The Wish List Read Online Free Page B

move.
    “Look, Dr. Murphy, this isn’t heavy, and I absolutely promise you there’s no dynamite inside. You’ve got arms, and palms that are flat surfaces. Use them.”
    With that, Faith practically dropped the box into thin air. To her relief, he reached out automatically and caught it clumsily. Thank goodness. His reflexes were still good.
    Besides, she would have had a lot of explaining to do if she’d broken some of the fragile items inside.
    But she offered no words of praise for what was, after all, an accomplishment for a man who’d been sitting around vegetating for eighteen months. Faith wasn’t sure why. Normally she tried to offer whatever words of encouragement she could, to build on every little step. But there was something in Nathan’s eyes, his stance—something that told her that he’d back away if she made even one small compliment. She’d just have to hope that he had offered himself a mental pat on the back, that he even cared.
    He was making his way to a dusty table, trying to figure out some way to slide the box off of his arms with hands that really had no gripping ability when Faith opened her mouth again.
    “By the way, Doctor,” she said, turning toward the door. “The reason I was late was because there was an incredible mix-up with my supplies when I went to check them out today. You wouldn’t, by any chance, have called the hospital and tried to sabotage my equipment list, would you?”
    She glanced back over her shoulder and saw that Nathan had somehow managed to dump the box. He was staring at her, his brow raised, the closest thing she’d seen to a smile lifting one corner of his mouth.
    “What do you think, Ms. Reynolds?”
    Faith studied him for a full five seconds more, watched the too intense eyes mocking her, daring her to turn and run.
    Slowly, she shrugged one shoulder and smiled smugly. “I think that would have been too petty even for someone who dislikes me as much as you do. More likely, it was just typical hospital red tape.”
    The half smile left his lips. “Believe me, if I’d thought a move like that would have gotten rid of you, I would have tried it.”
    “That’s good to know.” She opened the door. “Even anger can be good if it gets you off your backside and doing things. I’ll keep that in mind in case you need a nudge during treatment.”
    Nathan moved with a swiftness that nearly froze Faith’s breath in her chest. She took a step back, but even so, when he came to a halt, he was nearly standing on top of her. His warmth and the clean, male scent of him surrounded her, wrapped her in a drugging awareness of him. She could reach out and rake her fingertip across the line of his jaw if she wanted to. His height forced her to tip her head back just to look into his face. And the expression that she saw there wasn’t reassuring or kind.
    “So nothing shakes you, does it, Ms. Reynolds?” he asked. “I’ve insulted you, threatened you, and practically shoved you out the door and you stand there telling me that it’s good for me to get ticked off. What exactly would it take, I wonder—just how hard would a man have to push—if he wanted to make you run?”
    Staring up into Nathan’s face, Faith wondered if he knew just how very close she was to bolting right this second. Only necessity and Dr. Anderson’s orders were keeping her here. Because every time she stared into Nathan’s eyes and saw the pain he tried to blot out with anger, she wanted to run. Badly. Run right out the door and keep on running for the rest of her life.
    Those eyes spoke to her, pulled at her, and she didn’t want that. She didn’t want to feel anything for this man other than a clean-cut professional interest in his treatment. But yes, there were definitely things that shook her.
    He was one of them. Still, she would give up speaking entirely before she’d let him know that.
    “Excuse me, I’ll be back in just a minute.” She eased away from him, fighting for