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?

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.

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

Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.

Their Hot Hawaiian Fling

Traci Douglass

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ISBN: 978-0-008-90243-8

THEIR HOT HAWAIIAN FLING

© 2020 Traci Douglass

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.

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

Traditional Hawaiian Blessing

Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

About the Author

Booklist

Title Page

Copyright

Note to Readers

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

Extract

About the Publisher

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.”

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