Pushing Her Boundaries

JULIA RACHEL BARRETT

Copyright © 2011

Chapter One

Oh for god’s sake!
Maggie rose from the sticky pleather chair to search for another seat, one that would be out of earshot of the annoying man with his high-tech Bluetooth headset.
Geez, he’s blabbed nonstop for what, an hour?

She looked around. As far as she could tell, every single seat at her gate was occupied. So were all the seats at the next gate. Fuck. Maggie sat back down. The only saving grace was the time. They’d begin boarding in ten minutes or so.

What is he talking about?
She’d spent the past hour with her nose buried in a book, trying to tune him out. Since her attempts had been only marginally successful, she figured she might as well listen outright.

“No, Mike, that won’t work. She has a history of noncompliance. Her blood sugars typically run over four hundred.

“Yeah, I know, but this has been an ongoing issue. You can try her on an oral medication, but if my experience is any indication, she’ll fill the prescription and then never take it. Look at the chart.

“I’ve sent her to our diabetes educator…repeatedly. I’m not even sure they’ll give her another appointment. She takes up hours of their time, time that could be better spent with a patient who actually wants our help. This woman has no interest.

“Well, did you ask how much she’s drinking?

“Of course she’ll tell you she’s only drinking a beer or two a day. Mike, get real. This woman is a lost cause.

“I’m obligated? I’m her doctor, not her parent. She has to take some responsibility for her own health. I can’t live with her twenty-four seven, watching every single thing she puts in her mouth, wagging my finger.”

Great bedside manner. What a pompous ass
.

“Look. You want to put her in the hospital and try to bring her sugars under control, be my guest. For the next ten days, she’s your patient. Maybe you’ll have better luck with her than I’ve had.”

Probably
.

“So did the results of that stress test come back?

“What did it show?

“Um-hmm. You refer him to Brian?

“Good.”

As Maggie looked up, the man glanced in her direction. Her cheeks grew hot. She’d been caught eavesdropping.

Wait a minute. Why should I be embarrassed? It’s not like I can help it. He’s talking right in my ear
.
Oh my god, he did not just wink at me. Jerk.

“Yeah, Mike, listen, I’m going to be boarding soon, so we’ll have to wrap this up. What about that…uh, what about the case of possible pancreatitis? Yeah, the woman I sent to the ER yesterday. Is she any better or are we talking gallstones and surgery?

“Hepatitis, huh? What does her blood work show?

“Hep C positive? Since when?”

Maggie saw the man shake his head.

“Damn skin-poppers. I knew it was just a matter of time before she’d stick herself with a contaminated needle. I can’t tell you how often I warned her about that.”

Skin-poppers? This guy’s talking about methamphetamine. Christ, I’m glad I didn’t go to medical school.
Hearing the loudspeaker click on, Maggie glanced over at the desk. She searched through her carry-on bag for her ticket, waiting for the announcement to board. She was A-1. That should get her away from this guy sooner rather than later.

Rising from her seat, Maggie slung her bag over her shoulder and headed to the gate. She rolled her eyes when she realized that the passenger standing right behind her was
him
, and he was still blabbing.
Great, just great
. Maggie shot him a sideways glance. At least he didn’t dress the part. She’d never know he was a doctor by his clothes. He wore a light gray T-shirt tucked loosely into faded blue jeans, blue jeans that hung low on narrow hips. His feet were covered by a pair of worn leather boots.
Nice body. Too bad he doesn’t have a personality to go with it
.

The man laughed into his headset and Maggie’s eyes automatically traveled up to his face. He grinned at her and she quickly averted her eyes, but not before she caught a glimpse of straight white teeth and a pink tongue, sensuous lips, a Grecian nose, high cheekbones, wide-set sea-blue eyes, and tousled, dark brown hair that looked as if some woman had just run her fingers through it. Maggie flushed again. She knew he’d caught her checking him out, damn it.
What is it about jerks? They always come in such nice packages.
He held his boarding pass in his left hand, his phone in his right. Unable to stop, Maggie scanned the boarding pass for his number. A-2. Crap.
With my luck, he’ll sit next to me
.
I wonder if he’ll shut off his phone.

On Maggie’s last flight, her seatmate had texted during the entire trip. When she asked him about it, he’d laughed and claimed to be texting with the copilot. He’d said, “Ain’t it great how he can text during takeoff and landing?” Maggie hoped that was a joke. Annoying son of a bitch.

“Hey, A-1, you need any help with that bag?”

Maggie started. “Huh?”

“Your bag. It’s sliding off your shoulder.” Apparently he’d ended his phone call.

“Uh, no thanks.” Maggie lifted the bag and shifted the strap back up over her shoulder.

“Looks heavy. You don’t believe in traveling light?”

Maggie rolled her eyes. “Is it any of your business?”

“No, just making conversation. You’ve been listening in on my conversation and staring daggers at me for over an hour. Thought I’d return the favor.” He grinned at her, showing off those straight white teeth.

“Are you always this obnoxious?”

He laughed. “Only when I think a woman is especially cute.”

“Oh, for Christ’s sake.” Slinging her bag to the other shoulder, jostling him in the process just to be annoying, Maggie strode toward the man at the computer kiosk. He scanned her boarding pass and checked her through with the words “Hand this to the flight attendant, please.” Maggie snatched the boarding pass back from him and stomped down the ramp as hard as one could stomp in flip-flops, irritated as hell. Double jerk. Triple jerk. The hair on the back of her neck prickling, she could hear his deep chuckle as he followed behind. He was probably looking at her ass.

Of course
he
didn’t have a carry-on, just the equipment that seemed de rigueur for guys like him, a cell phone and what looked like an e-reader. He personified the reason she wasn’t in a relationship. Her last boyfriend, her fiancé, had turned out to be a self-centered, narcissistic, lying, cheating, bigamous pig once she’d got past the superficial charm. This man was no different. He was probably his own sun, moon, and stars.

Maggie tossed her purse onto an empty bulkhead seat. She stepped out of the aisle, allowing the man to pass by, waiting for an opportunity to shove her bag into the overhead bin.

“Let me get that for you.”

The strap slid off her shoulder and before she could protest, he’d shoved it into the overhead bin.

“You want the aisle seat or the window seat?”

“Huh?”

“How erudite. You want the aisle seat or the window seat?”

“Wait just a minute…”

“All right,” the man interrupted. “I’ll take the window seat. That way I’ll have something to lean my head on. Unless you’d prefer I lean it on your shoulder.” He grinned at her again.

Cheeks burning, Maggie sputtered, but she couldn’t come up with an appropriately rude response. The man shrugged and slid by her, plopping down into the window seat.

“Miss?”

Maggie turned around to face the flight attendant.

“Would you mind taking the middle seat? This gentleman is recovering from a broken hip and he needs the aisle seat.”

Maggie gave up.
Yeah. Sure. Whatever
. “Of course I’ll take the middle seat.” She moved her purse and sat down.

“Miss? You’ll have to stow your purse in the overhead bin.”

Crap
. Maggie heard her seatmate snort in amusement.

“All right, just let me get my book.” She fished through her purse, pulled out her paperback, and zipped it closed in case things shifted during the flight. She handed it to the flight attendant.

“You ought to get one of these.” The man waved his e-reader in her direction. “Lightweight, stores about a thousand books. I can even get baseball scores on this sucker.”

“Goodie for you,” Maggie mumbled.

“You know, you’d be much more attractive if you’d lose the frown.”

Maggie sat down. “The frown?”

“Yeah. We sat there in the terminal for an hour and forty-five minutes and I didn’t see you smile once.”

“How would you know? You never stopped talking on your cell phone,” Maggie retorted, fastening her seat belt.

The man laughed. “I knew you were paying attention.”

Ya think?
“It was pretty damn hard not to.”

“Miss, would you mind helping me with my seat belt?”

Oh god, the perks of sitting in the middle seat
…

“I would be happy to help you with your seat belt.” Maggie lifted the armrest and reached between the seats, fishing for the end of the older gentleman’s seat belt. She helped him buckle it and tightened the belt for him. She sat back in her seat and propped her legs up against the bulkhead, closing her eyes before either of her two seatmates could say anything else.

“I could use some help with my seat belt.”

The words were soft and meant for her ears alone. Maggie leaned forward and rested her head in her hands. She groaned.

“I’m teasing. Lighten up. You act like you’re going to a funeral.”

Maggie opened her eyes and looked at him. “How do you know I’m not? How do you know I’m not flying to a funeral?”

He stared at her for a moment.
His eyes really are a remarkable blue
.

“Are you?”

“Am I what?”

“Flying to a funeral?”

Should I lie and make him feel like an ass? No, he wouldn’t feel like an ass
. “No.”

“Didn’t think so.” He settled back into his seat. “So where are you headed? Denver?”

Maggie shook her head. “Not that it’s any of your business, but no, I’m going to Minneapolis.”

“Really? Me too.”

Great. Just great
.
I wonder if he plans to blab the entire flight
.
Two entire flights
.
Maybe I’m a substitute for his cell phone.
Maggie smiled at the thought.

“That’s better. You’re very pretty when you smile.”

“Do you try to be insulting or is it your modus operandi?”

“Who’s being insulting? I’m stating a fact. You’re very pretty when you smile.”