Читать книгу It Happened In Vegas - Amy Ruttan - Страница 9

Three years later

“I THINK YOU’LL be very happy here as our head of trauma.”

Jennifer smiled politely at the chief of surgery, Dr. Ramsgate, as they walked the halls of the hospital.

“All Saints Hospital is one of the top hospitals in Las Vegas, and with our new trauma wing opening soon …” Dr. Ramsgate continued and Jennifer tuned him out, only because she knew all the benefits of All Saints Hospital—it’s what had attracted her to this facility above all others in Nevada. The new trauma ward under construction would be the most modern in the country.

And her father was happy she’d returned to Nevada in time for his campaigning.

How good would it look if his surgeon daughter was working in her home state? Only Jennifer hadn’t come home for her father.

She’d come home to lick her wounds after her cardiothoracic fiancé had jilted her and then stolen the research they’d worked on together, before marrying someone else. There was no way she was going to remain in the same hospital in Boston with him, let alone the same state.

She’d moved back to be near her family. To hide from the humiliation. To remember why she’d become a surgeon.

Even if it had meant turning down a job at a prestigious Minnesota clinic.

At least it’s warmer in Las Vegas.

So that was a plus. She wouldn’t miss the winters.

Jennifer had had to get back to her roots and, most important, she was going to keep away from men. Especially other male surgeons.

She wasn’t going to make that mistake twice.

“And here’s our current trauma department. It’s not much, but it’s served us well.” Dr. Ramsgate was waiting for her to say something. “Of course, once the new wing is complete, this will close.”

“It’s wonderful. It’s laid out well.” It was a minor fib as she hadn’t really even looked at it, but a quick scan told her she wasn’t being totally false. It was laid out well. It was open and had lots of trauma rooms, with easy access to get gurneys in and out. Though the new trauma department would be better.

The ER was quiet for the moment, though she was sure that could change on a moment’s notice, like so many trauma departments.

She was eager to get this walk-through over and done with so she could throw on some scrubs, a yellow isolation gown and get her hands dirty. Figuratively, of course.

Until then, she had to play nice with the chief of surgery.

“Come, I’ll introduce you to the staff on duty before we head back upstairs to finish your paperwork.” Dr. Ramsgate motioned to the charge desk, where a surgeon stood with his back to them. Jennifer’s brow furrowed, because the surgeon leaning over the desk charting tugged at the foggy corners of her mind.

There was something familiar about his stance.

“Dr. Rousseau, this is Dr. Mills, the new head of trauma.”

The surgeon standing at the desk turned to greet her and when she came face to face with him, the foggy memory that had been eluding her came rushing back, like a tsunami of the senses. It was an overload in her brain, the way it had happened.

Lake Tahoe, a brilliant moon, starry sky and a whispered request brushing against her ear that still made her body zing with anticipation even years later.

“A kiss, in the moonlight.”

It had been three years and she wondered if he remembered her. He’d changed and so had she. His buzz cut had grown out, but his ebony hair was trimmed and well kept. There was stubble on his face, but it suited him. Even more than the clean-shaven face.

And a scar ran down his left cheek and she couldn’t help but wonder if it came from his time overseas. There was no wedding ring on his finger, but that didn’t mean anything. He might’ve come from surgery and taken it off.

His hazel eyes widened for just a moment, then he held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Mills.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Dr. Rousseau.”

Dr. Ramsgate nodded, pleased. “Well, we’ll let you get back to work, Dr. Rousseau. I have much more to show you, Dr. Mills.”

Jennifer found it harder to breathe, her pulse was thundering in her ears like an out-of-control high-speed train and it was like she was going to derail right here in the emergency room.

Dr. Rousseau nodded, but didn’t tear his gaze from hers until Dr. Ramsgate stepped between them, breaking the connection. If there even was one. Maybe she was losing her mind a bit.

What had happened between them had only been a fleeting moment.

“Dr. Mills, are you ready? I’d like to introduce you to some of the other staff members you’ll be in charge of.” Confusion was etched across Dr. Ramsgate’s face at her absentmindedness.

“Yes, of course.” She fell into step beside Dr. Ramsgate, though not without stealing a quick look over her shoulder at the charge desk, but Dr. Rousseau had disappeared; evaporated like he’d been nothing more than a figment of her imagination.

Only he wasn’t.

He wasn’t a foggy piece of a memory. One that she only allowed herself to think of from time to time. The one perfect romantic moment she’d had in her life. That soldier hadn’t left her standing at an altar, hadn’t stolen her work, and the kiss he’d given her still made her blood heat. Even after all this time.

This was going to be bad.

She had no inclination to allow her heart to open again, especially to another surgeon.

Jennifer knew she’d have to avoid Dr. Nick Rousseau and that wasn’t going to be an easy thing. Especially now she was in charge of his department.

She was in serious trouble.

Nick put the chart back in the filing cabinet. He’d moved away from the charge desk when Dr. Ramsgate had stepped between them, breaking the connection between him and Jennifer. It had been the escape he’d needed.

He wasn’t sure if Jennifer remembered him, from the look on her face. Maybe he just looked familiar to her, someone she couldn’t place. Which was fine. It was good she didn’t remember him, but he certainly remembered her.

There was no way he could forget that night.

Not when it was burned into his brain.

Not when every time he’d closed his eyes for the last three years he’d been able to feel the silky softness of her skin under his fingertips, inhale the fruity scent of her hair and taste the sweetness of her lips.

Though that’s all that had happened.

Just a kiss.

Well, several kisses, but it had been all he’d needed to carry him through his long tour of duty. When he’d been working at the front line, patching up soldiers, saving lives and, yes, even when one thoughtless act of bravery had cost his own brother dearly.

Nick clenched his fist and shook those thoughts away.

No, he wouldn’t think about Marc and he wouldn’t think about his brother hating him right now, because he couldn’t let those emotions out to air. When he thought of that moment, he hated himself. He’d let his anger get the better of him.

There was already talk circulating around the hospital about him, about his rages and about how he’d put his fist through a window once.

He was doing better. Or he thought he was.

Maybe it was seeing her again—whatever it was, it shook him. He’d been surprised to learn she was a surgeon.

That night they’d spent on the beach, talking to each other, she’d never told him that she was a physician, in particular a trauma surgeon.

Then again, he’d never opened up about why he was going overseas on his tour of duty. He hadn’t told her that he was an army medic.

She’d changed, but not so much that he hadn’t recognized her. The long blond hair was gone. She sported a pixie cut, which still suited her. It gave him a better view of her long, slender neck and he knew that if he kissed that spot under her ear she sighed with pleasure.

Don’t think about that.

Nick stifled a groan and left the charting area and headed toward the doctors’ lounge to get a cup of coffee.

He didn’t have time to date and had no interest in it.

After all, he was too irresponsible for any kind of settled life.

At least, that’s what Marc had always said. And, frankly, Nick didn’t deserve to be happy. Solitude was his penance for what he’d done.

After the accident that had paralyzed his brother and left him unscathed, he’d finished his tour of duty with an honorable discharge. Though there was nothing honorable in his mind.

If he hadn’t tried to run out when the medic unit had been under fire to save his buddy, Marc never would’ve followed him.

And though he’d saved his friend and was deemed a hero, the IED had exploded, paralyzing Marc, leaving Nick without a brother.

Not that Marc had died, but he’d cut Nick out of his life. It was like Marc was dead. Nick was definitely dead to Marc.

He was a ghost.

So Nick had left him alone, like Marc wanted. He hadn’t returned home to Chicago. He’d settled in Nevada. In the place he’d last remembered being happy. With the vast, open desert plains and the mountains and foothills to the north, a man could get lost.

And he was lost. His parents didn’t speak with him and neither did his sister. Marc needed them more anyway.

Here in Las Vegas, a man could be forgotten and maybe he’d be able to shake the ghosts of his past.

He just hadn’t expected he’d run into one of them.

Jennifer had never told him she was a surgeon and he’d thought she was in Carson City, which was on the other side of the state, six hours away.

Then her name rang more bells.

Jennifer Mills.

She’d been at that state dinner thrown by Senator Mills. Was she his daughter? The one who’d been jilted? He didn’t know much about it because he didn’t really care about gossip columns. Heck, he didn’t even have cable. Jennifer had her own cross to bear and he wouldn’t pry.

Nick scrubbed his hand over his face. Dammit. She was off-limits for sure. Senator Mills had been the one to present him with his Medal of Honor for bravery. One that he kept hidden away under his socks because he didn’t deserve it; especially after what had happened to Marc.

He was no hero.

He was irresponsible. Always getting into scrapes, and Marc had always been there to bail him out.

Now Marc wasn’t there for him anymore.

Even though Nick’s wanderlust and sense of adventure still ate away at him, he didn’t feed the beast.

He just wanted to work. To be the best damn surgeon he could be. Maybe to show his brother he wasn’t reckless and irresponsible.

Jennifer’s appearance complicated things.

Nick poured himself a cup of coffee. The thought that she’d been involved with someone else made him feel a bit jealous.

Though he had no claim on her.

They’d only exchanged first names. They’d only shared a few passionate kisses under the stars.

He could work with her. Not that he had a choice, because in Las Vegas he was a nobody.

He wasn’t a hero, he wasn’t a soldier. He was just a face in the crowd and that’s the way he liked it.

Nick slouched down in a chair, leaning his head against the low back to close his eyes for just a moment.

The door slammed and he sat up. Jennifer had entered, and pink tinged her cheeks when she saw him sitting there. He liked the way she blushed; she’d blushed like that against the sand when he’d kissed her.

“Sorry, Dr. Rousseau. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“I wasn’t asleep, Dr. Mills. I thought you were with Dr. Ramsgate?”

“He had a quick cardio consult and he told me I could get a cup of coffee in here.” She nervously brushed at her hair, tucking the short strands behind her delicate ear, like she’d done when they’d first met. Only there were no more long strands.

She moved over to the coffeemaker and poured herself a cup, then proceeded to stand there, staring at the bulletin board, which was full of ads of stuff for sale and take-out menus. Just junk. She fidgeted with her hair again.

Nick could sense she felt uncomfortable. The tension was thick in the air. He knew the feeling of a standoff. The calm before the storm.

“You can have a seat. I don’t bite and you should know that.”

Jennifer spun around and frowned. “You do remember me, you dingbat.”

Nick couldn’t help but chuckle. “Dingbat?”

“I don’t curse much. I try not to …”

“Dingbat isn’t cursing. Now, the F word, that’s cursing.”

She winced. “Why did you act like you hadn’t met me?”

Nick cocked an eyebrow. “You did the same thing!”

“I thought you were a soldier.” She sat down in the chair across from him.

“I was. I was an army medic.”

“You never told me that.” A smile played around her kissable lips.

“Ah, we’re going to play that game, eh? Well, you never exactly told me that you were a surgeon, or a senator’s daughter, for that matter.”

She blushed again. “Fine. You have me, but I would really appreciate it if you wouldn’t spread around the fact I’m a senator’s daughter.”

“Is your father crooked?” he teased.

Jennifer’s eyes narrowed. “Hardly. I just don’t want the notoriety to follow me. I’m a damn good trauma surgeon. I don’t want that to cloud my team’s judgment of me. I earned my reputation.”

Nick nodded. “Of course.”

“Good.” She bit her bottom lip. “Well, I’d better see if Dr. Ramsgate is through. It’s good to see you again, Dr. Rousseau. I’m glad no harm came to you overseas.”

Nick didn’t respond as she got up and left the doctors’ lounge.

“I’m glad no harm came to you overseas.”

Even though she’d truly meant it, it still stung.

He touched the scar on his face. The only injury he’d sustained when the IED had blown.

Could his brother say the same? His brother had been sent home a year early, had had to leave the service.

Nick got to finish out his tour of duty.

Nick could still walk, run and keep up with the fast pace of trauma.

Marc couldn’t.

So, no, he hadn’t come back home unharmed.

Nick crushed the empty coffee cup in his hand and tossed it into the trash. Crushing the cup in his hand sated his ire, but only just. There was only one thing he could do to control this—he was going to bury himself in his work.

He was going to forget that stolen moment on Lake Tahoe with Jennifer, because he didn’t deserve that kind of happiness.

Nick was going to be the best surgeon he could be and maybe then his brother would think better of him and nothing, not even a woman, was going to distract him.

He couldn’t let it.