Read Breaking Her No-Dating Rule Online

Authors: Amalie Berlin

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #General, #Fiction, #Medical Romance

Breaking Her No-Dating Rule (4 page)

Anson lifted both hands, trying to put the brakes on the situation before she got really angry. Obviously he’d hit a nerve, she’d gone from quiet and somewhat babbly to angry because he’d called it a hallucinogen. “I’m not judging, but I am curious. And I agree your body is a temple.”

Smooth.

When she turned back to her task he focused on the cabinet again and the array of medicines, and changed the subject. “Well stocked.”

She went with it and didn’t comment on his completely unacceptable remark about her body. “Mirry’s a planner. She likes to be prepared for anything. She’s always been good like that, never lets anyone down.” A clipboard hung inside the cabinet, but where he’d expected to see an inventory sheet had been clipped a single piece of notebook paper, a list of supplies in a scrolling, extravagant script. She picked it up and began writing again.

Mirry? Always been?

Ellory wasn’t a nurse...

Sister? “Are you Ellory Dupris?” Anson put the two names together as he plucked one bottle of antibiotics from the shelf and set it on her clipboard so she could get a good look at the spelling and dose of medication.

“Ellory Du...? Oh, no. My name is Ellory Star.”

She scribbled down the medicine then put the bottle into a little plastic basket. “You look for any other medicines, I’m going to get the supplies to clean your knuckles up.” Before she headed away she turned back to him with a little pinch between her brows. “I’m sorry I made fun of your name. It wasn’t nice. But in my defense it’s kind of a terrible name. You should change it. Pick something more positive.”

Pick something? “You picked Star, didn’t you?”

“Yep.”

Okay... He’d think about that later. “You do work here, though.”

“Licensed massage therapist, which is my primary occupation, I guess. I’ve completed training and passed boards to be a physiotherapy assistant in Texas, but I haven’t done any office work on it or taken boards here. The closest I came was a mission where the leader had back trouble and I helped her with the daily exercises her actual treatment prescribed...helped her handle being out in the field,” she answered, fishing a badge from under her sweater and answering the question that he’d been working toward.

Anticipating. She really was perceptive. And the occupations fit. But then again, she could’ve said artist, pagan priestess, or tambourine player and he would’ve believed her. So, a massage therapist who called the owner’s daughter and resort doctor ‘Mirry.’

He plucked another medication from the cabinet, the mildest prescription-level pain medicine Mirry...Dr. Dupris...had in stock, and put it on the clipboard. “I put another medicine there for pain for Chelsea. Frostbite pain is monstrous.”

Shrugging out of his coat, he pushed his sleeves up and stepped over to the sink to wash his hands, paying special attention to the puffy and bloody knuckles. He gave his fingers a few more slow flexes. Burning. Tenderness. But no bone pain. He knew about bone pain, just as he knew about frostbite pain. So she was right, even without having that information at her disposal. Good eye.

“Oh, my God, that’s all you...”

He turned away from the sink, hand still under the water. “What’s all me?”

“I was hoping that the coat was puffier than it seems to be.”

He briefly considered not asking her for clarification, but he needed all the information he could get to keep up in conversation with this woman. “Why were you hoping my coat was puffy?”

“You’re seriously beefy. Shoulders a mile wide, muscled. It’s going to make working on you hard. I was hoping that some of that was your gear, your coat... I’ve got pretty strong hands and upper body, but you’re going to be a tough case.” She’d put a tray on the table, an array of antiseptics, gauze, tapes and ointments on it, and then went to write the medicine on her special clipboard.

“No, I won’t. I don’t need to be worked on.” He didn’t mention the compliment. Best ignore that attraction she’d all but said was mutual.

“How’s it feeling?”

Good. She wasn’t going to push the subject. “Nothing broken but the wall and my self-control. Bruised. Some abrasions...” He dried his hands on paper towels and wandered toward the table. “Maybe a mild sprain.” He’d hit the wall hard.

“After you give the medicine to Chelsea, I want you on my table.”

“Ellory, I don’t need it.”

“Suffering for no reason doesn’t make you tough, it makes you stupid.” She made a noise he could only consider a verbal shrug, “Your shoulder needs working on. If you want that thing to heal up so you can get back out there to find Jude when the snow lets up, let me help you.”

He should’ve seen that coming. Her vocation was one hundred percent hands on, and from what he could tell by having observed her, she was on a mission to take care of the world.

The idea had some appealing qualities. Not the least of which the prospect of having her hands on his body... She might be dressed like a crazy person, considering the season and latitude, and conversing with her might be like running a linguistic obstacle course, but strangely neither of those things made her unappealing. And neither did the revelation about her spirit quest.

But he didn’t really deserve comfort, and it was possible that his shoulder would calm down on its own in a little while.

“Maybe later. I should stick around the lobby. Keep a watch on them and the weather.”

“Have you seen the radar? The storm is going to be with us for a while, hours and hours. We’ll leave one of the radios with your people in the lobby and they can call us if...” The lights flickered, stopping her flow of words and her hands. When the power steadied and stayed on, she continued, “We’re going to lose electricity.”

“Maybe. We should see about making preparations, on the off chance...”

“It’s not an off chance, Anson. It happens in every bad storm that hits the pass. Summer. Winter. Doesn’t matter what kind of storm. It’s not the whole town, but the lines to the lodge are dodgy, always breaking or going out for some reason. Tree limbs. High winds. Accumulation of heavy snow or ice...”

“I thought you were just in Peru.”

“And before that Haiti. And before that the Central African Republic. Before that Costa Rica. But I was born and raised in Silver Pass. I needed to come home after my retreat, and Mira offered me a place to work. I have a history with the lodge. I know what I’m talking about. Nothing ever changes here. The power
will
go out
.

“What does a massage therapist do in those places?”

“Dig ditches. Build dams. Distribute food, clothing, or whatever the mission is. And I help at the end of the day when people are worn out and hurting from all the manual labor.” She disappeared into the office, and after some mucking around in there came out with a file folder, some forms, and another clipboard. “And there have been a few projects where I ended up with the same project leader, and I think she took me along as much to help keep her on her feet as to help with the actual project.”

She left him to clean and dress his hand and made some notes in Chelsea’s chart.

She’d grown up at the lodge, which explained why she was on such intimate terms with the owners. “You knew Dr. Dupris growing up?”

“Yes, and before you dig further she’s my best friend. I love her more than anyone else in the whole world and if I’m upsetting you by making you help with the skiers, or making you let me help you, you’re just going to have to get over it. She’s having some much-needed downtime, and I’m going to take care of her people. Right now you’re one of them, Dr. Graves. So suck it up, get the medicine into Chelsea and meet me at the massage therapy room. It’s three doors down. There’s a sign.” She locked the drug cabinet and then turned and tossed her keys to him.

He instinctively caught them with his right hand, and regretted it. The combination of flying metal hitting his throbbing palm and the quick jerk of his arm tweaking his shoulder doubled the pain whammy that followed.

“Fine.” Not fine. Annoyed. But as annoying as it was, she had a point, and if she could help, he’d make use of her.

“Lock the door when you leave. And turn off the lights. No wasting fossil fuels.”

At least she didn’t gloat.

 

CHAPTER FOUR

W
HEN
E
LLORY
KNOCKED
on Mira’s door, she wondered if she would be interrupting something she didn’t want to interrupt.

Not usually one to be shy about sex, Ellory could only blame her squeamishness on the fact that being around Anson was making her think naughty thoughts, and now she was acutely aware that she wasn’t allowed to follow through with them.

She hadn’t specifically said her resolution not to date included no hook-ups, but she was trying to break that cycle as she’d spent her adult life sublimating her desire for love with lots of sex. Safe, sterile sex. So in the spirit of the resolution it had to include hooking up with handsome, inexplicably surly, dog-owning doctors—because Anson and his mile-wide shoulders were the best Fling Contender in Silver Pass.

She scrambled out of the stairwell on the top floor, already avoiding the elevators so she didn’t get trapped when the power went off, and jogged down the corridor to Mira’s Stately Pleasure Dome.

In the plus column, Anson would never want to date her, so her Stupid Resolution wasn’t in danger. He’d already remarked on finding her strange—unsurprising as most people who didn’t move in her circles found her odd. Add to that him now thinking she was someone who would use the spirit quest as a reason to go to the rainforest and take drugs...

But none of that came close to touching the biggest block: the anguish she’d seen in his eyes earlier didn’t leave room for much thought of carousing.

Even if sex was a really good way to generate heat when the power cut out during a raging blizzard.

Also? Sheer entertainment value. Something else she’d ignore from here on.

None of that helped her figure out how to talk to Mira without being afraid that she was interrupting something special. More special than any sex Ellory had ever had...another reason she was weirded out about it.

Mira had found love. Real love... It wouldn’t just be sex Ellory interrupted, it’d be making love—which was probably sacred.

Or, as she’d like to think of it, making wild, reality-shattering love so potent it could mess with physics, the future, the past, and maybe illuminate all those dark places in her heart where negative thoughts and bad feelings liked to hide.

She’d been looking hard for that for the past decade, but it was elusive.

She stopped in front of the carved white door of Number Five’s fancy suite and did the unthinkable: She knocked. “I’m sorry, Mirry, I have to talk to you.”

The sound of stumbling and doors closing preceded the door opening, and her decidedly disheveled best friend appeared in the frame. “Hey. Is everything okay?”

Bedhead. That glazed look that came with passion that’s been unexpectedly shut down. She’d definitely interrupted love...

“I’m so sorry. I just want to keep you informed about what is going on, and there’s some stuff. But I want you to know that I’m handling it, and Anson too. I’m not handling Anson...well, I am a little. But not in a sexy way. I’m still being faithful to my resolution.” Ellory stopped talking. That’s not what she was supposed to talk about. “The blizzard.”

Mira, gaze sharpening with understanding, unsuccessfully tried to hide a smile smug enough that Ellory knew she’d be getting teased to hell and back if Mira weren’t likely in a hurry to get back to Jack. “Good to know you’re handling Anson. What about the blizzard?”

“We’ve got missing people. Person. One. The others, the rescue team got back. They were suffering moderate hypothermia but we’ve got them warmed up and are keeping a close eye on all four of them. One of them has either stage one or stage two frostbite on her toes, Anson said. Did you know he’s a doctor too? He’s been treating her. We went and got medicine from the clinic, and I’ve written down—”

“I’ll get dressed...”

“No!”
Ellory grabbed her arm to keep her from getting away. “It’s okay, really. We’re doing great...except for the missing man, and you can’t help with that right now. One of the guests who was with the rescued group tried to get back to the lodge on his own, and he didn’t make it back before the storm, or yet, and they weren’t able to locate him before the storm got too dangerous and the visibility too bad. It’s impossible to go out right now. I knew you’d want to know, but there’s nothing you can do about it right now. Later or tomorrow, if you want to come check on everyone, that’d be great. Anson is tired. I’d feel bad making him do like a seventy-two-hour shift or something.”

“Where are they?”

“Still in the lobby in front of the blazing fire, but we’re relocating them to the fireplace suites. The lights flickered so I figure we’re going to lose the power and then the central heat will go...so I’m corralling everyone into the fireplace suites, employees too. Doubling up occupancy and stuff. Everything is as under control as it can be, there’s nothing else you could do. Well, unless you know how to fix drywall.”

“What happened to the drywall?” Mira, unlike everyone else in her world, didn’t have any trouble keeping up with Ellory’s mind—which could be counted on to bear off in another direction without warning during pretty much every conversation. But especially those fraught with emotion and where something unpredictable loomed.

“Anson punched it. There’s a hole...”

“This isn’t sounding all that under control, Elle.”

“I know it sounds all kinds of chaotic, but that’s because I’m condensing hours and hours into a few minutes. He’s sorry about the drywall, but he’s very upset and worried about Jude.”

Mira nodded slowly, taking it all in. She didn’t even have to ask who Jude was, she just kept up. “The lost skier...”

“I brought you this.” Ellory fished a spare radio from her pocket and handed it over. “I know you’ll want to be contacted super-fast if there is an emergency. They’re all tuned to the lodge emergency channel, and they’ll be spread out among the patient rooms and rescuers, so anyone in need of help can get it fast when the power goes out.”

Ellory’s faith in Mira was boundless, and generally that faith extended to the confidence Mira would mirror her own faith. Not many people did that. No one, actually. Not right now, at least. But for a few seconds while Mira considered the radio in her hands, Ellory’s faith wavered. “I can do it, Mira. I won’t let you down. I promise.”

“I know. I know you can. I was just thinking about whether I’m taking advantage...”

Relief warmed her and she relaxed, a smile returning. “You’re not taking advantage of anyone, except maybe Jack.” Ellory shook her head, covering her friend’s hand as she teased. “And don’t worry about the hole in the wall. I’ll get Anson all patched up and then I’ll make sure that he fixes the wall or gets billed for putting his fist through it when everything is up and running. And speaking of running, I need to. I have him on my table.”

“Anson?”

“He hurt his shoulder.”

“With the wall...”

“Well, it was hurt before that. But he made it worse with the wall.” Ellory smiled and gathered up her skirts. “Don’t worry, I’m just going to work on his shoulder. Not breaking my Stupid Resolution! You’re still losing this year, Dupris!” And since the wing was deserted and she wanted Jack to hear, Ellory bellowed, “But that’s okay, your Karmic Love-Jackpot Sex Machine Jack sounds like a good consolation prize!” She backed down the hallway, smiling as Mira’s cheeks went pink.

Karmic Love-Jackpot Sex Machine was a much better nickname than Number Five, even if it took forever to say. Any man should be proud to bear that title.

*

Anson unlocked the door to the massage room and stepped inside, flipping on the lights. It was warm in there. Warmer than anywhere else he’d been in the lodge, except rooms that had
steam
in the name.

He pulled the top of his snow suit off again and let it pool at his waist, then took a seat while waiting. Like everywhere else, it was a deeply comfortable room, with plush chairs, stacks of fresh towels, a line of oil bottles and lotions...and the lingering scent of sandalwood and eucalyptus. A hedonist paradise.

Luxury. Comfort. And he was getting a massage when he should be out looking for the lost skier... No, nothing at all wrong with that.

Ellory had a point about him being in top shape for when the snow let up, but he was wound so tight it’d be a miracle if she could get him to relax at all.

He even felt guilty about wanting to relax a little. His rational mind knew how big this storm was, that if they were lucky it would be over in a day, and that he couldn’t spend all the time until then on watch for a break. There’d be no break until it was over. Resting and taking care of the patients until then was the correct course of action.

He’d be doing something, but he wanted to do something more active.

And doing anything kept him from having too much time to think about what the man was going through while
he
was warm, safe, and...resting.

He stood and headed for a shelf with candles. Light the candles, save time.

He also lit a stick of incense propped in a holder, because that probably had some kind of peace-making mojo she would insist he needed.

When he stumbled over a remote control, he turned on music from a well-hidden stereo system.

By the time he’d gotten everything powered up, the door opened and Ellory walked in, pulling back her long, wavy, sun-kissed locks as she did, and twisting them into some kind of knot at the nape of her neck.

“So you do want a massage.” She smiled. “Got the candles going for mood lighting, the incense, the music...”

“I was helping. Speeding things up.” And now he was making excuses. He shut up.

“Yes, you were helping, but I’m pretty sure there’s only one lightning-fast method of instantly relaxing.” She closed the door, locked it, set her radio on the counter and began stripping. Off came the coat. Then her sweater...which left her wearing a small white T-shirt that had risen up enough to give him a view of the curve of smooth hip to waist before her arms came back down and she was once more covered. “And while that was completely inappropriate, it was payback for earlier. Don’t worry, we’re not doing that.”

Despite seeing him at less than his best, and witnessing him put his fist through the wall—which he really wasn’t proud of—the little eco-princess was flirting with him. He smiled, felt it, thought better of it and stopped. No wonder the woman liked to go to tropical places. Golden, shapely, and not at all what the media would classify a beach body...in the best way.

“Why are you getting undressed, then?”

It might have been years since he had a massage from anyone other than a lover, but he was sure that the only person who got naked was the one getting ministered to.

“I don’t want to get oil on my clothes.” She tossed the sweater onto the couch. “I’ll keep my skirt on and the thermals beneath, but the sweater’s sleeves are baggy and tend to drag. Oil would ruin it.” A brief pause and she gestured to the opposite corner of the room. “There’s a changing room through there, just strip down and wrap a towel around your waist. Underpants on or off, up to you. And I’ll get...”

What she was saying registered and he shook his head, moving to sit in a chair, “I don’t need to change. It’s just my shoulder.”

“Okay. Take off your shirt, then. And your shoes. You’re the only one who didn’t have your toes checked when you came in.”

“I don’t need my toes checked,” he muttered, that directive enough to pull him out of the fantastic place his mind was going. Perfect little beach body didn’t need to gawk at his ugly feet. But now that he’d seen what was beneath the baggy sweater, he wanted to see what was beneath the flowing skirts.

“Shirt,” Ellory repeated, done arguing with him for now. She’d work on his shoulder, get him to relax, and then get him on the table. She couldn’t fix his shoulder without having full access to his back. It was all connected. Not that she was going to bring that up with him right now. He was a doctor, he knew full well how anatomy and muscles worked together. He was just being a pain in the butt, and there was no reasoning with a pain in the butt. Logic didn’t win in an emotional kerfuffle and after seeing his display of testosterone earlier she could definitely say he was having an emotional kerfuffle he didn’t want to talk about.

Out of the corner of her eye she could see him complying. Arms up, material moving... She didn’t look yet. He may have lit incense, and there might be enough essential oils in this room to gag an apothecary, but with his suit open and body heat escaping, all Ellory could smell was Eau d’Yummy Masculinity.

All she needed was to start undressing him with her eyes. That would lead to her undressing him with her hands, and then her Stupid Resolution would be shot.

Distract him. She should talk about something.

“So, you ever been south of the equator?” And that sounded like another come on. Because he’d turned her hormones on.

“No, and I’ve never done drugs with a shaman either.”

“It’s not like that.”

Eucalyptus. That was a manly smell, and it would overpower the warm, salty awesomeness pouring off him. She snatched up the bottle of oil, a couple of towels and headed his way. “Do you want to lie on the table?”

“No.”

She rolled her eyes, and didn’t even try to hide it from him. He countered with a brow lift. “You can reach my shoulder from here.” He did slide forward in the chair so he was sitting at the front edge at least.

In an effort to save his snow suit from the oil, she shook out two towels, draping one over his lap and tucking the other into the wad of insulated material at his waist, then stepped between his legs and reached for the oil.

“The skin on your shoulder isn’t bruised, unless it’s such a deep bruise that it hasn’t come out yet. Is that the case?”

“Doubt it.”

“Okay, how did you injure it?”

“Lifting Max. He is good at his job but he doesn’t have the greatest problem-solving skills. Got stuck, couldn’t jump out...”

“So you picked up a huge dog that probably weighs more than me.” She rolled her eyes again. “Next time, just get his front feet or something. Picking up half a dog is less likely to injure you than going whole dog.”

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