Читать книгу Tempted At Twilight - Jamie Pope - Страница 10

Chapter 1

“Have you taken leave of your senses?”

Elias Bradley sat in the chief of surgery’s office and quietly listened as she berated him. It wasn’t the first time she had done so. He seemed to have a way of getting under his boss’s skin.

“You’re not even cleared to be back yet, and you get into an altercation with a patient’s boyfriend?”

Elias’s already injured hand was radiating with pain, a reminder of the scuffle he had gotten into, but he remained silent, knowing it was better not to speak until Dr. Lundy was done yelling.

“How can I make you head of trauma if you act so impulsively?”

Impulsive.

It wasn’t the first time he had heard that word used to describe him. Teachers. Girlfriends. Even his own family had said it. But being impulsive wasn’t always a bad thing. His rash decisions had gotten him pretty far.

“With all due respect, ma’am. One of the things that makes me a good trauma surgeon is the fact that I think and act very quickly. I saw a man grab a patient and try to yank her out of the hospital before she could be treated. I feel that my actions were necessary and in the end protected that patient from further harm.”

He was impressed with how calmly he defended himself. He wanted to scream, That guy was an abusive jackass. Somebody should have kicked his ass a long time ago. But he kept that in. Sometimes he did think before he acted.

“You punched him!” she roared. “Hard enough to break his nose, and even if I cared about his face or the potential lawsuit that might be coming, it doesn’t compare to how much I care about your hands. What good is a surgeon who cannot operate? Right now, you are a highly paid pain in my behind.”

He had never heard the normally proper chief speak that way, but he had never seen her this enraged before, either. “I was only in the hospital to try to make myself useful. Even if I can’t operate, I can work in the ER. I can still see patients.”

“No, you cannot. I handpicked your orthopedic surgeon and your occupational therapist. They have both reported to me that you are nowhere near able to return to surgery, that even if you weren’t a surgeon, that you would need to be on light duty. Working in the ER in the biggest, busiest hospital in Miami isn’t anyone’s idea of light duty. And taking into account your penchant for championing the abused and less fortunate, I’m afraid I’m going to have to ban you from the hospital until you are medically cleared.”

“You’re banning me!” He’d never thought it would have come to that. At most he’d thought she would yell at him and relegate him to paperwork, which he would be fine with, because he loved being in the hospital. He loved the sights and the smells and knowing that what he did made a difference. He didn’t have much else in his life at the moment. His siblings were all very happily married and busy with their own families. There was no special woman to go home to. His life revolved around the hospital. He ate all his meals there. He slept there much of the time. Hell, all the people he socialized with worked there. He wasn’t sure what he would do with himself if he couldn’t come to work.

“Yes, you are banned. I have put an alert out to all the security guards that if they find you here, you are to be escorted out. Your swipe card has been deactivated.”

“You’re treating me like a criminal!”

“No, I’m treating you like an asset that needs to be protected.” She took a calming breath. “You are probably one of the most talented young surgeons I’ve seen in years, and you are excelling in a difficult, highly specialized field. You want to take over as head of trauma, but how can I promote you if I can’t trust you to act rationally? Your hand is not even a quarter of the way healed, and you go and punch someone. Did you think about your career? Did you think about the potentially irrevocable damage you could have done to your future?”

The truth was he hadn’t thought of it at all. He’d just acted. That big guy dragging that scared woman through the ER had made his blood boil. He wished he could say that if it happened again, he would have called security or ignored it, but he knew himself too well. Hand damage be damned. He still would’ve knocked that guy on his ass and given him a big taste of his own medicine.

He had two sisters. He hoped some guy would do the same for them if they were ever in that situation.

“You have nothing to say to that?”

“Nothing that wouldn’t cause you to yell at me again.”

She sighed and shook her head. “Go home, Dr. Bradley. In fact, leave Miami. You’ll be out of commission for quite some time. Do something you wouldn’t normally do. But considering the way you broke your hand, maybe you should sit in a room and not move for a couple of months.”

A couple of months.

A nauseating twinge rolled in his stomach. He didn’t think he could sit at home for a couple of months. He was immediately mad at himself again for breaking his hand. He had been doing one of those extreme mud runs with his brother and brother-in-law. He had crawled under barbed wire and had been submerged in a fifty-foot pool of mud. He had even run through fire, only to get tangled in the cargo net. He was on his way down when his foot got caught, and as he yanked it free, the runner just above him lost his balance and they both fell. The other guy had landed on top of Elias as he had put his hands out to break his fall. It was almost a twenty-foot drop.

He had replayed the incident in his mind a thousand times that day, but there was no way he could have prevented it. No way he could have changed the outcome. He had badly broken his hand and wrist, the pain so extreme he had passed out for a moment. He had to have surgery, from which he had yet to heal. His hand had already been swollen and practically immobile before he punched the guy. He was surprised he’d even been able to make a fist. Lord knew he couldn’t do anything else with it. But that was the power of adrenaline.

His older brother, Carlos, was a baseball superstar who had been on the disabled list for nearly a year because of a ruptured Achilles tendon. Elias had lectured him about overdoing it, demanded that Carlos rest, acted like the smug doctor he was. But when he was doling out that advice, he’d never thought he would end up in nearly the same situation.

“Get out of my office, Dr. Bradley. You have been working nonstop since medical school. You’re a young man. Take some time to enjoy yourself.”

He stood up and left the hospital. It wasn’t bad advice. He just didn’t know how the hell he was going to do it.

* * *

Cricket Warren glanced at her phone...again. Only four minutes had passed since she’d last looked, but those four minutes seemed like a hundred years to her. She was seated in the bar area of a small oceanfront restaurant on Hideaway Island, waiting for a ghost from her past to appear. Well...maybe ghost wasn’t the right word, but she wasn’t sure what to call the person she was supposed to be meeting. They certainly weren’t friends. They never had been. Just two people who happened to be born to parents who ran in the same social circle.

“Miss? Are you sure I can’t get you something to drink?” the bartender asked her from behind the bar. “It’s still happy hour for another fifteen minutes. Drinks are half-price. Our special is pineapple margaritas. They come in a pineapple cup. Everyone seems to like them.”

Cricket was tempted. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but she must look kind of sad sitting in a bar by herself, twiddling her thumbs. “Oh, I probably shouldn’t. I’m still waiting for my friend.”

“Your friend is late,” a man said. He was sitting at the end of the bar with a domestic beer in his hand. His back had been to her most of the time she was there, his eyes glued to some sporting event on the large television over the bar, but she had definitely noticed him. She didn’t have to see his face to know he was one of those hypermasculine men whose pheromones filled the air and made otherwise sensible women turn into a pool of senseless goopy jelly. His was broad backed, tall, muscular. He sat up very straight, which Cricket’s mother would have appreciated. He wore his inky-black hair in overlong curls, which might have been considered boyish or feminine on another man, but worked on him. He was brown skinned, some beautiful shade that she couldn’t begin to describe. And just when she decided that she had better stop cataloging his features, he turned to face her.

Well...damn.

He might be the most gorgeous man she had ever laid eyes on, and a tiny spark of recognition went off in her brain. She had seen this man before, but she couldn’t immediately place where she would have met such an extraordinary-looking human.

Maybe in her dreams.

“Yes,” she said quietly, hoping he wouldn’t hear her embarrassing breathlessness. “My friend is quite late.”

“Have a drink. They won’t get mad at you. And if they do, they aren’t the kind of friend you need.”

She opened her mouth to speak but then hesitated.

“I’ll buy you the drink. My sister-in-law loves those pineapple things. You should try it.”

Cricket was twenty-nine years old. She spoke four languages fluently and had studied with the best and brightest around the world, but she’d never had a stranger offer to buy her a drink in a bar.

Ever.

But then again, guys never made passes at pudgy girls with two PhDs who were named after bugs.

“Say yes,” the man said to her, the corner of his mouth curling in an appealing way.

She swallowed hard and warned herself not to be the awkward person she was ninety-nine percent of the time. “I need to know who I’m saying yes to.”

“Elias.” He got off his stool and walked over to her, his hand extended.

“Cricket,” she responded absently as she took note of his hand. Normally she introduced herself as Cree, because scientists named after bugs didn’t usually garner respect, but this time she had forgotten and introduced herself by her given name.

He had recently had surgery. There was a barely healed incision running from his wrist all the way up the palm of his hand and one along his thumb.

“Do you inspect everyone’s hand you shake so closely?” he asked. It was then she realized that she hadn’t shaken his hand at all—she was holding it with both of hers as her thumb ran along the still-angry incision line.

“You shouldn’t be shaking my hand. Yours is swollen. You should wave, or do that head-nod thingy that guys do.”

“Would a wink suffice?” He took the chair next to her at the four-top.

“Oh, no. Winks can be kind of creepy, don’t you think?”

He smiled at her, fully this time, showing off a set of perfectly white teeth. He became even more gorgeous, if that were possible. “They could be sexy, too. I guess it depends on who is doing the winking.”

“And on the winkee. No?”

“I wouldn’t find it creepy if you winked at me. Is your name really Cricket?”

“Yes. Like the bug,” she admitted with a small sigh.

“That can’t be true.” He laughed. “Your parents must have thought it was a cute name for a girl.”

“No, they thought I looked like a bug, so they named me Cricket. Cricket Moses Warren.”

He slanted a brow at her. “Moses as in part-the-seas Moses?”

“I suppose, but I think I’m named for my great-great-grandfather, who was a conductor on the Underground Railroad. His name was Moses.”

He winked at her. “It’s nice to meet you, Cricket Moses. I am Elias James Bradley.”

“Oh, how normal of you to be called Elias James. I suppose your parents were too unimaginative to name you after a noisy, beady-eyed bug and an ancestor of the opposite sex.”

He grinned at her. “No, I’m named after a soap actor and my father.” He raised his hand to signal the bartender. “A pineapple margarita for my new friend, and another beer for me.”

“Friends now, are we? I don’t even know one embarrassing thing about you, and you know two about me.”

She wasn’t normally so chatty with strangers, especially deliciously beautiful strange men, but she was feeling kind of nervous. “You know I just had surgery on my hand and I have very limited movement in it.”

“Is that embarrassing?”

“Yes. I work with my hands. I can’t do my job now because of it.”

“You work with your hands, huh? Are you an MMA fighter?”

“No.”

“A football player?”

“No.”

“A boxer? Did you hit someone so hard your hand shattered in tiny little pieces?”

“I didn’t break my hand at work.”

“How did you break it? Freaky sex accident?”

“You’re weird.” He grinned.

“I know.” She nodded, not believing she wasn’t censoring herself like she normally would. “I have been my entire life.”

“I like it.” He looked down at his swollen hand and attempted to bend his fingers without much success. “I broke it doing a mud race. I fell from a twenty-foot landing and then had a 250-pound man land on top of me. My wrist snapped.”

“Ouch.” She gently took his large, swollen hand in hers again and studied it. “Your hand should still be immobilized. Judging from the healing of this incision, you’re about a month post-op.”

He frowned at her. “Are you a doctor?”

“No,” she lied—or half lied. She was a doctor, just not a medical one, and according to her mother, her PhDs were little more than expensive pieces of paper. “I just know a little about this.”

“Who’s this man you are meeting?” Elias asked as the bartender set down their drinks in front of them.

“I’m not meeting a man,” she said as she studied the drink she’d allowed him to order for her. It actually came in a hollowed-out pineapple and was very interesting to look at.

“You’re not?”

“No.” She picked up her drink and took a sip. She found it delightful. “Why would you think I was meeting a man?”

“Because you are a beautiful woman sitting in a bar with a nervous look on your face.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” She grabbed his beer and slid it away from him. “How many drinks have you had?”

She was smart. She was creative. She was great at board games, but she had never thought she was beautiful. She tried to look her best. But at most she was pleasant to look at.

“I didn’t even have a sip of my second. I wouldn’t tell you that you were beautiful unless I thought you were. I like your hair and your mouth and your huge doe eyes.”

She tried to ignore the fact that his compliment made her feel warm all the way down to her toes. “That’s why my parents named me Cricket. Because of my eyes. They call me Bug.”

“Do you mind?”

“I didn’t at first, but then everyone in school started to call me Bug, and not in the cute, endearing way my father intended.”

He nodded. “That must have sucked.”

“It did,” she agreed. “I bet you were popular in school.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I’m purely judging a book by its cover. You were a jock. You played football. All the girls loved you because you are so perfectly gorgeous.” She swept her eyes over him again, enjoying how he looked more and more by the second. “You can hold a conversation, so I’m guessing you weren’t just an athlete but participated in something like student council. You were prom and/or homecoming king. How much of that did I get right?”

“All of it,” he said with a grin. “But you missed something.”

“What?”

“I sang in the choir.”

“That is surprising. Did you join to impress girls?”

“I liked to sing.” He shrugged. “You never told me who you were meeting.”

“A childhood...friend?”

“You don’t sound too sure about that.”

“I’m not sure I like her. I don’t think she likes me, either. She always makes little digs at me. ‘I’m seeing the most incredible man. I guess you haven’t found anyone yet. I’ve been promoted at work again. Are you still doing research in that dark little lab of yours? Don’t worry, you’ll change careers when you get up the courage.’ It makes me want to spill something on one of those thousand-dollar handbags she carries around.”

“If you don’t like her, then why do you see her?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “It’s completely irrational, isn’t it? But we grew up together. We attended the same private school. We took violin lessons together. We even have horses stabled at the same barn.”

“Horses?”

“Yeah. My guy is old and overweight and his name is Seymour, and hers is this exquisite Arabian who wins prizes for his beauty.”

“What’s his name?”

“Adonis.”

He shook his head. “Sounds pretentious.”

“It is and he is! He’s a mean horse. I bet he makes little catty remarks about the other horses behind their backs. My boy is sweet as pie. Beauty and speed aren’t everything in a racehorse.” She looked up at Elias, realizing that she was having a longer conversation with him than she’d had with any man that wasn’t about science for the first time in years. And he actually seemed interested in what she had to say. Most of her conversations with the opposite sex were purely intellectual, about topics that most people without PhDs couldn’t follow. And at times, they bored the heck out of her. Sometimes those men even asked her out, and rationally those men should have been stimulating to talk to. But this handsome stranger with a broken hand made her feel more comfortable than anyone else ever had. “Why are you letting me ramble on like this?”

“I don’t know. We’re the only two people in this bar. It seemed like we should meet.”

* * *

Elias was being truthful when he told Cricket he didn’t know why he was having this conversation with her. He had been feeling restless since he had been banned from the hospital. Staying in Miami, being around all the sights and smells, knowing that people were being gravely injured every minute, all over the city, and he could do nothing about it, was making him nearly jump from his skin. So he had escaped to Hideaway Island, home of his brother and twin sister. They had been supportive when he told them that he was going to be out of work for some time as he healed, both offering their homes for him to recuperate in, but he couldn’t be around them, either.

They were both married. Carlos had a daughter. His twin was still a newlywed and so ridiculously in love with her husband it sometimes made Elias’s stomach churn. They were all happy and settled, and Elias felt very out of place with them.

He was the only one of his siblings who was single. He didn’t want to get married. In fact, he planned to remain single for years, but when he was with Carlos, he felt...unsettled. Like he was missing out on something. So he had escaped his sister’s house and come to the nearby restaurant for a change of scenery.

He had immediately noticed Cricket when she walked into the bar. She was much different from the women he encountered in Miami who lived in slinky dresses with lots of exposed skin. They were overtly sexy.

Cricket was sexy, too. Oddly sexy, in a way that discomfited him. She was not his type at all, but when she walked into the bar that night, his senses went on high alert. He took in everything about her. She wore a short pretty sundress with a bold graphic floral print. Her legs were by no means long, but they were beautiful and thick—the kind of leg that a man liked to slide his hand up and down in bed. Her hair was in loose, almost fluffy curls. It wasn’t a modern style. Hell, it wasn’t classic or chic or anything, but it suited her. She looked perfectly sweet, with wide innocent eyes and beautiful full lips.

And he had been sitting with her for the past ten minutes, unable to pull himself away.

“Is there any particular reason you are meeting this woman you don’t like here tonight?”

Cricket shrugged. “She asked to see me. It’s been a while. Said we need to do some catching up. She’s probably feeling a bit low about herself and would like to take a few jabs at me to boost her confidence.”

“Why do you let her do that to you?”

“She must not be very confident if she has to tear me down to pull herself up. In an odd way, it makes me feel better. If someone that physically perfect has doubts about themselves, then I realize that I’m not so different.”

“Everyone feels shitty about themselves sometimes.”

“And that applies to you, too?”

“Of course.” He nodded.

“Not about your looks. I wouldn’t believe someone who looks like you would.”

“Are you flirting with me?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “Am I? I never tried before. I didn’t think I knew how!”

He grinned at her again. He was doing that a lot tonight. He felt a little bit like an idiot, but it felt good. He needed any reason to feel good lately. Without the hospital he was feeling lost, empty. For the first time in his life he was idle, and he sure as hell didn’t like it. “If you weren’t flirting, what do you call it?”

“Being honest.” She took a long sip of her drink. “Maybe it’s this stuff that’s making me extra honest this evening.” They both heard the sound of heels clicking on the floor in the distance, and Elias knew that his conversation with this quirky woman was about to come to an end.

“I’ll leave you to enjoy your friend. It was nice speaking to you, Cricket.”

“I enjoyed speaking to you, too, Elias.”

He got up and walked back to his spot at the bar just as a woman rounded the corner. Cricket was right. Her friend was beautiful. She was tall, with caramel-colored skin and light eyes. Her body was toned, her hair long and ruthlessly straight, highlighted with different shades of blond. She was perfectly made-up and perfectly dressed. She was perfectly boring.

“Hey, Bug!” She smiled brightly. “It’s great to see you.”

“Hello, Giselle. How are you?”

“Great! Just great.” She hugged Cricket. “What a cute little dress you’re wearing. I could never pull it off, but you have never been afraid of wearing things you find in the thrift store.”

“I didn’t get this in a thrift store. I got this in a little boutique downtown. The one you’re always talking about.”

“Oh.” She took the seat across from Cricket. “Do they carry your size there? I didn’t think they carried anything over a size ten.”

“They do,” Cricket said, her nostrils flaring a bit.

“Good. You can carry the extra weight so much better than most people I know. I’m glad they have clothes for larger ladies.”

Elias felt his nostrils flaring a bit. He wanted Cricket to tell the woman to go to hell.

“Everyone deserves nice clothing,” Cricket responded cheerfully. “So what’s going on with you? I know there must be something if you wanted to see me.”

“I just wanted to catch up. You are one of my dearest friends.”

“Were you working late? That promotion you got must be keeping you busy. You were nearly a half hour behind schedule. But I know you must have been too busy to text me. Us career girls have to really put our noses to the grindstone to prove we’re just as good as the men, so I understand your tardiness.”

Elias wanted to applaud Cricket. She wasn’t a pushover. He liked that.

“I’m sorry about that. I was on a call.” She reached across the table and gave Cricket’s hand a light squeeze. “So, are you seeing anyone? I’m still with Arnold. It’s getting serious! But don’t worry, sweetie. You’ll find someone someday. Women can have children well into their late forties nowadays.”

That was it. Elias left his spot at the bar and walked back over to Cricket’s table. He didn’t spare a single look at her friend before he took Cricket’s chin between his fingers and kissed her full, pouty mouth. He wasn’t sure if that was the stupidest thing he had ever done or the best decision of his life, because he felt the immediate spark of sexual attraction in their kiss.

He lifted his head briefly, looked her in the eyes and kissed her again. This time she slid her hand up his jaw and kissed him back a little more deeply than he had kissed her.

“I’m sorry that took so long,” he said to her as he slipped into the chair next to her. “I got our dinner reservations moved back another half hour.”

“Dinner.” Cricket nodded, giving him a conspiratorial grin. “Can’t wait.”

“Um,” Giselle said. “Hello. I’m Giselle, and you are?”

“Elias.” He nodded his head but didn’t extend his hand to shake. “I’m Cricket’s boyfriend.”

“Isn’t he gorgeous?” Cricket laughed.

Giselle looked stunned. “Uh... I... I—I didn’t know you were seeing anyone.”

“Well, Elias walked up to me and introduced himself, and I’ve been taken with him ever since.”

“Oh, how sweet,” she said, looking and sounding disbelieving. “I’m happy for you.” Her eyes narrowed. “Tell me, Elias. What do you do for a living?”

“I’m a trauma surgeon.”

“Here on the island?”

“There are very few traumas here. I work at Miami Mercy. I’m on leave right now. I broke my wrist and haven’t been cleared to return yet.”

“My boyfriend is in pharmaceutical sales. He’s at your hospital a lot. Maybe you know him.”

“I don’t. I don’t ever speak to drug reps unless they are bleeding out on my table.”

“Where did you go to medical school?”

“Miller.”

“You got into one of the best hospitals in the country.” She nodded. “Did you meet Bug at a work function?”

“No. It was purely by chance, and I couldn’t seem to get her off my mind ever since.”

None of those things were lies. If it were any other day, he might not have been there. He might not have even given a second look to Cricket or cared that she was being disrespected by her rude friend. But it wasn’t any other night. Tonight he wanted something to take his mind off not being able to work, and he was glad that Cricket was that something.

“So, are you getting serious? Your mother will be pleased, I’m sure,” she said rather stiffly. “Who wouldn’t love another doctor in the family?”

Another doctor? She’d told him she wasn’t one, and he had believed her because he spent a lot of time around doctors and she seemed a little more free-spirited than most of them. But maybe he didn’t know as much as he thought he did.

“It doesn’t matter what my mother thinks. It only matters that I’m happy, and right this minute, I’m incredibly happy.”

Giselle frowned, almost like she didn’t understand what Cricket was saying. “I didn’t mean to keep you two from your date night.”

“You’re not!” Cricket said. “Elias wanted to meet you.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you.” He nodded as he took Cricket’s hand and raised it to his lips. “I want to know all of Cricket’s friends.”

“That’s nice.” She stood up. “I’m meeting Arnold tonight, so I have to run. It was good to meet you, Elias. Cricket, I’ll call you?”

“Yes. Catching up with you is always fun.”

She walked out then, and as soon as her heels clicked out of earshot, Cricket turned to him. “What on earth possessed you to do that?”

“I don’t like the way she speaks to you.”

“I can handle myself, you know.”

“I know.”

“You kissed me.” She tilted her head and studied him.

“I did, and then you kissed me.”

She had soft, plump lips. They were perfect for kissing. He could have just sat down beside her, held her hand and pretended like he was her boyfriend, but he’d kissed her. He had to kiss her. It seemed like the right thing to do in that moment. It might have been one of those impulsive moments that his boss was so fond of pointing out. There had been no thinking involved. His mouth just moved toward hers.

“Do you like tacos?” she asked.

He blinked at her for a moment, confused by the change in topic. “Yeah.”

“What about frozen custard?”

“The soft-serve kind?”

“Of course.”

“Yes.”

“Let me wine and dine you,” she said with a grin. “Or maybe I should say convenient food and converse with you.”

“You are so weird,” he said again, shaking his head. “I would love to have tacos and custard with you.”