Cynda and the City Doctor - Theodora Taylor Page 0,4

pride in?

Wiping the soot away as best I can, I set my phone to vibrate, then race into the practice. No waiting patients. Thank goodness. I head directly to Dr. Haim’s office to apologize.

“Cynda, there you are,” the doctor who replaced my father says when I push open his door. “I’ve been trying to get in contact with you all morning.”

“Sorry, Dr. Haim. The twins missed the bus and I had to drive them to school. And I didn’t have my headphones, so I couldn’t call back and tell you I was running late.”

His gray brows crease in a distracted frown and he adjusts his wire-rimmed spectacles over his long nose. “Oh, Cynda, it’s okay. I just wanted to give you some warning before telling you about a very difficult decision I made over the weekend. You see, I received an offer for my practice and after much thought, I decided to sign the deal and take early retirement.”

My stomach drops. “You sold my dad’s practice? But why?”

Dad had left me the house but strangely he hadn’t made any arrangements for the practice, so it had gone to my stepmother. Luckily she had no interest in dealing with the actual sale and had let me handle it.

I’d picked Dr. Haim to take over my dad’s clinic and he’d assured me that he was in it for the long run. He’d agreed to all of my conditions and had even hired me as his nurse to prove how dedicated he was to preserving my father’s legacy.

“I know this must come as a shock,” Dr. Haim says, his dark brown eyes somber. “But it was a very good deal and it will give me the chance to retire much earlier than I originally had planned.”

I shake my head at him. “You’re only fifty-two. Why do you need to retire now? Especially when so many people here depend on you—”

A terrible thought occurs to me, remembering the last doctor who surprised me with an out-of-the-blue retirement announcement. “Please tell me you didn’t sell my dad’s clinic to one of those McMedicine franchises like DBCare. You promised me you’d never do that.”

Dr. Haim holds up his hands defensively. “And I kept that promise! My buyer is a single male doctor, like myself. In fact, let me introduce you to your new boss.”

The door I’d only halfway opened obscures the view of the guest chair in front of Dr. Haim’s. I don’t realize there’s someone there until he extends his hand toward it.

Cursing myself for not fixing my ponytail before I came in, I frantically wipe at the soot on my face. This is not a great first impression for the boss I’m about to meet.

But remembering all my pageant training, I take a deep breath and step forward the rest of the way into Dr. Haim’s office with a bright smile and one hand extended.

Only to stop when I see the man sitting in the chair.

My heart thuds, then free falls to my feet.

Everything stops.

Everything fades away.

Everything but the man sitting in front of me.

It’s been three years but I recognize him immediately. From the slick russet brown hair to the direct steel-grey eyes.

Rhys.

The Fine Prince…

Dr. Prince to anyone who wasn’t an ER nurse in the Raines Jewish Emergency Department and didn’t love 90’s sitcoms.

The last time I saw him had been at his trendy Central West End apartment with its view overlooking Forest Park. He’d been regarding me like a king on his throne as I slunk out the door with my overnight bag.

“You may go home this weekend, but when you return, come straight back to me.”

But I’d never seen him again…until now.

“What…what are you doing here?” I demand lowering my hand. I’m too shocked to be polite.

But Rhys stands up like a proper gentleman. And dear God, he’s even finer than I remembered. His dark brown curls are no longer tousled but slicked back. He has a beard now, but somehow his jaw actually appears sharper than before, his grey eyes even more intelligent.

He’s wearing a suit instead of scrubs and a white coat, but I can clearly tell he’s been hitting the gym since I saw him last, not the carbs. Unlike me. I’ve put on at least fifteen pounds, but he’s lean with muscles that fill out his tailored suit.

He regards me for one cold and stiff moment, before saying, “Hello again, Cynda.”

He also still has that sexy English accent, which makes his greeting sound about a thousand times