He placed a small nightstand in front of Annika before he turned to open an overhead cabinet and get things set up. The muscles of his back and arms flexed as he reached inside the cabinet and pulled out a clean sheet, which he draped over the small nightstand, placing Annika’s injured hand on top of it. He left the room for a minute and returned, drying his hands on a clean paper towel. He pulled up a chair and sat down across from her, donned gloves and proceeded to set up his instruments.

His breath came steady and sure, his movements graceful and practiced. He filled the small space, and she was mesmerized. More than aware of the fact that she sat on a bed he slept in and that they were very much alone.

When all seemed set, he gently removed the makeshift bandage he had put on. He cleaned the wound and readied a needle. “This will pinch. It’s just lidocaine.”

It did pinch, and Annika squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to flinch.

“So, who was the asshole?” Daniel did not look up from his work.

“No one.” Tears welled in her eyes. Everything came back. She concentrated on her hand, but when he looked at her, she had to bite her lip to keep the tears from falling. She failed.

“Well, ‘no one’ really had your brother riled up.” He spoke softly, but Annika caught an edge in his voice.

Annika wiped away her tears and swallowed hard. “Why do you care?”

“Because I do.” His lips pressed together, but kindness filled his eyes when he stole a glance at her.

More silence.

“Steven. He’s the asshole.” She found herself speaking into the silence. Must be a technique they taught in nursing school. How to get people to spill their guts without saying anything. “I’m not sure what that says about my taste in men, but we were engaged—and then we weren’t.”

“Seems like you dodged a bullet there.”

Annika stared at him.

He looked up as if he could feel her gaze. “You know, him being an asshole and all that.” Daniel’s touch was gentle as he started the stitches, sending a small thrill through her.

Annika snuck a glance at him as he focused on his work. Long dark lashes framed those green eyes perfectly. His hair was thick, the color of brown autumn leaves that had fallen, with just a touch of wave. Her fingers wiggled at the thought of running them through it. Wait, what?

“Whoa, easy there.” Daniel glanced at her. “No wiggly fingers.”

“Sorry.” She kept still and changed the subject to cover her flush. “Where is everybody?”

“Out on a call. Which is good.” He didn’t look up. Probably a good thing, as Annika could still feel the heat in her face from her wayward thoughts.

“Why?”