally or personally. Getting too close to people only made you vulnerable and weak, especially when they could be taken from you so easily.

Ding!

The elevator doors swished open and Holden stepped out into the lobby on the administrative floor. Thick carpet padded his footsteps as he headed over to the receptionist’s desk in the middle of the plush leather-and-glass sitting area.

“Hi. Holden Ross to see Helen King, please,” he said, feeling out of place and underdressed in his shift-old scrubs and sneakers.

“Dr. King’s been expecting you, Dr. Ross.” She pointed down a hallway to her left. “Last door on the right.”

“Thanks.” He gave the woman a polite smile, then headed for the office she’d indicated. The other times he’d met with Helen here in Hawaii, it had been outside the hospital, either at her home near Waikiki or at the fancy restaurant she’d taken him to on his first night in the city. Other than that, he’d never been up here, since regular old human resources was in another building entirely, half a block down from the medical center. He made his way to the end of the hall and stopped to admire the amazing view from the floor-to-ceiling glass wall beside the office before knocking on the dark wood door.

“Come in,” Helen called from inside, and Holden entered the office.

For a moment, he took in the understated elegance of the place. It was Helen to a T, no-nonsense yet comfortable. “Wow, this is a big step up from Chicago, huh?”

Helen chuckled, her husky voice helping to soothe his earlier anxiety. “It doesn’t suck. Please come in, Holden. Have a seat.”

He did so, in a large wingback leather chair in front of her desk that probably cost more than his rent back home. As always, Helen’s desk was spotless, with stacks of files neatly placed in bins and every pen just so. “The nurse downstairs said you wanted to see me?”

“I wanted to see how you’re settling in,” she said, sitting back in her black leather executive chair that dwarfed her petite frame. With her short white hair and sparkling blue eyes, she’d always reminded Holden of a certain British actress of a certain age, who took no crap from anyone. “We haven’t talked in a few weeks. How are you liking things here at Ohana?”

“Fine.” He did his best to relax but found it difficult. He and Helen had been friends long enough for him to suspect this wasn’t just a social call. They could’ve gone to the pub for that. “The facilities are top-notch and the staff is great.”

Better than great, his mind chimed in as he recalled Leilani.

Not that he’d mention his unwanted attraction to his coworker to Helen. The woman had been trying to get him married off since they’d worked together back in Chicago. If she even suspected a hint of chemistry between him and Leilani, she’d be all over it worse than the Spanish Inquisition.

“Glad to hear you like it.” Helen steepled her fingers, then watched him over the top of them, her gaze narrowed, like M getting ready to assign her best secret agent a new kill. “But do you like it enough to consider staying?”

“What?” Holden tore his gaze away from the stunning views of the ocean in the distance and focused on Helen once more, his chest tightening. He frowned. “No. I’m locum tenens.”

“I know,” she said, sitting forward to rest her arms atop her desk. “But what if you weren’t.”

The low-grade anxiety constantly swirling in his chest rose higher, constricting his vocal cords. “But I am. You know I don’t want to get tied down to anywhere. Not yet.”

Maybe not ever again.

Helen blinked at him several times before exhaling slowly, her expression morphing from confident to concerned. “I’m worried about you, Holden. You’ve been on your own since the shooting, jetting off to a new place every few months, no connections, no home.”

“I’m fine,” he said, forcing the words. “Look, I thought you called me here to talk about that project you mentioned, not dissect my personal life.”

“Are you fine though?” Her blue gaze narrowed, far too perceptive for his tastes. She sighed and stood, coming around the desk and leaning her hips back against it as she changed the subject. “Well, all that aside... Fine, let’s discuss the project then.”

Holden released his pent-up breath, his lungs aching for oxygen, and stared at the floor beneath his feet. Helen had saved his life after the shooting. Stitching up his wounds and staunching his blood loss until the orthopedic surgeons could work their magic on his leg and shoulder. Without her, there was a good chance he would’ve ended up six feet under, just like David.

An unexpected pang of grief stabbed his chest. Even a year later, he still missed his best friend like it was yesterday. The funeral. The awful days afterward, walking around like a zombie, no emotions, no light, no hope.

Still, he was here. He was coming back to life slowly, painfully, whether he wanted to or not. Like a limb that had fallen asleep, pins and needles stabbed him relentlessly as the emotions he’d suppressed for so long returned. Maybe that was why he felt so drawn to Leilani—her vibrant spirit, the sense that perhaps in some weird way she understood what he’d been through, how she made him feel things he’d thought he’d never feel again.

Plus, he owed Helen a debt he could never repay. That’s why he was here in Hawaii. Why he was here now. She’d saved his life and his leg. The least he could do was hear her out. He cleared his throat, then asked, “What kind of project is it?”

“Twofold, actually.” Helen clasped her hands in front of her. “First, our national accreditation is coming up for renewal next year and we need to make sure all of our security policies are up-to-date for the ER. I’d like you to help with that.”

Holden swallowed hard and forced his tense shoulders to relax. “I can do that.”

“Good.” Helen glanced out the windows then back to him again. “Secondly, you know I’m looking for a new director of emergency medicine, yes?”

“Yes,” he said. “But I’m here as a trauma surgeon.”

“True. But you’ve got the experience and the temperament to head a department, Holden.” She crossed her arms. “You were on track to run the ER back in Chicago, before the shooting.”

He had been. That was true. But those ambitions had died along with David that day. He didn’t want to be responsible for all those people, for all those lives. What if he failed again?

“I don’t want that anymore. I’m happy with the temporary stint.” His response sounded flat to his own ears and his heart pinched slightly despite knowing he couldn’t even consider taking on a more permanent role. “Besides, Dr. Kim is doing a great job as temporary director. Why not offer it to her?”

“She’s in the running, to be sure,” Helen said before pushing away from the desk and walking over to the windows nearby. “But I like to keep my options open. And it’s been nice having you here, Holden. I won’t lie. We’re friends. I know you. Trust you. Dr. Kim seems more than competent and her record at Ohana is outstanding, but every time I try to get to know her better, she shuts me down. I’m not sure I can work with someone I don’t know and trust implicitly.”

Holden had noticed Leilani deftly skirting his questions around her past too. Then again, he had no room to talk. He hadn’t told her anything about what had happened to him either.

He exhaled slowly and raked a hand through his hair. He didn’t like the idea of spying for Helen, no matter how much he owed her. Maybe he should cancel Friday, just so it wouldn’t come back to bite him later, one way or another. Shut down any semblance of something more between him and Leilani before it ever really started. The fact he seemed more drawn to her each time they were together scared him more than anything, to be honest, and Holden was no coward. But damn if he wanted to open himself up to a world of hurt again, and some hidden part of him sensed that getting closer to Leilani would bring heartbreak for sure.

“I don’t feel comfortable spying for you,” he said bluntly. “Not on a colleague.”

“No,” Helen said, giving him a small smile. “I didn’t imagine you would. Well, that’s fine. Just keep an eye out during the project. If you see anything you think I should know about, let me know. Oh, and I haven’t talked to Dr. Kim about it yet, so keep it under your hat, until I do. Okay?”

“Okay.” Seemed an odd request, but an innocent one. “No problem. Anything else?”

“Nope. That’s it.” Helen walked back around her desk and took a seat. “I’ve got work to do, so get out of my office.”

He chuckled and stood, his cane sinking into the thick carpet as he leaned his weight on it. “Let me know when it’s safe to mention the project to Leilani. I’ll be out until the weekend.”

Helen gave him a quizzical look at his use of Dr. Kim’s first name, and he kicked himself mentally. Then she winked and grinned as he hobbled toward the door.

“Enjoy your days off,” she called after him.

“Thanks,” he said, gritting his teeth against the soreness in his thigh. He needed to finish up his shift, then get back to the hotel, take a shower, rest, recharge, decide whether to cancel on Friday or spend the day with the one woman who’d somehow gotten under his skin despite all his wishes to the contrary.

“Oh, and Holden?” Helen called when he was halfway into the hall.

“Yeah?” He peeked his head back inside the office.

“Don’t stay cooped up your whole time here in Hawaii,” she said, as if reading his thoughts. “Get out and live a little. Trust me—you’ll be glad you did.”

Holden headed back down the hall and over the elevators, unable to shake the sense of fate weighing heavy on his shoulders. Too bad he didn’t believe in destiny anymore. One random act of violence had changed all that forever.

Still, as he headed back down to the ER his old friend’s words kept running through his head, forcing him to reconsider canceling his Friday plans with Leilani.

Get out and live a little. Trust me—you’ll be glad you did...

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