Читать книгу His Baby Bombshell - Jessica Matthews, Jessica Matthews - Страница 7

SABRINA HOLLISTER knew she’d eventually see Dr Adrian McReynolds again, but she’d never dreamed that moment would come unexpectedly at a golf course or that she’d knock him senseless in the process.

After a year of leaving her equipment in the back of her single-car garage to collect dust, her friend and fellow nurse Kate Ostmeyer had convinced her to brush off the cobwebs and participate in the First Annual Pinehaven Health Center Benefit Golf Tournament.

Although her first- and second-hole scores weren’t anything to brag about, she’d parred the next few before shooting an unbelievable eagle on seven. Not bad for a woman who hadn’t swung a club since early last season.

Between the excitement of continuing her game from where she’d left off and the thrill of being outdoors, instead of stuck inside on this beautiful summer day, life couldn’t have been better.

Until the eighth hole.

Sabrina took her first tee-off practice swing seconds before Kate completely shattered her concentration.

“Mercy Memorial is loaning us one of their ER docs,” Kate announced, clearly proud of her news scoop.

Sabrina froze and she felt her palms break out into a sweat inside her gloves. Steady, she cautioned herself. Don’t jump to conclusions.

Determined to only sound mildly interested instead of frantic, she asked, “Really? They’ve never loaned us one before.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” the OB nurse remarked cheerfully. “And why shouldn’t Mercy send us a doctor? They’re part of our consortium and the corporate folks decided that every hospital in the group would take their turn helping cover our ED until we hired a permanent physician. It’s Mercy’s turn.”

Mercy’s turn or not, Sabrina scolded herself for leaping to conclusions. The man she’d known at her former place of employment surely wouldn’t be the one who would come to her new stomping ground. However, her reassurance didn’t stop her from mentally crossing her fingers as she struggled to inject the right note of idle curiosity into her voice. “When is this happening? Not for a few weeks, I hope.”

“Oh, he’s already here. Started today. In fact, he’s playing in this tournament. Apparently our chief of staff wants to make a good impression so he insisted on including him as a member of his foursome.”

Sabrina didn’t care what Dr Mosby wanted. She did, however, care about working with whomever Mercy had sent. As a member of the nursing float pool, Sabrina was temporarily assigned to the emergency department until one of the regularly assigned nurses returned from maternity leave. Which meant she’d be sharing space with the new guy for the next three weeks.

Don’t let it be Adrian.

Sabrina gritted her teeth and asked the obvious. “Do you know who he is?”

“I forget his name,” Kate admitted sheepishly. “But, hey, you worked there before you joined us, so I’m sure if you mention a few, I’ll recognize his.”

“I’ve been gone for ages,” Sabrina pointed out. “Turnover was high. The ED folks I knew probably aren’t there any more.”

She wasn’t telling a lie. Mercy always had new ER docs coming and going, although it boasted a core group who’d remained the same over the years. If hospital administration had been asked to supply a physician, most likely the ED director would assign one of the newbies. Those with seniority wouldn’t be sent to another facility without good reason or unless they’d volunteered. She couldn’t imagine Adrian offering to leave his house and his job when his gesture meant he’d be an hour and a half away from his family.

Family. She was both envious that he had a family to call his own and bitter that he’d refused to share it with her. But both of those emotions were counter-productive, so she stuffed them back into the mental box where she stored “subjects not to think about”.

Kate tapped a forefinger on her chin in obvious thought. “All I remember is that it started with an ‘M’.”

Sabrina ran through the few names she recalled, eliminating one in particular. “Monighan, Miller, Magee…”

“Close, but not quite. Mac something, I think.”

Her chest tightened as only one person fit Kate’s criteria. “McReynolds?”

Kate snapped her fingers. “That’s right. Dr McReynolds.”

Sabrina’s entire world suddenly changed from living color to shades of gray. Blood rushed through her ears, drowning out all sound, and her heart seemed to thump through her chest.

Adrian was coming. No, he was already here.

Heaven help her!

She’d wanted to put off meeting him in this lifetime until she was mentally and emotionally prepared to face him again—preferably in about fifteen or twenty years. Clearly, she’d have minutes or at most twenty-four hours, which wasn’t nearly long enough for her to develop any sort of game plan.

She’d dated Adrian for about six months and by the end of that time their relationship had subtly shifted to the point where they’d discussed theoretical topics such as how many children they’d like to have, the sort of house they’d want to live in, which area of Denver had the best elementary schools. They’d been on the verge of a commitment, she believed, when everything changed in an instant.

While riding his motorcycle, Adrian’s twenty-four-year-old brother Clay had been sideswiped by a minivan on Interstate 70. He’d come into the ER more broken than whole, with his prognosis of being a paraplegic if his broken vertebrae had damaged his spinal column. Only time would tell.

Determined to help the man she loved to bear the burden of caring for Clay, she’d been crushed when Adrian had broken off their relationship because “he had to focus completely on his brother”. Although she’d tried to convince him that she wasn’t asking him to put her ahead of his brother’s needs, each passing day and failed attempt to see him had caused her hopes and dreams to slowly die. Finally, she’d surrendered to the inevitable and gave up trying to talk to him. Determined to avoid reminders of the man she’d grown to love and the places where they’d spent happy hours, she’d resigned her position at Mercy Memorial and headed for the growing northeastern suburb of Pinehaven, where she’d moved on with her life, just as Adrian had wanted.

Now he had the audacity to appear and upset her hardwon composure. Yet she couldn’t deny the hope that suddenly blossomed in her chest. Could he have volunteered because she was here and he wanted to see her? After all, as an ED physician with seniority, he normally wouldn’t have been chosen for an assignment like this.

But as the possibility raised her spirits, she warned herself to be cautious. Better for her to keep her imagination under control and not jump to conclusions. Extremely high hopes had a tendency to fall hard and land more painfully.

When she really thought about his arrival logically, it didn’t make sense for Adrian to tie himself to a job for three months just to see her again when he could have found her quite easily by other means. She may not have specifically given him her new address, but she hadn’t moved to Pinehaven in secret—any number of her ex-coworkers knew her destination. If he’d wanted to talk to her, he would have telephoned, emailed, or appeared on her front porch before now, especially if one considered how Pinehaven Health Center wasn’t far from Mercy—a mere ninety minutes’ drive if traffic was heavy, less if it wasn’t. No, if Adrian had truly and temporarily relocated here, he’d only come under duress.

The realization hardened her heart.

“Do you know him?” Kate asked, curiosity coloring her face.

Did she know Adrian McReynolds? What a question!

She knew details. He liked his coffee black, his food spicy, his work and living spaces clean and neat. He wore boxer shorts to bed, had silky smooth hair on his chest, developed five o’clock shadow twice a day, had the faintest scar near his left temple’s hairline and a birthmark on his right hip, and was a fantastic lover. He was charming, had a wonderful sense of humor, was devoted to his younger siblings, and locked away his deepest feelings behind a wall of stoicism that only a few could breach.

On the job, he was a perfectionist and demanded the best for his patients. He was completely immovable once he’d made a decision. At one time, she’d admired the trait because it showed tenacity, persistence and strength of character. Now she only saw it as a flaw of closed-mindedness.

Did she know Adrian McReynolds? Apparently not as well as she should have or as well as she’d once thought.

She hesitated before answering. Until she considered the ramifications of what his presence would do to her life, she refused to admit anything but the barest of details. She didn’t want people to know they’d once been quite close or that he’d ended the relationship because he didn’t want to make room in his life for her, so she stretched the truth almost to the breaking point.

“I’ve run into him a few times,” she said instead.

“Then I’m sure he’ll appreciate seeing a familiar face now that he’s here for the next few months. And speaking of faces, the stranger over there with Dr Mosby’s team must be our fellow.”

Sabrina lowered her club to study the group approaching the thirteenth green about fifty yards to her right. Instinctively, her gaze homed on the tall individual she hadn’t seen in thirteen months, one week and two days.

Even from this distance, she recognized his confident bearing, his long-legged walk, and his lucky black-and-purple Colorado Rockies baseball cap.

It was Adrian. The man she’d never expected to see until she’d plotted out every second of their next encounter, until she could think of him as a casual acquaintance rather than a lover, until she could face him with the cool indifference he deserved.

As aloof as she wanted to be, as often as she’d told herself she’d relegated him into her past and moved on with her life, seeing him with hardly any advance warning brought all of those painful emotions to the surface.

Her chest hurt as she realized his presence affected more than her own heart. His untimely arrival complicated everything she’d built for herself during the past year. She’d prided herself on her ability to work with anyone and everyone, but working with Adrian on a daily basis for several weeks was a punishment she didn’t deserve.

If disrupting her professional life wasn’t enough, he’d turn her personal life into a shambles, too. Pinehaven might be a suburb of Denver, but the people in this community were a close-knit group. Secrets were impossible to keep. All he had to do was ask the right question, and well-meaning people would share her meticulously vague story.

The same story to which only he could piece together all the bitter details.

Thank goodness his name had never crossed her lips. No one would associate him with the fellow who’d dumped her, not even Kate, her best friend and the OB nurse who’d coached her through her labor.

Tears of frustration blurred her vision and she rapidly blinked them away, hating the inevitability of Adrian turning her world into chaos after she’d finally, and with extreme effort, whipped it in order.

Instantly, her lungs seemed to deflate and she ran through the full gamut of emotions before finally settling on panic.

“Are we going to play or stand here all day?” Molly Blake, a third member of their Rusty Clubs foursome, whined as she swiped her forehead. “You guys might prefer to swelter under the sun, but I’d rather hang out in the air-conditioned clubhouse.”

Sabrina’s flight-or-fight response kicked into high gear. The only thought running through her mind was to escape before Adrian saw her. Contrary to what Kate might believe about familiar faces, Sabrina needed to postpone their imminent reunion so she could mentally prepare herself.

Numb, Sabrina stepped up to her ball and swung blindly. As soon as her driver made contact, she knew without even looking that she’d sliced the ball.

Time slowed as she watched it head in Adrian’s direction like a computer-guided missile searching for its target. Oh, surely fate wouldn’t be that cruel!

“Fore,” she yelled just before the projectile struck her nemesis on the side of his head.

He dropped like a rock and lay motionless on the manicured grass.

Horrified, Sabrina’s club slipped from her hand as her heart pounded. Dear God, she’d killed him!

She’d killed the father of her son.

“What the—?” Adrian squinted up at the blue sky, seeing stars when none had been a few moments ago. His head throbbed in time to his heartbeat and something warm trickled down his ear and neck.

“Just lie still for a few minutes, son.” A worried face hovered over his, blocking the sun from his eyes. “Give yourself a chance to recover.”

The world spun at all sorts of crazy angles, so he gratefully complied. “What happened?”

“Golf ball.” Mosby pressed a semi-clean golf towel to a spot above Adrian’s left ear. “How’s the head?”

He took stock. “Sore.”

“Any dizziness, nausea?”

“Some,” he admitted, hoping the power of positive thinking would slow down the spinning and churning of his internal amusement park ride from Tilt-A-Whirl to a sedate carousel.

Mosby peered into his eyes. “Pupils are equal and reactive, so you can rest easy on that account.”

“I’m OK. Just give me…a minute.”

“Take all the time you need,” Mosby advised, placing a hand on his shoulder. “An ambulance is on its way.”

“Not necessary,” he croaked, hating to appear weak, especially on his first official day in town. “I’m supposed to work in ER, not check in as a patient.”

“It’s very necessary,” Mosby assured him. “We take care of our own, and as of eight o’clock this morning, you’re one of us.”

Adrian folded one arm over his eyes, too befuddled to argue and quite content to lie on the grass until his wits returned. He heard voices and tried to focus on them through the pounding in his head, but none seemed to make any sense until he heard one so familiar it haunted him in his dreams.

“How is he? Is he OK? He’s breathing, isn’t he?”

Sabrina.

He’d known he’d see her again—the hospital wasn’t large enough to avoid it—but he wondered if her breathless concern would fade as soon as she realized that he was the one lying on the ground with a goose egg on the side of his head.

He lowered his arm and opened his eyes to see her face above his. Through his slightly blurry vision, he recognized her retroussé nose, high cheekbones, kissable mouth and eyes as black as midnight. “Yeah, I’m breathing and talking,” he answered for himself. “In a few minutes I’ll be walking, too.”

“That was one helluva slice,” Mosby commented. “I wonder who hit it?”

Even with his head feeling as if his brains had been run through a blender, Adrian was alert enough to watch color wash over Sabrina’s face. “I did,” she admitted.

Of all the people in this tournament, Sabrina had knocked him senseless? He wanted to laugh at the irony but his skull hurt too much. The best he could do was smile, and that turned out to be more grimace than grin.

As he covered his eyes with his arm once again to wait for the paramedics, one thought ran through his mind as clearly as a church bell on a calm summer day.

Paybacks were hell.

After seeing Adrian awake and alert, Sabrina felt marginally better, until she saw his ashen face and the blood trickling past his ear and down his corded neck to stain his shirt collar. In spite of everything that had gone wrong between them, in spite of past hurts, she’d never dreamed of physically harming him. Not that he didn’t deserve it, of course…

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “It was an accident. Honest.”

“Of course it was,” Mosby declared. “No one deliberately slices the ball.”

“That’s right,” she concurred, hoping Adrian wouldn’t accuse her of evil intent, at least not in front of this crowd of witnesses. “If it’s any consolation, I’ve never hit anyone before.”

“Or you haven’t been told,” Adrian remarked dryly. “That would have been quite a drive if it had gone straight.”

“Probably,” she agreed.

An ambulance siren wailed in the distance and he visibly winced, then sighed. “For me, I suppose.”

“Afraid so,” Mosby said.

“What if I don’t want it?”

Sabrina ignored his petulant tone. He’d hated receiving attention and today’s incident would forever mark him in the hospital staff’s collective minds. As a man who preferred to remain out of the limelight, he’d never forgive her for the notoriety.

Then again, he had worse things to hold against her than being the subject of well-meant gossip. Never telling him about their son topped this incident by a country mile. Oh, he’d no doubt be furious, but she’d endured too much during and after her pregnancy with no one but herself to rely upon to be afraid of his reaction. She’d had her reasons and as far as she was concerned they had been the right ones, but her bravado didn’t stop her from checking his hand for a wedding ring.

No ring. Not even a pale tan line marked his third finger.

How curious, especially after what she’d seen…

“Sorry, young man, but when you go back to Mercy, you’ll go none the worse for wear,” Mosby replied. “If everything checks out, you can report for work in the morning.”

Either Adrian recognized the finality in Dr Mosby’s voice or he’d realized that an ambulance ride wasn’t such a bad idea because he didn’t argue.

“Sabrina?” Mosby turned his attention to her. “Follow Adrian to the hospital and make sure he’s given VIP treatment. Nothing’s too good for our newest physician.”

Oh, sweet baby Jane. “Me?” she protested, before she realized that refusing would only foster unwanted speculation.

Mosby studied her. “Why not you?”

Why not her, indeed? She could give him a specific reason—Adrian had told her that he didn’t want her in his life—but mentioning their volatile past wasn’t appropriate under the circumstances. Fortunately, the perfect excuse popped into her head.

“I’m not sure he’d appreciate me doing the honors when I’m the one responsible for his condition.” She glanced helplessly at Adrian, hoping, expecting him to refuse her company.

“Nonsense,” Mosby declared. “Dr McReynolds is a professional as well as a golfer. Accidents happen. He won’t hold this against you.”

She wasn’t as certain, but she bit back a reply because anything she could have said would have raised questions she didn’t want to answer.

“I suspect you won’t play worth a hoot after this anyway, so your team will probably thank me.” The chief of staff added with a twinkle in his eye, “It may also be safer for the masses if you aren’t swinging a club.”

Great. She’d never live this incident down, either. For a woman who’d won regional tournaments in both high school and college, she’d rather be known for a brilliant achievement instead of a hapless slice that had knocked out a fellow golfer and sent him to hospital.

Mosby laid a hand on Adrian’s shoulder. “Never fear. We won’t abandon you. Will we, Sabrina?” he asked with a pointed glance in her direction.

She glanced at Adrian, wondering why he consented to Mosby’s plans. While he truly wasn’t in a position to refuse any more than she could, she wondered if he was simply too confused to realize what was happening. Accident or not, she felt guilty for causing his injury.

“I’ll get my things,” she said reluctantly, hoping she wouldn’t be forced to contact his sisters with bad news. Conditions such as skull fractures, subdural hematomas and nerve damage were serious possibilities. Although it was a shame he hadn’t shown initial signs of amnesia. It would solve a lot of her problems, she thought wryly.

“Good. I’ll check in with you as soon as we’ve finished our round. We’ll have test results by then.”

“Paramedics are here,” someone said, and the small crowd parted.

Sabrina stood off to one side, watching the emergency personnel apply a cervical collar and prepare Adrian for transport. The grim set to his mouth and his one-word replies suggested his head hurt worse than he cared to admit. Surprisingly enough, his vulnerability tugged at her heartstrings.

You’d feel the same for any injured person, she told herself, refusing to believe she held any tender feelings for him at all. After the way he’d treated her, thrown her love away like yesterday’s garbage, how pitiful would she be if she did? In another lifetime, she would have been more than happy to escort him to the hospital and act as his hospital liaison, but too much had happened since those blissful days. Far better for her peace of mind if she treated him warily or, at best, as a familiar stranger until she discovered why he’d taken this temporary position at Pinehaven Health Center.

An uneasy thought came to her. Did he know about Jeremy?

No, she decided. She hadn’t mentioned her pregnancy to anyone before she’d left Denver. Since then she hadn’t run into any of her old friends and her new ones had never heard Adrian McReynolds’ name until today. For the moment, her secret was safe, although she’d have to deal with it sooner than she’d anticipated.

She caught a ride back to the parking lot in a tournament official’s golf cart, loaded her clubs, then followed the ambulance to the hospital.

By the time the paramedics had unloaded Adrian and installed him in a trauma room, he sported an IV in his hand, a pulse oximeter on his finger, and a long-suffering expression on his handsome face.

The old Sabrina would have teased out a smile because she hated to see him ill at ease, but the new Sabrina refused to let herself feel anything but objective concern. As far as she and the rest of the world were concerned, he was just another patient, even if he could legally use the initials “MD” behind his name.

“Would you like me to call anyone for you?” she asked politely after the ER doctor had examined him and they were waiting for the lab and radiology staff to arrive. “Your wife? Girlfriend? Or a family member?”

“No.” His blue-gray gaze met hers. “Don’t call a single soul.”

“I’m sure someone would want to know what’s happened.”

“There isn’t anything to tell to anyone,” he said shortly. “This is a minor injury and not worth the trouble it would cause.”

So much for finding out if he’d ever replaced her…“Suit yourself, but if you should change your mind, let me know.”

“I won’t.”

“As stubborn as ever, I see,” she remarked, already breaking her first rule to treat him as a stranger she’d met a few minutes earlier.

“I just want to play the hospital’s game so I can go back to my apartment where I can recuperate on my own.”

Knowing Mosby as she did, Adrian wouldn’t be heading back to his apartment as quickly as he thought, but someone else could break the news. On the other hand, Adrian hated not being in control, so if she planted the idea, maybe he’d resign himself to his fate before he got official word from The Man himself. Why she wanted to prepare him for the eventuality, she didn’t know, other than dealing with his surliness ranked at the bottom of her list of things she wanted to do.

There was a silver lining, though. She hadn’t wanted to be Adrian’s guardian angel in the first place, so if he gave her the slightest bit of trouble, she’d shovel it right back, in spades.

In fact, now that she thought about the situation, he wouldn’t have to complain too much for her to do so.

“Dr Mosby may decide to keep you overnight,” she mentioned offhandedly, testing his reaction.

He frowned. “Why? You don’t admit every person in the hospital for a bump on the head.”

“No, but you aren’t just any person.” She ticked off the reasons on the fingers of her left hand. “One, you’re a doctor, which means you get special consideration. Two, Mosby is determined to treat you like spun gold, not only because he wants to impress you but because he wants you to speak fondly of us when you go back home.”

“Ah. For recruitment purposes, I presume.”

“Probably,” she agreed. “This position has been vacant for some time so I’m sure he intends to take advantage of whatever opportunities he can to show us in a good light. The question for the moment though is, who would monitor you through the night if Dr Mosby discharges you? Unless, of course, you aren’t staying alone.” She raised an eyebrow.

“Fishing, Sabrina?”

“Not at all,” she said, airily indifferent, although deep down she wanted to know if he had allowed a significant other into his life. Not that she cared one way or another, of course. She was only being curious.

“Your living arrangements don’t concern me. However, they could factor into Mosby’s decision, so I thought you might appreciate the advance warning. If not, pretend I didn’t say a word.”

He fell silent as if mulling over his situation. “I don’t suppose the crickets count as companions?”

“Not unless they can take your vital signs and call 911 if necessary.”

“I was afraid you’d say that.” He sighed. “Then, yes, I’m all by myself.”

“I’m surprised.” She hadn’t realized she’d spoken aloud until he answered.

“Why would you think that?”

She evaded the question. “I assumed you would have brought Clay with you.” After Clay’s discharge from hospital, Adrian had moved him into his own home to oversee and assist in his rehabilitation.

“He’s living by himself these days.”

Relief at the news made her forget to treat Adrian with cool disdain. “Oh, Adrian, I’m so glad. Then he’s all right? I’ve wondered and worried about him…” Realizing she’d said too much, she cut herself off. When Adrian had severed their ties, he’d also severed her relationship to his family members and she missed them almost as much as she’d missed Adrian. Oh, she could have kept in touch with Clay, but it would have been an awkward situation for both of them, so she hadn’t.

“He hasn’t completely recovered,” he admitted. “It took awhile before he could start therapy and then his progress came slowly, but he’s graduated from a walker to a cane, which was quite a cause for celebration.”

“I can imagine.” And she could. She pictured Adrian, Clay, Marcy and Susan barbecuing in Adrian’s back yard. Adrian liked to wear his “Kiss the Cook” apron and chef’s hat and monitor the status of his burgers with the same intensity as an anesthesiologist monitoring a surgical patient. Clay had often stolen the green olives out from under Marcy’s watchful eye while Susan had scolded him for spoiling his dinner. Adrian’s portable CD player had usually provided the ambience while Sabrina had acted as the official and unbiased taste tester of Marcy’s culinary concoctions.

She wondered who did the honors now, then jerked herself off that fruitless and painful path. The McReynolds family wasn’t part of her life and never would be. For her own peace of mind, she had to remember that.

“In any case…” She steered the conversation back to the original topic. “If you’re living alone, I’d plan to spend the night in a luxurious private suite on our spacious second floor.”

“If it’s a matter of having a babysitter, you could do the honors,” he said in a clearly hopeful tone.

Coming from anyone else, she would have laughed and countered with a saucy answer, but the offer came from Adrian, which made his suggestion no laughing matter. If he didn’t look so pathetic, she’d tell him exactly what she thought of his idea, using words capable of blistering the walls’ semi-gloss enamel paint.

But he did look rather forlorn and pitiful and she let her opportunity slide. There would be plenty of others when she could fully vent her anger and not feel lower than pond scum for verbally attacking a concussed man. A confrontation was inevitable.

“Sorry, but I don’t do private nursing. And even if I did, I have laundry waiting at home.”

“You wouldn’t have to stay,” he coaxed. “Just long enough so Mosby thinks I’m not alone.”

She eyed him carefully and forced herself not to succumb to his pleading, puppy-dog-in-the-window expression. “I won’t put myself in the position where you can tell the chief of staff I ran out on you halfway through the night.”

“I wouldn’t.”

He must think her to be a complete fool if she’d trust him the minute she’d laid eyes on him, and she was not a fool. “Sorry, but that’s the sort of favor I’d only do for a friend.”

“We were friends once.”

“We were,” she conceded, “but not any more. Considering our past, aren’t you afraid I’ll slip arsenic into your coffee or smother you in your sleep?”

“I’ll take the chance, Bree,” he said dryly, “because we both know I won’t get any rest here. And…” He paused. “I’d hoped we could…talk.”

So Adrian wanted to talk, did he? She’d suffered through too many hurts to think that a simple heart-to-heart at this late date would clear the air and heal old wounds. He’d betrayed her trust and she couldn’t imagine any way he would possibly earn it again.

“You aren’t in any condition to carry on a conversation,” she said calmly, grateful for her ready-made excuse because the thought of discussing anything more serious than a weather forecast released a flock of butterflies in her stomach. The day for an in-depth conversation would come, but only when she was ready.

“Maybe not at this moment, but—”

“I’m not interested in rehashing ancient history,” she warned. “Not now. Not ever.”

“A year isn’t ancient history.”

“It is to me.” That year was a lifetime ago—Jeremy’s lifetime. Events before then weren’t worth the time or energy to dwell upon.

“Sabrina—” he began.

The curtain swooshed and a young man carrying a phlebotomy tray walked in. “Oh, my,” she said in a too-bright tone that hinted at her eagerness for the interruption, “Lab’s here. It’s Dracula time.”

Seizing the opportunity to gain much-needed breathing space, she walked out of the trauma room while the technician drew Adrian’s blood samples. Unfortunately, physical distance didn’t settle her thoughts, as she’d hoped.

Wishing she hadn’t sliced the ball like a novice and landed in her present position, Sabrina idled away the hours while he was poked, prodded, and CT-scanned. From time to time, like any good nurse, she exchanged his magazines from the waiting room’s well-thumbed collection, brought ice chips when he complained about being thirsty, and covered him with a warm blanket when she found him huddled under the sheet, half-asleep. Although she’d like to leave him to his own devices, Dr Mosby would ask Adrian about the care and personal attention he’d received, so she simply gritted her teeth and treated her nemesis as if he truly were a VIP.

Although, she decided with wicked glee, in his case the “I” stood for “irritating” rather than “important.”

Through it all, and somewhat to her surprise because Adrian didn’t accept defeat easily, he dropped the subject and stared impatiently at the clock. His gloomy mood didn’t improve until Dr Beth Iverson returned with his results.

“Do you want me to stay or leave you two alone?” Sabrina asked before the doctor could share anything that Adrian might consider a violation of his privacy.

“You may as well hear the verdict for yourself,” he grudgingly offered. “Go ahead, Doctor. Tell me what I already know—I’m fine. No cracks, no nerve damage, nothing!”

“At the risk of making your head swell more than it has,” Beth said cheerfully, “you’re right. Lab work looks great and no skull fractures or hematomas appeared on the scan. Your cut bled a lot and you can get by without stitches, although I’d like to put in a few to prevent the edges from separating too easily.”

Adrian looked quite smug as he met Sabrina’s gaze. “What did I tell you? I have a hard head.”

In more ways than one, Sabrina silently agreed.

Beth continued. “You’ll probably have a headache and some nausea for awhile—concussions will do that, you know, and as yours is mild, those symptoms shouldn’t last long. Continue with the ice packs and acetaminophen for the pain.”

“Will do. Now, if someone will give me my clothes, I’m going to my home away from home.”

Beth shook her head, her eyes apologetic. “Sorry. John wants to keep you overnight. As a precaution.”

“You don’t need someone as healthy as I am taking up bed space,” he coaxed in the charming manner that allowed him to get his own way more often than not.

Beth smiled. “I have my orders. There’s a bed upstairs with your name on it.”

His smile turned into a frown. “This is so unnecessary,” he groused.

“Take it up with the boss,” the doctor advised. “I’m just the hired help. After I stitch up your head, Sabrina will see you’re settled in your room. If you need anything, call me. I’m on duty until seven.”

She quickly closed the gash with neat sutures. After pronouncing her work finished, she breezed out of the room and left Sabrina to deal with an unhappy Adrian.

“Wheelchair or gurney for the next leg of your trip?” she asked, relieved to know her golf ball hadn’t done lasting damage. She wouldn’t admit it either, but she was privately glad he’d be under close observation for awhile. Problems weren’t always detected immediately and could develop over time. It would be far better for him, and for her peace of mind, to spend his first night in Pinehaven under a nurse’s watchful eye.

“I’ll walk.”

She shook her head. “Not on my watch, buster. Physician or not, you’re a patient, which means I’m in charge for the moment. Nor will I let it be said that I don’t abide by the rules. So what’ll it be? A wheelchair or a gurney?”

He glared. “Wheelchair.”

“Then sit tight and I’ll be right back.”

Transferring him to the medical floor went smoothly and silently, which came as a relief. She wasn’t in the mood for small talk and clearly he wasn’t either. However, once she’d braked his wheelchair and pointed to the hospital gown on the edge of the bed, he shook his head and crossed his arms.

“I may have to stay here unnecessarily, but I’ll do it in my own clothes,” he stated regally.

“And how do you propose they get here?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Need you ask?”

She held up her hands to object, but he didn’t give her the opportunity.

“You landed me in these spacious accommodations with your wicked slice,” he reminded her. “In my books, that’s a debt you have to pay.”

“If every other patient can wear the stylish apparel we so thoughtfully provide, so can you. And if you’re worried about your hiney showing, stay in bed.”

“Hiney? My, my,” he said dryly, “your professional vocabulary is amazing.”

“That’s what continuing education is for.”

“Whatever you call my hiney, buns, or posterior, there’s the matter of you being responsible for my VIP care. As a VIP, I want my own shorts and T-shirt, not a flimsy, see-through, doesn’t-close-in-the-back hospital gown.”

No question about it—the “I” definitely meant irritating.

“But you don’t sleep in anything except your boxers,” she blurted out.

“At home, I don’t. Does this…” he waved his arms in an all-encompassing motion“…even remotely look like home?”

Sensing the futility in arguing—apparently he’d decided that if cajolery wouldn’t get what he wanted, arrogance and his rank would—she heaved a sigh. “OK, fine. I presume you also want a change of clothes for tomorrow and your toothbrush?”

“Yeah. Don’t forget my electric razor either.” He dug in his trouser pocket and tossed a keyring at her before he sank gingerly into the bed. “Thanks. I’d be grateful if you’d bring them within the hour.”

She caught it in mid-air, irritated by his demand. She couldn’t possibly meet his hour deadline even if she’d wanted to because she was due to pick up Jeremy from the hospital’s day care. Chafing under his order, she chose not to warn him she’d be late. Better to ask forgiveness after the fact than to beg permission beforehand.

“I’d also like a pizza,” he informed her.

“Our cafeteria has good food. The patients all agree.”

He eyed her loftily. “If I can’t sleep in a real bed, then I want to eat real food. Sausage, Canadian bacon and mushrooms.”

She ground her teeth. “Pizza it is. Anything else for our most illustrious personage?”

With that detail apparently settled to his satisfaction and apparently not put off by her disrespect, he closed his eyes. “No, but if I think of something, I’ll call you. You do still have a cellphone?”

“Yes, I do. Who doesn’t these days?”

“I’d like the number, please.”

She didn’t want to give it to him, but she really didn’t have a choice. A notepad wasn’t in sight and she didn’t have a pen, so she recited the seven digits from memory.

He listened intently before satisfaction showed on his face. “Same as before.”

His comment caught her off-guard. “I’m surprised you remember.”

“I remember a lot of things.”

“I’m happy for you,” she said tartly, but a new set of questions suddenly popped into her head. If he’d wanted her out of his life so badly, why had he remembered her number? Knowing that he’d never acted on the information at his fingertips only made the intervening months of silence more painful to think about.

The sudden pressure in her chest demanded she escape before he saw this new hurt he’d caused without even trying. Immediately, she pivoted on one foot and headed for the door.

“Sabrina?” he called.

Reluctantly, she paused. “Yeah?” Sounding hoarse, she hoped he’d attribute it to grumpiness.

“For what it’s worth, it’s good to see you again.”

She’d spent the last year shoring up her defenses against his anger and rejection, but had built nothing to protect herself against unexpected kindness. Not trusting herself to speak over the sudden lump in her throat, she simply fled.