Читать книгу The MD's Mistress / The Money Man's Seduction: The MD's Mistress - Leslie LaFoy - Страница 8

One

It was raining. Again. It wasn’t a downpour, but a gentle rain, wet just the same, and chilly.

Becca, shoulders hunched with exhaustion, trudged back to her lodging, such as it was in the tiny African village that everyone, including God, seemed to have forgotten.

After over eighteen months in the village, Becca was beyond weary. There were times when she wasn’t sure she could keep going, but the people needed her as much as the small hospital, which had been built by the generosity of American philanthropists. And she had come to love the people, especially the children, with their sweet faces and innocent dark eyes.

Rebecca Jameson had been an O.R. nurse at the University of Pennsylvania Hospital for several years before volunteering to go serve in this small hospital in Africa. Working ten, twelve and sometimes as many as fourteen hours a day, every day, was beginning to wear on her.

Becca knew she should heed the advice of just about everyone urging her to accept a replacement and go back to the States for a long rest. But since Dr. Seth Andrews, the very talented but equally arrogant surgeon, had all but demanded she go, she stubbornly refused to leave.

Grateful for about the hundredth time for being advised to bring boots with her, Becca slogged along the squishy ground, her mind replaying the long shift she had moments ago completed. She sighed. For some reason Dr. I’m-The-Boss-And-You’re-Not Andrews had been exceptionally cranky throughout the entire day.

Head lowered, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, Becca frowned as her sight became gray, darker than the overcast sky. What—

It was her last thought as darkness closed in, enveloping her. The next moment, she toppled over onto her face, out cold.…

Becca surfaced slowly from unconsciousness. Her head ached. Her entire body hurt. Her mind felt fuzzy, as if it were stuffed with cotton.

Her first thought wasn’t, where am I? It was, pain, so much pain. She made a soft moan of protest.

“Oh, finally awake are you? I told you that you were exhausted.”

Even with her mind cloudy, Becca recognized the barely civil voice of Dr. Andrews. “I guess so,” she replied, her voice an unfamiliar croak. “So, I suppose I’ll live to irritate you another day.” She decided her brain must have been rattled, or she’d have never had the nerve to speak to the Great One that way.

“No, you won’t, smart mouth.” His tone was menacing.

“I’m going to die?”

“No, Rebecca, you’re not going to die.” Now his tone carried a note of amusement. “You’re going home.”

Home? No! The word rang loud and clear inside her muddled head. Despite his obvious dislike of her, and his equally obvious desire to get rid of her, Becca didn’t want to leave. She just couldn’t leave the children. And, secretly, she didn’t want to leave him, and not see him again, either.

Besides, as grumpy as he was, Seth Andrews was the very best physician and surgeon she had ever worked with, in and out of the O.R.

“I…don’t…want…” she began, her throat tight with anxiety.

“I don’t care what you want,” he said, his voice flat and adamant. “You are worn-out. The next time you’d go down…” He paused, drew a sharp breath. “Well, there’s not going to be a next time. I’ve called for transport. You’re going stateside, like it or not.”

“But…” she tried to protest.

“No buts, Rebecca. You’re going home. Period. Now, shut up while I examine you.”

Becca closed her eyes to hold back the tears welling behind them. Damn him. She flinched slightly at the cold feel of the stethoscope on her bare flesh.

Her bare flesh.

A sudden, unwanted tingle slid the length of her body at the realization of her breasts being bared to him. He’s a physician, for pity’s sake, she reminded herself, gritting her teeth to contain the sensation. She sighed with a mixture of relief and disappointment when she felt her gown once again covering her.

“You’re a little congested.” He frowned. “Still, you’re good to go.”

Her eyes popped open. “Can I get up?” She stared at him. He appeared exhausted, strained. Lines of weariness scored his thin, chiseled face. If anything, he looked worse than he had the last time she had seen him. When was that, she wondered… yesterday, maybe?

“No.” He shook his head, setting his too long thatch of dark hair in motion.

Becca had always thought he had beautiful, shiny hair. But now, he badly needed a decent haircut. She wasn’t about to tell him that. She wasn’t up to his scalding rebuke.

She closed her eyes again.

“That’s right. Sleep, you need it.”

As if he didn’t. Becca kept the thought to herself. His lack of rest was his problem.

She was out again in moments. This time she fell into a deep, normal sleep.

When Becca woke the second time, the headache was gone, or mostly gone, very likely from whatever medication he’d ordered running through her IV. Her body still hurt all over, but not as much as before.

“Feeling any better?”

Not his voice. With a sigh of relief, Becca opened her eyes, smiling at the pretty, coffee-colored face of the young nurse standing by her bed. “Yes,” she answered, her voice still a dry croak. “I’m thirsty.”

The nurse, Shakana, smiled back. “I’m not surprised. You’ve been asleep a long time.” Her English was flawless, not only because she had attended an American university, but also because she had diligently practiced it…with Becca’s help ever since she had come to Shakana’s village.

Watching as the young woman filled a cup with water for her, Becca asked, “How long have I been here…I mean since I keeled over in the road?”

“You went down the day, or evening, before yesterday.”

“Two days.” Becca croaked, gratefully excepting a few sips of the cool water from the straw Shakana offered her. “I’m concussed?” It was obvious, of course she was concussed. She had done a header, hadn’t she?

“Yes, a mild concussion.” Shakana smiled. “How’s the headache?”

“Better.” She managed a faint smile. “But the memory lingers on.”

“You were exhausted, Becca, or you wouldn’t have collapsed. You simply couldn’t go anymore.”

Becca sighed, and blinked at the tears misting her eyes. “And now he’s sending me home,” she said, her voice still faint, but hard-edged with bitterness.

Grabbing a tissue from a box next to the bed, Shakana wiped away the tears running down Becca’s face. “Don’t cry,” she said. “It’s for the best.”

“Best for who?” Becca cried in a croak. “For me or him?”

“Whom.” Shakana smiled.

“Who, whom, what the hell difference does it make?” She was crying harder. “I don’t want to go, and he knows it. I want to stay here, work with you…” She was now sobbing. “He doesn’t like me, so he’s using my fall as an excuse to get rid of me.”

“Oh, Becca, no,” Shakana said, still mopping away the tears. “You didn’t fall, you collapsed. Dr. Andrews doesn’t dislike you…” She hesitated, bit her lip. “I think. He is a physician, and he is right about your condition. You’re worn-out.”

“But I could rest here,” Becca protested. “A couple days of rest and I could—”

“No, Becca, you couldn’t,” Shakana interrupted. “It won’t be enough. Have you looked at yourself in a mirror lately?”

“Well, of course I have, every morn—”

Shakana again cut her off. “No, I don’t mean a quick glance while brushing your teeth, or your hair. I mean really looked, stark naked.”

Becca shook her head, wincing at the stab of pain. “No, why in the world would I do that?” she asked with sharp impatience.

“Why indeed?” the nurse drawled. “Gee, you don’t know you’re practically down to nothing but skin and bones, do you?”

“Oh, come on, Shak,” Becca protested, using the nickname she had given her friend. “I know I’ve lost a little weight, but…” In truth, she was well aware she had lost a lot of weight, but still she felt compelled to deny it.

“A little weight?” Shakana repeated in astonishment. “Becca, you are skinny, hardly any flesh on your bones at all. Your clothes hang on you.” She gave Becca a shrewd look. “Oh, I know you’ve been wearing smaller tops, but your scrub pants literally hang on your hips, and despite the elastic waistband, I think the only thing holding them up is your protruding hip bones.”

Becca bit her lips, admitting, “I was going to get a smaller pair of pants, when I got around to it.”

Crossing her arms over her ample breasts, Shakana gave her an arch look, murmuring, “Uh-huh.”

Becca couldn’t help a weak smile. “Well, I thought about getting a smaller pair.”

Shakana shook her head, her dark eyes sad. “Oh, Becca, I’m going to miss you so much. But it’s time for you to go home, rest, put on some weight. Dear friend, it hurts me to see you like this.”

Tears welled in Becca’s eyes. “Come with me, Shak, please.”

Those sad dark eyes grew misty. “I can’t, Becca. You know that. This is my home.”

“I know.” Becca heaved a deep sigh, coughing with what she thought was the emotional tightness in her chest. “I know,” she repeated, accepting another tissue from her best friend.

Crying softly after Shakana had left to check on her many other patients, Becca fell into a deep dreamless sleep once more.

At the jostling of her body, Becca was startled awake. What…? she thought, her eyes opening wide as she realized she was being moved onto a litter.

Shakana was there, and Dr. Andrews, directing the procedure, of course.

“Shakana?” she croaked from her dry-as-dust throat. “Why am I being moved?”

“The plane is here for you,” Dr. Andrews said, his voice devoid of inflection.

“But, my stuff…” she began.

Shakana squeezed her hand. “I packed your things for you, Becca.”

“But…” Heaving a long sigh, Becca gave up, knowing protest was pointless. She glanced around at the men handling the litter. From their uniforms and insignia, she could tell they were an American rescue team.

“I’m so thirsty, can I have some water, please?” She looked to Shakana, but it was Dr. Andrews who moved, holding up his hand to halt the crew. Taking the cup Shakana handed him, he put the straw to Becca’s lips. His fingers lightly brushed her chin. The light touch rippled through Becca like a minor earthquake.

Shaken by the odd sensation, she quickly gulped the cool water and moved her face away from his hand, settling her head on the pillow. “Thank you,” she murmured, not daring to look at him.

“You’re welcome.” His voice was harsh with an angry tinge.

Confused by his tone, and the possible reason for it, Becca stole a glance at him. He had turned away, again motioning the men to go.

Before they started to roll the litter away, another man walked into her line of vision. Becca frowned in confusion, because the man was wearing scrubs and a white coat. Stopping beside her, he took her wrist into his hand to take her pulse.

Becca frowned.

He smiled. “I’m Dr. Devos. And your pulse is a little rapid.”

“She’s a little anxious and upset, Doctor,” Shakana said. “She doesn’t want to leave.”

“It’s best, Ms. Jameson.” He smiled again. “If you’ll excuse the expression, you look like hell.”

Somewhere around forty, he looked so kind, his smile was so gentle, she had no choice but to smile back. “I’ll excuse you…this time.”

“I told you she was exhausted, Jim.”

Becca shifted her gaze to Dr. Andrews. In her opinion, he looked worse than she felt. Apparently Dr. Devos agreed with her assessment.

“So are you, Seth. That’s why I’m here to replace you.”

“What?”

Becca was shifting her glance from one to the other, her mind echoing Dr. Andrews’s angry and sharply voiced question.

“You’ve been ordered home. You can take all the time you need to gather your things.” He paused, grinned and added, “So long as you do it within the hour.”

“Jim, this is ridiculous.”

“Sorry, Seth, it’s out of my hands.” He turned to smile at Becca. “You may spend some time with your friend here—” he indicated Shakana with a nod of his head “—until Dr. Andrews is ready.”

“Thank you, Doctor.” Her voice was thick with gratitude. She was ill and had just met him, yet Becca already knew she liked this soft-voiced man. Besides, he had thrown Dr. Andrews a curveball! She smiled.

“You’re welcome.” Smiling back, he turned to the rescue squad. “Take the litter to one of the empty examining rooms, so the nurses can get this bed ready for another patient.” From the men, he looked at Shakana. “You have permission to stay with your patient until Dr. Andrews is ready.” With a smile to both women, he strode away.

Holding Becca’s hand, Shakana walked beside the litter to the empty examining room. Tears welled in Becca’s eyes as the rescue team closed the door behind them. Shakana was ready with a tissue to mop up the flow.

“Where did that nice Dr. Devos and the crew come from? The States?” She sniffed. “And how did they know Dr. Andrews needed a replacement, too?”

“The doctor and the crew came by military jet from the States, and the helicopter came from Israel.” A self-satisfied smile shadowed her lips. “Dr. Andrews asked me to make the arrangements. I’m the one who told them he needed a break as badly as you.”

Becca wanted to laugh. Instead she started crying all over again, which brought on a fit of coughing. “I’m sorry.” She sniffed, accepting another tissue to blow her nose. “But…I feel so, so…”

“I know,” Shakana said, her smile now soft, gentle. “I want to cry with you.”

“You’d better not,” Becca cautioned, trying to sniff and smile at the same time. “What would those guys on the team think, finding two blubbering women when they come for me?” She felt the tears well again, and impatiently swiped her hand over her cheeks. “I’m over it,” she said, drawing a breath and sighing. “Resigned to going.”

“It really is best for you, Becca. I can’t tell you how very concerned I, as well as all the people in the village, have been about you.”

“They’ve all noticed me slowing down, I suppose.”

“No, you haven’t slowed down, that’s your problem,” her friend answered. “We’ve all noticed you dwindling down, week after week.”

Becca coughed again, on the tears clogging her throat, she figured. “I love them, Shak.”

The other woman’s smile was warm with affection. “I know. We all love you back.”

Fortunately for Becca, she was saved from completely breaking down by the rescue team returning to collect her. She squeezed Shakana’s hand, hard, as if afraid of letting go.

Shakana squeezed back. “I can’t walk with you to the plane. I must get back to work.” She hesitated, tears beginning to seep down her face. “Get well soon, Becca. I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too.” Becca was crying again. “I’ll be in touch online,” she promised, reluctantly releasing her hand.

“You’d better.” Shakana was openly crying now. “Goodbye, Becca.” She stepped back to let the men move into place at the litter.

Miserable, hating Seth Andrews, she waved goodbye to the people crowded outside the hospital and along the road to the small airfield where a large rescue helicopter sat waiting. She never noticed the two photographers in the midst of the people, snapping away as she passed by.

Dr. Andrews was already in the chopper, looking angry and disgusted. Becca hoped he hadn’t found out Shakana had been the one to turn him in…so to speak.

Within minutes, the experienced crew had settled her comfortably inside the craft. Not wanting to look at Seth’s grim expression, she closed her eyes and turned her head away.

They made two stops en route, one in Israel where she was given a light meal of broth and coffee. From Israel, they were flown by jet to a military base in Germany. While there, Becca learned there had been a discussion on whether or not to fly her and the doctor straight home to the U.S. or hospitalize them there overnight.

At the time, tired, not caring about anything, Becca had no idea who made the decision to fly directly back to the States. Without argument, she ate the light meal she was offered and drank the vitamin-enriched drink handed to her. When finished she settled back and closed her eyes. All she wanted to do was sleep.

And sleep she did, deeply. She roused as the large plane began its descent at another military base near Philadelphia.

Having turned in her sleep, the first thing Becca saw when she opened her eyes was Seth Andrews. He was sound asleep, and asleep he looked like an altogether different man. Though still haggard, in repose the sharp features of his face appeared softer and younger. His enviably long dark lashes blended in with the darkness underlying his eyes.

He looked approachable.

Uh, yeah, Becca chided her fanciful thoughts. She knew better than most how very unapproachable Seth Andrews really was. The term sleeping tiger sprang to her mind, causing a frown to crease her brow.

The plane’s wheels touched down. His eyes sprang open, and he appeared ready to spring to his feet.

“We’re landing,” she said, her voice rough from her dry throat.

“So I see.” He stared at her, hard. “How are you feeling, Rebecca?”

“About as good as anyone after making such a long flight,” she answered. “What about you, Doctor? Oh, and everyone calls me Becca,” she added, as if he hadn’t known that since the first day they had met.

“Matter of fact, Becca, I feel lousy,” he admitted, to her surprise. “And, my name, as you well know, is Seth.” This statement surprised her even more. “And whether or not you knew it, you were coughing in your sleep.”

“I didn’t know it.” Not about to call him by name, she eyed him warily. The plane was taxiing, somewhere. “Where do we go from here, do you know?”

He nodded wearily. “Yeah. We’ll be ambulanced to the U. of P. hospital.”

“But…” she protested. “I want to go home. I don’t want to go to another hospital.”

“Too bad, because you’re going.” His voice was adamant.

“But…” she began again.

The door of the plane was opened. Hot air rushed into the interior, reminding Becca it was nearing the end of summer in the northeast.

“Save your objections, Becca.” He grimaced. “I don’t want to go, either. But we’re under orders.”

“Orders—whose orders?”

The latest crew was coming for them to deplane.

“The head honcho of the hospital,” he answered, as she was lifted onto an ambulance gurney. “He wants a complete workup on both of us.”

Becca caught the last of his words as she was lowered from the plane.

Damn, she thought, she wanted to go home.

Seth was in a foul mood, not at all happy with the situation. Dammit! He’d screwed up everything. All he had wanted was to get Rebecca out of Africa for her own good.

She coughed as they were sliding the gurney into the ambulance. He frowned. He didn’t at all like the sound of that cough. He should have requested rescue for her sooner, even if he had known the administrator of the University of Pennsylvania Hospital would conclude if Rebecca needed to be sent home, in all probability Seth needed a break as well.

Seth had been on staff at the U. of P. for a couple of years before Rebecca had come to work at the hospital. She was one of the best nurses with whom he had ever worked.

She was one of the most lovely and appealing, too. He had felt an attraction to her almost at once—an attraction both physical and emotional that Seth told himself he neither needed nor wanted.

That being the case, he deliberately constructed an invisible shield around himself, a facade of cool detachment and disinterest. Yet, no matter how hard he fought it, the attraction grew stronger. He even tried blaming her, but that wouldn’t wash, even to himself, because in all truth, Rebecca had always been efficient, withdrawn and every bit as cool, if not more so.

He hadn’t gone to Africa because of her. He was in line to take over for the doctor there within the year she had started at the hospital. But he was relieved when the notice came for him to clear his schedule in preparation for going.

But putting distance between himself and Rebecca hadn’t changed his feelings for her in the least. They had grown stronger; he missed her next to him in the O.R., cool detachment or not.

And then, a month after he had arrived in Africa, Becca had shown up to work with him.

He wanted…wanted… Well, he sighed, it didn’t matter what he wanted.

Rebecca obviously didn’t want anything, especially from him.

So, here he was, back in the States, with her and still so far away.

Life sucked.