Page 81 of Defiant Hearts

“You can continue reading the contract.”

“I’ll read it later. I trust it’s solid.”

Carson pushed a pen his direction. With no more words necessary, he picked up the pen and signed on the line.

They stood and Carson walked him to the door. He clapped him on the shoulder.

On his way out, Wyatt passed through the main office, where Lex faced Denver.

“—I’ve been digging for two days, Denver. I can’t find much.” Her voice carried an edge of frustration Wyatt hadn’t heard from her before. “No paper trail, no financials, nothing that explains where he went.”

Denver leaned against the desk beside her, arms crossed, jaw tight. “I don’t know anything about it.”

“People don’t just vanish without leaving something behind.” Lex’s stare flicked up, and caught Wyatt watching, she lowered her voice before he passed out of earshot.

Wyatt filed the exchange away without asking. Whatever had Denver’s shoulders that tense and Lex frustrated as hell wasn’t his business tonight.

He had somewhere else to be.

He tucked the folder under his arm and went looking for Whitley. Even as he thrummed with the excitement of sharing his news, he wanted to hear hers more.

She wasn’t in the clinic or the dining hall. She wasn’t curled up in one of the rocking chairs on the deck. He checked the garden, but she wasn’t there either.

His protective alarm bells started to blare even though logic told him she was safe on this ranch, and off it too. Nothing was hunting her anymore.

He finally circled to her room and stepped up to the closed door. Odd—it wasn’t usually closed unless she was going to sleep. That set off a whole new worry in his brain. Was she feeling unwell? Did Dr. Hitchcock have some news that sent her to bed?

He knocked, and she answered immediately.

“Come in.”

He paused, hand on the knob, registering the soft, throaty undertone in her voice. Husky even.

He pushed the door open and stopped dead.

Whitley stood in the middle of the room, completely naked except for a stethoscope hanging around her neck. Her expression flashed between innocent and seductive as hell.

His brain short-circuited, and for three solid heartbeats, his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth.

He quickly shut the door and faced her. “Playing doctor?” he finally managed.

“Nope.” She walked toward him, hips swaying.

His mouth dried out and his cock stiffened behind his fly.

“I officially start as the therapy lodge’s nurse next week. On a permanent basis. Hitchcock signed off on it this afternoon.”

His chest burst with pride. “Congratulations.” He tracked the light jiggle of her breasts. “Though I’m pretty sure that’s not the standard nurse’s uniform.”

“I’m still working on the look.” With a coy glance, she hooked a finger in his shirt collar and tugged him closer. “Maybe you can give me your…feedback,” she whispered in his ear.

He caught her hand and searched her eyes, turning serious for a moment despite the surprise she’d planned. When he brought her fingers to his lips, she issued a small gasp.

“You already know what this job asks of you. Old wounds, bad nights, men who aren’t always okay. You could choose something easier after everything you survived.”

“I know.” She tilted her jaw and settled her gaze on his with the same look he’d seen on the mountain, the ledge and in every other moment she’d refused to be broken. “That’s exactly why I chose it. I’m done letting fear decide what I get to do with my life. I’m a damn good nurse. I can do good. Especially here.”

Every word rang with defiance, and he found himself falling for her all over again.