Fawn’s POV
Right on time, my new nurse arrived. Margaret was in her fifties at a guess, built like she could bench press a small car without breaking a sweat, and—most importantly, looked like she would have zero interest in how square Blake’s jawline was.
“Call me Maggie,” she said, setting down a proper medical bag and eyeing the penthouse like she was mentally counting all the trip hazards. “I’ve read your file. Impressive recovery, but don’t let it go to your head. You’ve still got a long way to go.”
“Aren’t you a bundle of joy.” I grinned at her. “I think we’re going to get on really well.”
She snorted, already wrapping a blood pressure cuff around my arm. “I’ve handled worse than you, dear. Twenty years in trauma care means I’ve seen it all.”
I liked her immediately. After Lena,
