Читать книгу Mills & Boon Showcase - Christy McKellen - Страница 39

IT WAS ANOTHER week before she heard from Matt again. A whole week to replay their entire relationship from their friendship to the night they’d made love, and the repercussions that had followed.

Kate was once again in the emergency department, reviewing consultations with the junior residents, when her pager went off. She looked down at the little black box that seemed forever attached to her and didn’t recognize the number.

She reached for the nearest phone and dialed the displayed number. “This is Kate Spence. Someone paged?” she answered once the person on the other end picked up.

“It’s Matt.”

She paused, not sure what to say. Her conversation with Chloe had helped her understand her feelings towards Matt and it felt even harder to talk to him knowing she still loved him.

“Kate.” Matt said her name.

“I’m here.” She had lowered her voice, not sure where the conversation was headed but knowing she didn’t want it overheard.

“We need to get together to talk about that night,” Matt stated, in what Kate considered to be an overly businesslike tone for something so intimate, something so personal. She arched her back in defense and looked around the crowded emergency department to ensure that no one was within earshot.

“I gave you more than enough opportunity to talk about that night nine years ago, Matt. I don’t want to talk about it now.” She waited and heard him exhale slowly.

“I meant the night that Mr. Weber died, Kate. I need to finish your statement to help with the case. But, for the record, a talk about the other night is long overdue.”

It was her turn to sigh now. She felt embarrassed and could feel color flooding her face. She looked down and studied the linoleum floor as if the more intensely she stared, the more she could avoid Matt’s presence on the other end of the phone.

“I can meet you after you’re done working,” Matt offered, saving her from having to respond to his earlier statement.

“Okay, but not at the hospital.” She actually didn’t know where the best place to talk with Matt was. Nowhere, she thought. She wanted to avoid a public scene but it would be worse to be together in a private place.

“I’ll pick you up at nine—will that give you enough time to finish up? You can tell me then where you want to go.” He was giving her control, but the gesture did little to put her at ease.

“Yes, that’s fine. I’ll be waiting outside my place at nine. See you then.” And she hung up before she could embarrass herself further.

Matt was becoming more of a contradiction each time she talked to him. Everything she had believed about him was changing. She’d thought he didn’t want her, but now he did. She’d thought what they had been together had been a lie, but he’d said she’d belong to him always. Now, after nine years, he thought they needed to talk about that night, after he had done everything possible to avoid doing that.

Kate returned to the waiting resident and did her best to focus on the patient’s history. After examining the middle aged woman together and then arranging her admission for management of a partial small bowel obstruction, it was eight p.m., and Kate found herself sprinting home.

By the time she entered the brownstone apartment she was breathless. She had twenty minutes before Matt would be arriving, and she knew she had just enough time to shower and change. Years of rushing to and from the hospital at a moment’s notice had taught her to be efficient.

She showered and washed her hair, toweling it dry and twisting it into a knot on top of her head. She rubbed in the lotion her skin desperately needed after long days spent in the dry, non-infectious conditions the hospital maintained. In her bedroom, she managed to find a pair of clean jeans and a long-sleeved black sweater. She was just bending to put on socks when the front buzzer rang. She slipped her feet into tall black leather boots, grabbed her wool coat and applied lip moisturizer as she locked her apartment and proceeded down the stairs to meet Matt.

He was waiting in the entry. He had obviously been home since the office, because the business suit was gone and in its place was a pair of dark jeans with a dress shirt and blue sweater layered over the top. Despite the layered look there was no mistaking the broadness of his shoulders and the build of his chest. The chest she had seen, had felt pressed against her. Damn, this is not what she needed to be thinking.

Matt didn’t say anything. He held open the front door to her building and followed her out to his car, where he opened the passenger door for her as well. Once she was settled he closed the door securely and circled to the driver’s side. It felt like being taken care of, it felt nice, and she didn’t want to be feeling that again with Matt.

“Where do you want to go?” Matt asked, turning towards her with his full attention.

“I don’t know,” Kate answered honestly, too off balance by the situation to think properly.

“We should probably go somewhere private where our discussion can’t be overheard if we’re talking about the case. That leaves out public restaurants. So the options are my office or my apartment—”

“Office,” Kate answered, before Matt had even finished. There was no way she wanted to be back in his apartment with him. Things had gotten way out of control the other night and she would be a fool to think that couldn’t happen again.

“Okay, as you wish.” He shifted the car into gear and they entered traffic. Kate avoided small talk, not knowing what to say, what it was safe to say, in this new weird dynamic between them. They wove down the streets of Boston towards Matt’s office.

They arrived and Matt parked in the underground garage. He used a swipe card to open the door and unlock the elevator that carried them up to his top-floor office. Once inside, he led her through, not to his office, where she would actually have been uncomfortable given their last interaction there, but to a conference room.

The view was beautiful. Floor-to-ceiling glass windows highlighted Boston at night. The sight of the whole city spread out in front of her made her feel less important and actually calmer about the impending discussion.

“Sparkling water okay for you?” Matt asked, breaking her attention from the beauty of the city.

“Sure.” She took her place in one of the chairs opposite him. “Where do you want to start?” she asked.

He nodded at her and took out a pen and pad of paper. “What was your official role the evening of Mr. Weber’s death?”

“I was the chief surgical resident. I serve as backup in all situations—resident illness, difficult cases and high patient volumes. That night the on-call resident, Dr. Jensen, had been called away to do a retrieval with the transplant team, and I was called in in his absence.” Okay, so maybe this was going to be okay, clean, surgical. She relaxed back into the leather conference room chair.

“What was Dr. Reed’s official role?”

“Dr. Reed was the second on-call vascular surgeon. We have a backup system for all the major surgical disciplines so that in the event a surgeon is tied up in a prolonged surgical case, another patient can still receive timely care and surgical management.”

“How often is the second on call needed?”

“About once every three months, but Tate might be better able to answer that question.”

“Dr. Reed,” Matt stated firmly.

“Pardon?” Kate asked, not understanding what the question was.

“Refer to Tate Reed as Dr. Reed in all your discussion of the case. Referring to him as Tate implies you know him beyond your professional relationship.”

Kate couldn’t tell if this was just Matt the lawyer talking or if it was personal. She decided she didn’t need to know and waited from him to ask another question.

“When were you asked to consult in Mr. Weber’s care?”

“At about ten p.m. I was already in-house, dealing with some issues in a postoperative patient, when the emergency room doctor called me.”

“How soon after did you see him?”

“I went downstairs to the emergency department immediately and started my assessment. While I was examining him, the radiologist called and notified me of the CT scan findings.”

“When did you first try to contact Dr. Reed?” Matt lowered and softened his voice for this question. They were getting into the part of the evening that was less clinical and more personal.

“I called Dr. Reed on his cell phone immediately after I finished on the phone with the radiologist.”

“How many times did you try to call Dr. Reed?”

“I didn’t count, I just kept redialing when I didn’t get through.”

“Did you leave any messages?”

“Yes.”

“Was it unusual for Dr. Reed not to answer his cell phone?”

“Yes.” She wasn’t elaborating on her responses or providing any additional information. The lawyer in Matt actually seemed pleased about that.

“Were there any other occasions when Dr. Reed did not answer his phone?”

“Not prior to that night.”

“Did you have any reason to believe that Dr. Reed was purposely ignoring his calls?”

Here it goes, time to get personal. She took a deep breath and straightened away from the chair, sitting upright and focusing her eyes directly on Matt’s.

“After trying to contact Dr. Reed for twenty minutes, I concluded that he was probably unaware that the attempts being made to contact him were for patient care and subsequently asked the switchboard to reach him.”

“Was his primary contact number for patient care his cell phone?”

“Yes.”

“Then why would he not answer it in his role as second call?”

“That is a question for Dr. Reed. I cannot speak to why he would or would not do something.”

“You were always too smart for your own good, Kate.” He reached down and pulled his sweater off, leaving the dress shirt behind. Then he unbuttoned the cuffs and rolled the sleeves up, exposing his muscled forearms. He leaned on them and stared at her across the table. “I have a copy of Dr. Reed’s phone records from that night, as does the plaintiff’s attorney. They show several calls from your cell phone to Dr. Reed’s, all lasting less than a minute.”

“As I stated, I tried to call Dr. Reed for twenty minutes before relinquishing the responsibility to the switchboard.”

“The calls from you start at eight-thirty p.m., well before your interaction with Mr. Weber.”

“Yes.” She wasn’t going to give more detail. She had no intention of describing to Matt, Tate’s proposal and the reasons behind her rejection.

“If Dr. Reed had not answered your earlier calls, do you think it was appropriate to spend twenty minutes using the same form of contact that had been ineffective up until that point?” He wasn’t enjoying this, she could tell, and that was at least something.

“I was using the form of communication listed by the hospital as Dr. Reed’s first contact. When that failed I appropriately moved on to the switchboard as second contact and focused on Mr. Weber, pending Dr. Reed’s contact and arrival.”

“Your attempts to contact Dr. Reed earlier in the evening, were they related to patient care?”

“No.”

“You have a personal relationship with Dr. Reed?” It was more of a statement than a question. She knew where this was going.

“Yes.”

“What is your relationship with Dr. Reed?” He was agitated now. He ran his fingers through his hair. It was going to be a mutually uncomfortable conversation.

“We have worked together for several years and are friends.” Honest, she was being honest.

“Do you have a romantic relationship with Dr. Reed?”

“No.”

“What was your relationship with Dr. Reed the night of Mr. Weber’s death?”

“I was the chief resident and Dr. Reed was the staff surgeon.”

“What was the nature of your personal relationship with Dr. Reed the night of Mr. Weber’s death?” Matt asked pointedly, his entire attention fixed on Kate.

“We had been dating for one and a half years.”

“Was there anything about your personal relationship that night that would have led Dr. Reed to not answer your calls?”

“Once again that is a question for Dr. Reed. I cannot speak to why he would or would not do something.”

“Did you and Dr. Reed end your romantic involvement that night?” His jaw was clenched and she could see the muscle tense as it extended towards his temple. She hadn’t seen Matt angry a lot when they had first known one another, but she recognized it now.

“Yes.”

“Kate,” he sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair again, “you are answering like you are talking to the enemy, which I’m not. If this ever gets to court then, yes, this is the exact way you are to testify, but tonight, with me, you need to open up. I need to know what happened if I’m going to help you.”

“Are you sure that’s the only reason you want to know?” It was direct and she didn’t back down with her question or when she held his eyes. What she’d had with Matt in the past had been a lie and she damn sure wasn’t going to continue to let anything but the truth be between them now. He didn’t answer.

“It’s not the only reason.” She looked up as he started his response and saw heat in his eyes. They were locked on hers and she felt her whole body flush and pulse in response. What had seemed like a good idea, to call Matt out, now seemed an obvious, horrible mistake. The detached tone of their earlier conversation had left and everything personal was flooding in. She didn’t know how to respond, couldn’t respond, as her lips parted and she struggled to breathe in and out.

“Kate, are you sure you’re ready to hear more? Are you ready to ask me about the things you want to know?” He was being gentle in his voice, the same soft whisper that had once been in her ear, the same careful handling when she was clearly in over her head.

“Why now, Matt? What’s changed?”

“Everything, and nothing, Kate. I’m not the same man you knew, just as you aren’t the same woman, but what’s between us hasn’t gone away and never will.” He reached out and covered her hand with his. It felt warm, and strong, and all-encompassing.

“There wasn’t anything between us.” She pulled her hand from under his and tucked both hands under her legs, away from the temptation to touch him. She couldn’t let herself get drawn back into the belief that their love was mutual.

“How can you say that, Kate? How can you speak to how I felt about us?” He was lawyering her now, using her own argument about not speaking for someone else against her. It left her cold and brought out the clear, precise, objective words and voice she used as a surgeon.

“Because you told me. You looked me in the eye the morning after we made love and you said, ‘Katie, I’m sorry. I don’t love you.’ Then you proved it by walking out and not coming back, not answering my calls, my e-mails, my letters, and running from the sight of me. That’s how I know how you felt about us.” The ache in her throat was intensifying but she was not going to cry, despite the burning feeling that was pooling behind her eyes.

“I lied to you.”

Her eyes flew to his.

“Why? Why would you do that? Was I that disappointing? That bad in bed that it was worth throwing everything else that was good about us away?” Gone now was her composure and with it her pride, and out came the most painful thought she had buried deep within her and avoided voicing at all costs.

She placed her elbows on her legs and buried her face in her hands, unable to face him any longer, unable to hear his response and horrified that she had asked the question. Within seconds she was being lifted from her seat. Matt had reached for her beneath her arms and raised her out of her chair. Startled, she wrapped her arms around his neck for balance and he wrapped his arms around her further, gathering her to him.

Then he crushed his mouth to hers. It wasn’t soft, it wasn’t gentle, it was possessive. The pressure of his lips parted hers and he began to taste her and explore her mouth as if he was a dying man searching for his last drink of water. She was angry, surprised, and entranced all at the same time, until the same urgency and passion from the other night took hold.

She ran her tongue across his lower lip, her response escalating the passion between them. At some point he walked them up against a wall and pressed her against it, shifting her to place himself between her legs and holding her by her bottom, his hands firm and solid. Warmth was spreading through her body until she felt like she was on fire. When they finally broke apart, both were gasping and he slowly slid her down his length to the floor, his erection prominent in the journey.

He cupped one side of her face and brought her gaze to his, and it was the same old Matt. He put his finger against her lips and silenced her before she could talk. “You are the most perfect woman I have ever met, both in bed and out. No woman before or after has ever compared to you. Not a day has gone by in the last nine years that I haven’t wanted to be with you, to hold you, to kiss every inch of your naked body and move inside you until you scream out my name over and over and over again.”

“No.” She shook her head against his words, looking away from the man who was confusing her mind and body.

“Yes, Kate,” he said as he cupped the side of her face again, bringing her eyes to his.

“I don’t believe you,” she said. Actions were more important than words, and his actions had spoken so loudly.

“I did it for you, Kate, I walked away for you, not for me. You were going to throw away medical school, everything you had worked for. You were the most perfect, selfless woman I had ever met and I wasn’t going allow anything to change you or take away your dreams.”

She was stunned by his claim, both by the audacity of the lie and how truthful and heartfelt he seemed to be while making it. She took a deep breath and very clearly and slowly spoke to Matt, looking him in the eye and searching for the truth. “So what you are saying is that if I had been strong enough and gone to medical school in New York, you wouldn’t have broken my heart and walked out on me without looking back?”

“If you had been in New York, I wouldn’t have been strong enough to stay away from you, even if I thought it was for your own good.” The passionate statement fueled her own passion and she reached out and slapped him across his cheek. The sound echoed across the conference room and she was shocked silent by her own action, drawing her hand up to touch her own cheek, mirroring his reaction. She was horrified by her response yet unwilling to apologize.

“It’s been nine years, Matt, you don’t need to bother lying to me any more.”

She didn’t let him reply. He seemed shocked by the turn of events in the last few minutes. She grabbed her jacket and purse and left the conference room, searching for the quickest way out. She didn’t have a keycard to access anything, so instead she headed for the fire stairwell and fled down the twenty-five flights into the building alley. Her heart was pounding as the sound of her boots echoed on the cement stairs. In the dark, in the cold, she caught her breath, her chest heaving. He wanted her. He wanted her enough to lie to her to get her back.