Читать книгу Playboy Surgeon, Top-Notch Dad - Janice Lynn, Janice Lynn - Страница 6

HOW was cardiac nurse Blair Pendergrass supposed to avoid Oz Manning when he kept popping up in every aspect of her life?

Trying not to think of Madison Memorial’s hotshot new heart surgeon, she inserted a catheter into her patient Latham Duke’s vein. Attaching the intravenous equipment, she taped the tubing to secure the line to the banker’s arm.

“You’re really good at that.” Mr Duke relaxed his clenched fingers now that the IV line was in place. “The last nurse who stuck me about killed me.”

Blair smiled. She enjoyed what she did and took great pride in causing as little pain as possible to her patients.

“Let’s hope Dr Manning doesn’t finish the job that other nurse started.” Wrinkles furrowed his pale forehead at the thought of his arteriogram.

Since Oz’s arrival, every female in LA—Lower Alabama, that was—had gone gaga over him.

Except Blair. She consciously avoided the six-foot-two heart surgeon who reputedly broke as many hearts as he healed.

She’d written Oz off as a hopeless playboy years ago when he’d visited his mentor Dr Ted Talbot. Sure, he could charm the habit off a nun with one crook of his little finger, but Blair had learned her lesson with regard to full-of-themselves men.

Been there, done that, had the scars to prove it.

Still, for what Oz was doing for Dr Talbot, she’d tolerate his insufferable womanizing ways.

Her heart squeezed. For nearly half a year Dr Talbot had been battling the metastatic cancer that had started in his colon and aggressively spread to his pancreas, liver and hip.

“I know an arteriogram is a common procedure, but frankly having something rammed through my groin and up into my heart terrifies me,” Mr Duke continued on a breathy note. “Especially by a new doctor.”

Blair patted his hand. “Although he’s new to Madison Memorial, Dr Manning isn’t a new doctor. He previously worked at one of the country’s leading cardiology clinics.”

“So I hear.”

“Then you heard right.” Blair administered the medication that wouldn’t completely put Mr Duke to sleep, but would make him less aware of what was happening. “With Dr Talbot on medical leave—” oh, how her heart broke at his rapidly declining health “—Dr Manning is the most highly skilled surgeon on staff. There’s no one I’d trust more with my heart,” she assured him honestly. Oz’s professional résumé was impressive.

“Isn’t that sweet,” a cocky male voice praised from a few feet away. “I never knew that’s how you felt.”

She silently cursed Oz’s timing.

Meeting his blue gaze, she took in his pleased grin. Dimples dug into his cheeks, adding a boy-next-door charm to his good looks. Blair rolled her eyes. He’d be much easier to deal with if he was cross-eyed, bald, paunchy and dim-witted.

None of those things, Oz’s grin widened.

Heat infused her bloodstream as surely as it would Mr Duke’s when Oz pushed the dye. Blair had great empathy with the hot, flushing sensation described as the number-one side effect of the dye used to illuminate the vessels.

“Good morning, Latham.” Oz’s gaze skimmed over the monitors hooked to his patient, who was already visibly relaxing from the medication. “Is Blair treating you well?”

“The best.” The man nodded toward his IV. “As gentle as she put this thing in, she’s officially my all-time favorite nurse.”

“I hear that a lot.” Oz flashed a teasing look her way. “Blair being a favorite, especially from men.”

Puh-leeze.

Her short, dark hair and plain green eyes made her average in looks. Childbirth had left her hips too wide, her breasts too big, and her body perpetually ten pounds heavier than she wanted it to be.

She hadn’t been any man’s favorite in a long time.

If ever.

“Beautiful and good at her job, too,” Mr Duke mused. “She’s a keeper.”

“Definitely.” Oz raked his gaze over her. When their eyes met something dark flashed in the blue depths.

Blair stepped back, shaken by the intensity of his stare. He loved to tease her, seemed to live to do so, which was why she avoided him as much as possible. But for that brief moment he’d looked serious. Almost dangerous.

“Good thing I’m a catch-and-release kind of guy or I’d be in trouble.”

Relieved at his normal cocky tone, she let out the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

Without another glance her way, Oz turned back to the equipment. He warned his patient about the ensuing hot flush and possibly the sensation that he’d need to urinate. When finished, he double-checked Mr Duke’s identification bracelet. Satisfied he had the right patient and wasn’t missing any allergies, Oz administered the dye.

“Nice.” He watched the image on the screen and closely observed his patient’s reaction to the medication.

“Is she single?”

Blair blinked. Had Mr Duke really just asked that?

“Yeah—” a tiny tic twitched at Oz’s jaw “—but I thought you were married?”

“My son just moved back to Madison. He graduated from business school in December. Yale,” the man added proudly. “A real bright boy. Handsome, like his father.” He chuckled. “I’d love for him to meet a nice local girl—” he gave Blair a meaningful look, his gaze going to her gloved left hand “—and settle down and get married.”

Settle down? Marriage? Ick. Blair almost broke out in hives at the thought. She didn’t have time to date, much less get married. She didn’t even want to. Her life was full with her five-year-old daughter, Addy, her younger sister, Reesee, and Dr Talbot. There wasn’t room for catering to a man’s ego and she didn’t want to make room. She liked her life as it was—with the exception of Dr Talbot’s illness and Oz’s annoying presence.

“You should tell your son about the fund-raiser we’re doing to help with Dr Talbot’s medical expenses,” she suggested, tired of being talked about as if she weren’t there. “We’re hosting a silent auction for donated items, but the main attraction is a bachelor/bachelorette auction.”

“That dye wasn’t as bad as I feared,” Mr Duke admitted. “Bachelor/bachelorette auction?”

“Actually, I should talk to your son about volunteering to be auctioned. A handsome businessman would raise a lot for a good cause.”

“You’re still short on bachelors?” A frown creased Oz’s forehead, but he didn’t glance away from his patient. “Even after I contacted Will Majors about volunteering? Stephanie told me he called.”

Although Oz had offered to help in any way he could, surprisingly, he had refused to be auctioned. Not when Blair asked, nor when her co-coordinator Stephanie had asked. Blair still couldn’t believe Oz hadn’t wanted to be auctioned. She’d have thought women fighting over him publicly would be right up his alley.

“We still need two more bachelors to even the numbers out.”

“Two bachelors,” he mused.

Oz might be talking with her, but his real focus was on what he was doing. He guided the instrument into the patient’s femoral artery and up into the heart.

Even during routine procedures, Blair breathed a little shallowly until her patient was resting comfortably post-procedure. She’d never developed the tough skin needed to see the person lying there as just another patient.

Perhaps because her mother had died during a hysterectomy for uterine fibroids when Blair had only been nineteen.

“Ah, problem number one is right there,” Oz murmured, causing Blair’s and Mr Duke’s heavy-lidded gaze to shift to the computerized screen. “There’s a tiny blockage of the right bundle branch. Nothing a stent won’t fix.”

Mr Duke had closed his eyes, probably in sleep. Blair kept a vigilant eye on the man’s vitals. Oz positioned the device to where the artery was significantly narrowed, impeding blood flow and cutting off oxygen to Mr Duke’s heart tissue. With single-minded purpose Oz opened the blockage.

The blood flow immediately resumed through the artery.

Oz had a magic touch when it came to healing hearts.

Blair had learned so much from working with Dr Talbot, but she’d told Mr Duke the truth. There wasn’t a cardiologist she’d trust more than Oz Manning. He was that good, that talented.

Which seemed at odds with the man who was always teasing, always flirting, always out with one woman after another. Only this visit, with caring for Dr Talbot his primary focus, Oz had curtailed his revolving-door dating.

Before finishing Mr Duke’s arteriogram, Oz placed two more stents in diseased arteries. While he worked he explained what he was doing to his patient. He made conversation with the heavy-lidded man as if they were watching a football game on television rather than Oz’s life-saving measures inside the man’s heart.

Although a big teddy bear outside of work, Dr Talbot was a grizzly during procedures. Blair had grown accustomed to his intensity, to his drill sergeant ways in the cardiac cath lab. Oz’s easygoing attitude disoriented her to say the least.

The man disoriented her, period.

Even now, she could smell his musky scent, was keenly aware of his broad shoulders, thick chest and narrow hips. Not to mention that her fingers perpetually itched to trace over the cleft in his strong chin.

Okay, so Oz was attractive. Big deal. She wasn’t blind. No matter how attractive he was, she’d never allow a man like him to get close. Never again. Some lessons were learned the hard way and left lasting impressions an entire lifetime wouldn’t erase.

Blair swallowed, forcing her mind back to her patient and not his sexy surgeon.

“Unfortunately, I can’t repair your mitral valve through the catheter,” Oz said, although he’d explain again when his patient was free of the twilight medication. “The damage to the valve is too extensive to seal the leak as we’d hoped.”

Although having taken leave from his clinical position in Minnesota, Oz continued researching a valve repair device that didn’t require opening the patient’s chest. He opted to use the innovative procedure at Madison when patients met the study criteria.

When Oz decreased the anesthetic medication and removed the catheter from the man’s femoral artery, Blair placed a weighted device on her patient’s groin, keeping pressure on the bleed.

Mr Duke’s face had grown pale, but not from blood loss. “Does this mean I have to have open-heart surgery?”

“There isn’t a way around it.” Oz sat straighter on the wheeled stool. “If you’re agreeable, we’ll get you on the schedule for tomorrow. Regardless, I recommend doing the surgery within the next few weeks.”

The medicine starting to wear off, Mr Duke shook his head. “I can’t have surgery that soon. I didn’t come prepared to stay. I’ll be out of commission for weeks. There are things at home, at the bank, that need doing before I’m incapacitated that long.”

“Who’s going to do those things when you die from heart disease? Who’s going to take care of your family?”

Blair couldn’t drag her gaze away from Oz. His lips had thinned. The cleft in his chin seemed deeper, craggier. But his eyes were what held her mesmerized.

In that moment, she glimpsed an unguarded vulnerability she hadn’t known he possessed. Somewhere along the line he’d known heartache.

Blair didn’t like the quiver of empathy that look elicited within her. Not one bit.

She busied herself checking things she’d already checked.

“Will that happen if I choose not to have surgery?” Mr Duke swallowed hard. “Won’t the stents you put in today be enough to keep me going? I wasn’t feeling that bad to begin with, just got out of breath easily.”

“Maybe nothing will happen if you don’t have the surgery.” His expression having returned to normal, Oz shrugged. “But odds are you’ll go into heart failure or develop another serious heart condition such as atrial fibrillation. The stents have opened up the blocked arteries, but won’t correct your leaky valve.”

Mr Duke grimaced. “What does this valve do? What does it matter if a little blood leaks?”

“The mitral valve is the valve between your heart’s left atrium and left ventricle. When the valve doesn’t seal properly, some of the blood that is supposed to be pumped from the ventricle into your aorta washes back into the atrium. That means less blood goes into the aorta. To compensate for the decreased blood available to the body, the left ventricle enlarges so it can work harder to pump more blood.”

Mr Duke digested Oz’s explanation, taking a moment before he responded. “You told me last week when you did the ultrasound that my heart was enlarged. Is this valve why?”

“The heart is a muscle. If it’s working harder, it’s going to get bigger, just as your bicep enlarges when you work out.”

“If I don’t do the surgery, my heart will keep getting worse?”

“Absolutely,” Oz said without hesitation. “The longer you wait, the more damaged the valve is going to be, the more extensive the surgery will be. Currently, I can surgically repair the valve, which means you keep your own valve. If we wait, the valve will be so damaged you’ll have to have a mechanical replacement.”

“A mechanical valve?” The man’s brows drew together. “Why mechanical?”

“Because a tissue valve replacement would wear out. You’d be back in surgery in ten to fifteen years. With a mechanical, you’ll have to take a blood thinner, but the valve would last your lifetime. Still, the best option is to fix your own valve before you reach that point.”

“I need some time.” Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath, the man sighed. “I don’t have to decide this moment?”

“No.” Oz shook his head. “I’ll be by to see you later this morning. Right now, you do everything your lovely nurse tells you to do and you’ll be fine.”

Blair ignored his silver-tongued compliment.

“Thank you, Dr Manning. I’ll think about what you’ve said and discuss it with my family.” Mr Duke held out his hand toward Oz.

“Blair will provide you with some literature and a video on mitral valve repair.” Removing his rubber gloves, Oz shook Mr Duke’s hand. “If you or your family have any additional questions or want more information, feel free to ask. Blair’s part of my cardiac team and knows about as much as I do about the repair procedure.”

She doubted that.

Still a little hazy, Mr Duke nodded.

“Be sure to tell your son about the fund-raiser.” Oz sent a knowing look toward Blair. “If he’s lucky, Blair will bid on him.”

Blair gave Oz a cool glare as she continued preparing her patient for transport to the recovery room. No wonder she didn’t like him. He was a total flirt, prone to insincere flattery, a womanizer, and an incessant tease.

“Pay him no attention,” she advised her patient. “I think he’s sniffed anesthesia one time too many.”

Oz laughed, deep and throaty, and Blair was suddenly overtaken by an acute attack of loneliness. Loneliness at just how long it had been since she’d spent any real time with a man, just laughing and enjoying together time.

What was she thinking?

She didn’t need or want someone like Oz making her question her life. He made her uncomfortable, made her heart pound as if she’d run a marathon in record time, made her lungs feel as if they couldn’t get enough air.

All of which just made her like him that much less.

After she had Mr Duke resting in Recovery, she headed back to the cardiac nurses’ station.

The devil leaned against the counter, looking sexy as sin and flirting with two nurses. No surprise there.

Kanesha Biles was happily married, but the nursing director was far from immune to Dr Oz. Her dark eyes glittering with delight, she slapped at Oz’s arm and giggled at whatever he’d said. Becky stared at him in pure, unadulterated adoration, as if she were ready to sell her soul for a night of his attention.

“Oz Manning, you are bad,” Kanesha scolded, shaking her head with an indulgent look on her face.

“You know what they say about bad boys, don’t you?” Oz asked, his attention shifting to Blair.

She picked up a hospital memo, careful not to look into eyes so blue they’d been known to stupefy even the most staid of feminine souls. Eyes so blue they reminded her of another man who’d once hurt her by his careless use of the charms he wielded like a sword slaying a woman’s defenses. Her defenses.

Just like Chris, Oz knew the effect he had on the opposite sex. He thrived on female attention.

“What do they say, Dr Manning?” Becky urged when Oz let his words hang tantalizingly in the air. “Tell us, please.”

Unable to stop herself, Blair glanced toward Oz. He stared straight at her as if he could look into her soul and know every thought, every desire she’d ever had.

“Deep down, bad boys are really, really good.”

His silky voice dripped with sin.

With suggestion.

With pure seduction. As if he was speaking directly to Blair and no one else in the world existed.

With…oh, Lord, Blair’s lungs threatened to burst. Her knees buckled. She grabbed hold of the nurses’ station desk to steady herself.

She didn’t like him. She knew he was a playboy who broke women’s hearts.

No matter how he wielded power over all things female, Oz was too much like Addy’s father for Blair to ever lower the shield protecting her heart.

Still, thank God she wasn’t hooked to one of the monitoring devices.

Protective shield or not, all sorts of alarms would be blaring at the traitorous pounding against her rib cage.