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The Rebel Doc Who Stole Her Heart
Susan Carlisle
The Rebel Doc Who Stole Her HeartProtected by her ice queen façade, heart surgeon Michelle is always in control. Then maverick anaesthesiologist Ty sweeps in and ruffles her well-groomed feathers! He isher complete opposite, but even Michelle isn’t immune to his charms – especially when she sees the real Ty. She knows that he’ll be leaving soon, but can she stop her heart from leaving with him…?



Praise for Susan Carlisle: (#uaf2ee265-aeb7-54eb-a477-73b4a3d89c13)
‘Susan Carlisle pens her romances beautifully … HOT-SHOT DOC COMES TO TOWN is a book that I would recommend not only to Medical Romance™ fans but to anyone looking to curl up with an angst-free romance about taking chances and following your heart.’
—HarlequinJunkie.com

The Rebel Doc Who
Stole her Heart
Susan Carlisle




www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear Reader
I’ve always been fascinated by the attraction between two people. So many times men and woman are complete opposites and still find that special spark. A good-looking man and an unattractive woman, or the reverse. The introvert and the extrovert. The super-popular person and the one in the corner. The person who loves adventure and the one who prefers to watch TV. It amazes me how humans manage to pair off.
These extreme differences are what I explore in Michelle and Ty’s story. They couldn’t be more dissimilar and yet they fit—complement each other as if they are puzzle pieces finding their spot. What made writing this book especially fun was watching the two characters squirm as they find that they truly do belong together.
I would be remiss if I didn’t mention and thank Dr Bruce Miller, who is an anaesthesiologist extraordinaire. Much of Ty’s doctoring skills and sensitive interactions with patients were influenced through knowing Dr Miller and witnessing him in action. I also have to say a big thanks to Dr Kirk Kanter, a heart surgeon with a big heart. There is none better in the world. Through him I received amazing technical assistance that helped Michelle’s world become real. All doctors should be as good and as dedicated as these two men are to their patients.
I hope you enjoyed reading Michelle and Ty’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it. I love to hear from my readers. You can contact me at www.SusanCarlisle.com
Susan
Dedication (#uaf2ee265-aeb7-54eb-a477-73b4a3d89c13)
To Andy, the Mr Romance in my life.
I love you.

Table of Contents
Cover (#ucd97e561-8a6e-598c-a461-9c62f59a839f)
Praise for Susan Carlisle
Title Page (#u148b8842-2f6b-5976-be98-403f2760dd9f)
Dedication
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)

CHAPTER ONE (#uaf2ee265-aeb7-54eb-a477-73b4a3d89c13)
HEART SURGEON MICHELLE ROSS used her hip to nudge open the swinging door to the number four operating room in Raleigh Medical Center in North Carolina.
Her patient, Mr. Martin, waiting on her to begin repairing his artery, was the type of person that affected her most. There were almost always young children waiting at home for their parent to get better. She had to save this father. Make sure he lived to return to his family.
Dressed in sterile gown and with hands covered in latex gloves, she eyed her team and asked in a crisp voice, “Are we ready to begin?”
The quietly speaking group gathered around the middle-aged patient suddenly became mute. If a scalpel had been mishandled and fallen to the floor it would have echoed in the soundless room.
She looked at each of them and watched as every set of eyes refused to meet her gaze. What was going on? Normally her team was ready to proceed without hesitation. She asked the same question before each operation out of habit.
Glitches weren’t allowed in her OR. Efficiency was her motto. Her patients deserved the best and she saw that they got it. She’d hand-picked her team and they knew what was expected, she trusted them, so what was the issue?
Her team’s unwillingness to answer didn’t alleviate her anxiety over a case that would require her complete attention. She stepped to her place beside the table before her gaze landed on the anesthesiologist resident at the head of the patient. “Where’s Schwartzie?” she demanded.
The younger doctor’s eyes flickered a couple of times above the top edge of his surgical mask and he said, “Dr. Schwartz’s replacement isn’t here yet.”
Annoyance blistered in her. Her patient deserved better. She opened her mouth to respond but someone entering the door stopped her. A man with wide shoulders had his back to her. He made an agile pivot and faced the group. A bright orange zebra-striped surgical cap screamed for attention in her sterile and ordered world. The basic blue surgical uniform of the hospital covered his body but what caught her attention again were the glowing lime-colored clogs that shone through the surgical paper booties on his feet.
Who was this clown? All that was missing was the red nose. As he approached the group her focus centered on his striking jade-colored eyes above his mask. Those orbs met hers expectantly, held her gaze before the twinkle in them put her off guard.
Surely this wasn’t her missing anesthesiologist?
“Hey, I’m Ty Smith. I’m filling in for Schwartz.” Despite the mask covering his mouth, she could tell he was smiling as he made eye contact with each person.
“We have a patient waiting,” she said, halting any further pleasantries.
“You must be Dr. Ross,” he stated in a cheerful tone.
“I am. And I’m ready to begin.”
He pulled the stool forward with his foot and sat with one easy movement. He didn’t seem to give her a further thought or show any concern that they had all been waiting for him.
Looking at the resident, he said, “Nicely done.”
The young man who had been so flustered by her question earlier visibly relaxed.
Dr. Smith checked the anesthesia set-up and looked at her. “Ready when you are, Doc.”
Once again his eyes caught her off guard. They reminded her of a spring lawn after a rain they were so green. She couldn’t let him divert her attention from the patient. She never forgot her duty. “It’s Dr. Ross,” she corrected.
“Patient is ready, Dr. Ross.” He said her name with a subtle twist that implied he might be making fun of her.
Hours later, as she began making the final sutures, Michelle was pleased the procedure had gone without a glitch. Her patient would live a long time and get to see his children grow up. Of that she was particularly proud.
Her father had died of a heart attack when she’d been twelve. They’d been out shopping for new school clothes, something she and her mother hadn’t been able to agree on, when he’d clutched his chest and fallen to the floor of the mall. She could still hear the yells to call 911 and the running of feet, but mostly it was the sound of her own crying that she remembered.
At the funeral, as she’d sat beside her mother in the front pew of the church, she’d vowed that she’d help ensure that as many children as possible never experienced what she had. Her answer had been to study and work hard to become a heart surgeon. Her personal experience had taught her there was no room for humor here. This was serious business.
Michelle was in the process of closing when a soft hum, which began at the head of the table, distracted her. During the operation she hadn’t looked at the new guy. Instead, she had given Mr. Martin her complete attention, even when her surgical resident had been making the opening incision. She glanced toward the head of the table to find Dr. Smith busily studying a monitor. The others around the table shifted restlessly. As far as she was concerned, the OR was no place for music. She wanted nothing to distract their concentration. She’d always seen to it that any noise remained at a minimum.
Tension as thick as the polar icecap and just as cold filled the space. She didn’t miss the covert glances directed her way or towards the humming man.
The new guy looked up, his gaze meeting hers. The lines around his eyes crinkled. “You can join in if you wish.”
The man was too disrupting to her OR. He had to go. She’d see that he wasn’t assigned to her cases again. “How’s the BP?” she asked in a crisp voice.
“Holding steady,” he responded.
“Then let’s finish this up and get him to CICU. And no more humming.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
He sounded like a mischievous fourth-grade boy who’d just gotten into trouble for pulling a girl’s hair. Not very sincere and determined to do it again.
Ty rubbed the back of his neck to ease his strained muscles as he stepped out of the OR. Having traveled most of the night to arrive on time, he was tired. The car accident he’d assisted with at the city limits hadn’t made the situation any better. He didn’t like being late but it couldn’t be helped. He’d been the first one on the scene and it had been necessary to stay. He took his oath as a doctor seriously.
Moving from one place to another didn’t bother him. Heck, he’d done it all his life. That had been one of the problems. His parents had been follow-the-band, sixties wannabe hippies who’d had no business having children but they had. Joey, his younger brother by six years, had needed to stay in one place and have stable medical care but that hadn’t been for his parents. They had sought help from this guru here, a herb there or “If we only lived in the desert climate” Joey could breathe better—get better. They had been wrong. Dead wrong.
His parents had said it was just how it was supposed to be. For him, Joey being alive and pestering him about wanting to follow him somewhere was how it should have been. Sitting on the ground in the middle of the moaning and groaning and incense-smoke rising, Ty had decided that he couldn’t live like that any more.
He hadn’t been able to accept that his parents had refused to take Joey to a traditional doctor. That he’d not done so himself. He’d let Joey die. That had been when he’d made the decision to leave the community and go and live with his grandparents.
He was intelligent enough and with excellent grades he’d decided to attended med school. Maybe by helping others he could make amends for what had happened to his brother. Just out of med school he’d been offered a job by a friend who had been starting up a company supplying fill-in doctors to hospitals. He’d taken it. As a supply doctor he’d gone wherever he’d been needed, normally only staying a few weeks in each place. He was familiar with that type of lifestyle. But right now all he wanted was to find the apartment he’d been promised and fall into bed.
“Dr….”
“Ty Smith.” He offered his hand to the woman surgeon he’d shared the OR with.
She was a looker. Shiny brown hair, rosebud lips, and creamy skin. Too bad she had such an abrasive personality. She was a stuffed shirt if he’d ever met one. He’d met a number of them over the years, but this one took the prize. “We haven’t been formally introduced. I go by Ty. What may I call you?”
“Dr. Ross.”
Brr … a cold wind. Even the color of her eyes fit her attitude. Normally he was a sucker for a woman with clear blue pools for eyes, but not this time. He’d worked with others who hadn’t been completely comfortable with his less than “buttoned-up” ways but she was the iciest to date. No warm welcome here.
“May I speak to you a moment? Privately,” she said, in one of the primmest tones he’d ever heard.
“Certainly.” He stepped towards a quiet corner and she followed.
Finding his best professional voice, he said, “Well … Dr. Ross, it is a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to working with you.”
“That isn’t going to happen again. I don’t think we’re right for each other. I expect my anesthesiologist to be punctual.”
What had happened to put such a chip on this woman’s shoulder?
“I’m sorry you feel that way. I wasn’t intentionally late. And the resident was more than capable of putting the patient under. Our patient was in no danger. So, no harm. No foul. See you around, Dr. Ross.” He wanted her to understand that just because he was new to the hospital it didn’t mean he couldn’t stand his ground.
She sputtered in her effort to respond.
Ty didn’t wait to hear what she came up with. He turned and headed towards the locker room to change his clothes.
Two hours later, Ty sat behind the nurses’ station in the CICU. He’d not managed to get away as soon as he’d hoped. Busy making notes on the latest patient’s chart, he looked up to see Dr. Ross enter, along with a woman and a couple of teenagers. Dr. Ross led the way to Mr. Martin’s bed.
The nurse sitting to his left muttered to the clerk on her right, “Well, I see the ice queen has arrived.”
So he wasn’t special. She was cool to everyone.
“Yeah, but the woman sure can dress,” the clerk responded. “Too bad she isn’t as nice as her clothes.”
These women were jealous.
He couldn’t blame them. Dr. Ross was a stately woman with regal bearing. Dressed in a form-fitting pale pink suit jacket and skirt that left no curve untouched, she was eye-catching. He sat up taller in the chair. From his vantage point he could see her from head to toe. He perused her trim calves, following their well-defined length until he stopped at heels that perfectly matched her suit. He’d bet his motorcycle that they were designer, hand-made shoes.
His gaze returned to her dark sable-colored hair. It was pulled back and held by a large silver clasp, which added to the woman-in-control look. She had certainly been hiding some fetching bends and turns under that surgical garb. Too bad that if you touched her with a wet finger it might stick because she was so cold.
She spoke with gracefully arcing hands, pointing and gesturing to pumps and machinery encircling the patient’s bed. She must be explaining what they were and how they worked. To his surprise, occasionally she gave the small group a reassuring smile. So there was some warmth under that freezing exterior. She just didn’t choose to share it with him.
She glanced toward the desk and for a second her gaze met his. Did he see anxiety in those eyes?
No, that would be the last emotion he’d attribute to Dr. Ross. Self-confidence oozed from her.
Sliding back the chair, Ty continued to watch the family as they hovered around the patient. Dr. Ross no longer stood in the center of the group. She now blended into the background as she answered an occasional question. Standing, Ty came around the desk, planning to leave the unit. When she looked in his direction again he changed his angle and walked towards the group. Stopping beside her, he asked in hushed tones, “Is there a problem?”
She stiffened. “No. Why would you ask that?” she hissed.
Her eyes were on the family members, as if she was making sure they didn’t overhear their conversation.
“Good. From my end he looks good. I don’t see any reason the tube can’t be pulled out tomorrow morning if he continues on this path.”
“I appreciate—”
Her remark was interrupted by the woman he assumed was their patient’s wife. She looked at him and then back at Dr. Ross.
The sound of Dr. Ross clearing her throat and the almost imperceptible hesitation didn’t get past him but only because he was standing so close to her. She’d had no intention of introducing him but now if she didn’t she would appear impolite.
Ty smiled at the woman and extended his hand. “Hi, I’m Ty Smith, I’m the anesthesiologist who worked with Dr. Ross on Mr. Martin’s case.”
“Thank you for taking such good care of my husband. Our family, my son and daughter …” the woman nodded toward the teens “… are grateful for everything you’ve done.”
“I assure you your husband received the best of care. Dr. Ross is an excellent surgeon.” He glanced at Dr. Ross. A flicker of skepticism entered her eyes. She must be wondering what he was up to. He’d meant what he’d said about her skills. Her abilities exceeded many he’d shared an OR with but praise appeared to make her uncomfortable.
“I’m sorry that this could only be a short visit,” Dr. Ross said to the woman. “After shift change you may stay longer. Why don’t you have dinner and then come back to visit?”
“We will. Come on, kids. Thanks, Dr. Ross. Dr. Smith, nice to meet you.”
He nodded as the family passed him on their way to the door.
Dr. Ross moved to where the nurse stood and began discussing the patient.
Ty silently stepped away. Based on the conversation he and Dr. Ross had had after the surgery, she probably hadn’t appreciated him coming over to meet the family. There had been a couple of seconds there when he’d seen past her cold exterior to some emotion he couldn’t give a name to.
Minutes after leaving the CICU Michelle knocked on the chief of surgery’s office door.
“Enter,” she heard from the other side of the door.
She didn’t always agree with Dr. Marshall’s decisions or directives but she did think he was fair. He had been a mentor of sorts to her and more than once had gone to bat for her when there had been a problem between her and Administration. For the most part, though, he left her alone to do her job. He was old school but supportive. When he’d gone through medical school it had been almost entirely a man’s profession so a female heart surgeon had made him feel a little uneasy.
She opened the door, stepped in and closed it behind her. The balding doctor leaned back in his chair, interest written on his face.
“To what do I owe this visit? I don’t think you’ve been in my office for some time.”
“Bob, you know I don’t complain much.”
He nodded, his eyes intently watching her.
“But I can’t allow the new supply anesthesiologist to work in my OR again.”
Dr. Marshall propped his arms on his desk, concern on his face. “Is the patient okay?”
“The patient is fine. Doing very well really.”
He relaxed. “Then what’s the problem? Smith, I think his name is, came highly recommended. Good CV. Excellent, actually.”
“I cannot have the man showing up late for procedures.”
Bob looked at her incredulously. “Why did he show up late?”
“I don’t know. He didn’t say.”
“Did you ask him?”
“No. I didn’t. I just need the people on my team to be on time.”
“If that is the only fault you can find I think you should ask him why. I know you run a tight ship but we are all late sometimes.”
“I’m not.”
Bob released an exaggerated huff. “I know you’re not. It might be good if you were occasionally.” He said the last few words so quietly that she almost missed them. “Michelle, I think you’re overreacting a bit. We’re short an anesthesiologist and I can’t shift everyone around just to suit you. Smith is more than qualified in cardiothoracic surgery. Unless he has or is doing something to harm a patient, you’re just going to have to find a way to work with him.”
“But—”
“Michelle, I know you’re a driven physician. I can appreciate that but I think you can work this out without involving me. Smith is only here for six weeks. Surely you can handle working with him that long.”
His desk phone rang and his hand hovered over the receiver. “Let me know if there’s an issue involving a patient.” He picked up the phone and said, “Hello?”
She’d been dismissed. Opening the door, Michelle stepped out into the hall and closed it behind her.
With no support, she was left no choice but to get along with the new guy. How was she going to manage that? Everything about him rubbed her the wrong way.
Ty stepped out into the warm, damp May evening, glad to head home or at least to the place he’d call home for the next few weeks. He’d never known a real brick-and-mortar house until he’d been sixteen and had left his mother and father to go and live with his grandparents.
He shoved a hand through his hair and rolled his neck one way and then the other to get the kinks out. It had taken him longer than he’d anticipated but he’d finished introducing himself to the next day’s OR patients before he’d left the hospital.
Hooking his black leather bomber jacket on his index finger, he slung it over his shoulder and started in the direction of his motorcycle. A woman dressed in what he could see was a trim-fitting skirt was walking some distance ahead.
In the dim light he couldn’t make out the color of her hair or clothes but as a red-blooded man he couldn’t help but notice the provocative sway of her hips as she walked in and out of the shadows. She moved as if she was a model strutting on a runway in Paris. It was a sexy stride if he’d ever seen one. He wouldn’t mind making the woman’s acquaintance while he was here. Maybe she worked in one of the business departments in the hospital. He’d have to make a few inquiries in the morning.
With a feeling of disappointment he watched her step between two parked cars, leaving only her head visible. A minute later Ty approached the back of what must be her car. She glanced at him. The male anticipation he’d developed and fostered while watching her walk suddenly received an icy shower.
“Dr. Ross!” He couldn’t have contained his astonishment if he’d tried. That amazingly hot strut belonged to the ice queen.
Her eyes widened in disbelief. The key fob she held fell to the ground.
“Dr. Smith. Are you looking for me?” Her voice sounded a little high.
He’d certainly been looking at her, admiring her even.
She kneeled gracefully to retrieve her keys. “Is something wrong with our patient?”
“As far as I know, the patient is fine.”
“Then why are you here?”
“This is a public parking lot. My bike is just over there.” He pointed past her.
She glanced over her shoulder in the direction he indicated. “You ride a motorcycle?” Her voice was both shocked and accusatory. “They’re so dangerous.”
“Ever been on one?”
“No!”
“Try it. You might like it.”
He looked down at her trim ankles balanced on spiky high heels. “Of course, that outfit might draw attention if you did. You’d show so much thigh that you might be stopped for being a traffic hazard.” He chuckled.
His grin grew when her head dipped in what could only be described as embarrassment. Unless he was mistaken, her cheeks were the same rosy pink he remembered her shoes as being. Something about her reaction made him believe that she wasn’t used to receiving compliments from men. That barbed-wire attitude of hers probably kept her from getting many. She was certainly attractive enough to receive them.
“I have no interest in being a traffic hazard.” She opened the door of the car, slid in and slammed the door between them.
She might not want to be one but the woman certainly had everything required.
Ty moved on through the lot. It was necessary for her to pass him to leave. As she drove by her gaze found his and held for a second of awareness before she sped up and was gone.
Yes, the next few weeks would unquestionably be interesting.
Michelle pulled into the drive of her mother’s simple redbrick suburban home. It was located in a neighborhood where all the houses along the street looked similar. The curtains of the living-room window fluttered and her mother’s face appeared. Getting out of the car, Michelle opened the back passenger door and removed two plastic bags of groceries.
She headed for the front door. Seconds before she reached it the door opened. “Mom, you didn’t need to get up. I could have let myself in.”
Her tall but frail-looking mother, with a dusting of gray in her hair, smiled. “I know, dear, but you have your hands full.”
“And the doctor said to take it easy for a while.”
“I have been. You worry too much. What do doctors know anyway?” Her smile grew.
Michelle returned her grin. It was a running joke between them. Her mother was very proud of Michelle and told her so often. As the only parent Michelle had left, she worried about her mother, unable to stand the thought of losing her in both body and spirit. Then she would be alone in the world.
“Mom, why don’t you come and sit in the kitchen while I put these groceries away and see about getting us some supper?”
“I’d like that. You can tell me about your day. You work too hard, you know. Doing surgery all day and then coming here to see about me.”
That was also a continuing argument between them. One that neither one of them seemed to ever win.
Her mother followed Michelle along the familiar hallway to the small but cozy kitchen. This was Michelle’s favorite room in the house. It was where she remembered her father best. Even years after his death she and her mother still didn’t sit in what was considered “his chair”.
As Michelle prepared the simple meal, her mother chatted about the book she was reading and the neighborhood children who had stopped by to sell her cookies. Michelle felt bad that her mother had to spend so much time alone. She’d been such an active woman until the cancer had been discovered. Her recovery was coming along well but Michelle worried that her mother had lost hope. Worse, Michelle feared she might have. She fixed hearts. Cancer wasn’t her department. She had no control here and she was having a difficult time dealing with that fact.
With all those years of medical school and all her surgical skills, she was no more capable of saving her mother than the guy down at the gas station. Cancer had a way of leveling the playing field. No one was more likely to live than another. The only thing anyone really shared was hope. That knowledge not only made her angry but it made her feel desperate.
Michelle placed a plate in front of her mother and another at her own lifelong place. Filling their glasses with iced tea, she set them on the table and took her chair.
“So, how was your day? Anything special happen?” her mother asked, as she poked at the roast chicken in front of her.
Suddenly the broad-shouldered, unorthodox anesthesiologist with the dark unruly hair flashed into her mind. Of all the people to be the highlight of her day.
“No, nothing special. My surgery cases went well, which always makes it a good day.”
“You know you really should go out some.”
Michelle let out an exasperated breath. She changed lives through surgery for the better almost daily and some days saved a life that would soon be lost. Despite that, her mother was still only interested in her dating. No matter how old or successful she became, her mother wanted her to find someone special.
Michelle wasn’t against the idea. The right person just hadn’t come along. She had to admit that it would be nice to have a man in her life. A serious man who could understand her. It would be wonderful to have a marriage like her mom and dad’s had been.
“Michelle, you have no fun in your life. You worked too hard. When you’re not at the hospital you spend your evenings here, visiting me. You need to live a little.”
This had become an almost daily conversation. “Mom, I love spending time with you.”
“Aren’t there any young men working at that hospital you might like?”
The aggravating anesthesiologist’s twinkling eyes popped into her mind. “None that I’d ever be interested in.”
Ty opened the door to the nondescript furnished apartment. His surroundings didn’t bother him. After years of living in other spaces like it, he was more than used to this type of place. At least there would be a roof over his head, which was more than he could say about his childhood.
Pushing the large brown box with his name on it inside with his foot, he closed the door behind him. A cardboard box had become his suitcase of choice. His guitar should be delivered tomorrow. He’d arranged to have it shipped to the hospital so that someone would be around to sign for it and put it in a safe place. Sometimes he traveled with it on the bike but he didn’t like to. It was one of the few things he’d taken with him when he’d left his parents.
He dropped his helmet on the chair closest to the door and headed for the kitchen. He placed the sack holding the package of gourmet coffee on the counter then looked for the coffeemaker. Great. The machine was a good one. It had been his only request.
Doctors to Go, the service he worked for and was a fifty percent owner of, had seen that he had one. Ty had been working for the company a year when his friend had offered Ty part of the business. Owning nothing but a motorcycle and the clothes on his back, he’d saved his paychecks. There had also been the small amount he’d inherited when his grandfather had died, so he’d had the funds to invest.
His partner ran the show and Ty stayed in the background as a very silent partner. No boardrooms or conference calls for him. One of the ideals that his grandfather had drummed into him early after he moved in with his grandparents had been to plan for the future. Something his parents would have never considered. He’d done as his grandfather had suggested, but he loved working with people so he still continued to practice medicine.
He didn’t generally frequent grocery stores when he moved to a new city. Instead, he chose to take most of his meals at the hospital. Otherwise he asked around about local mom-and-pop places that served good down-home cooking. Ty had already been given a few names of places from a couple of the surgery team members. He’d try one of the restaurants on his day off.
Ty prepared and set the coffeemaker to start percolating at five a.m., before he headed for the shower. Stripping off and turning the water on, he stepped under the shower head. Not all the places he’d stayed had had great showers but having one available was more than he’d had growing up. Rain barrels and creeks just didn’t compare to a hot spray with excellent water pressure.
A muffled ring came from the clothes he’d dropped on the floor. He pushed the shower curtain back, picked up his discarded jeans and dug into the pocket for his phone. His partner had texted earlier that he would be calling about an issue with the business.
“Smith here. Let me call you right back. I’m in the shower.”
“Uh, Dr. Smith. It’s Dr. Ross,” came a soft, stilted voice.
“Who?”
“Dr. Ross.” Emphasis and impatience surrounded the enunciation of the name.
“Oh, Michelle. I thought you were someone else.”
“Obviously.”
He could just see her nose turning up as she said the word. The woman was far too stuffy. “How can I help you, Michelle?” He did like the sound of her name. It suited her.
“Our case has been moved up to first thing in the morning.”
He held the phone with two fingers to keep water from running over it. “I thought that the anesthesia department clerk made these calls.”
“Normally she does, but I was called and couldn’t get her, so I’m calling.”
If nothing else, she was thorough. He couldn’t fault that. It no doubt made her a good doctor. “How did you get my number?”
“I make it a point to have the numbers of everyone on my team.”
“I see.” He let the words drag out for emphasis. “You have it for no other reason?”
“No. There is no other. I’ll see you at seven sharp.”
He chuckled at her haughty tone. It sounded as if she were saying the words through a clenched jaw. He couldn’t help taunting her. She seemed like the kind of person who always rose to the bait. If only he could see her face.
“I’ll be there. Now, if you don’t mind I’ll finish my shower.”
“Oh. Uh … sure. Bye.”
So the frosty woman could be rattled. Stepping back into the shower, he thought he might have to do that more often. But what had him giving the stiff, buttoned-up woman even a second thought? She certainly wasn’t his type. Everything about her screamed of stability.
He’d been accused on more than one occasion of being the love-them-and-leave-them type. No woman got promises or commitments from him. That way he didn’t hurt them. Others could plant roots but they weren’t for him.
There had been a couple of women he’d dated who had made noises about him settling down. When that had happened it hadn’t taken him long until he’d been on his way to the next hospital in the next town. He wasn’t the type of person someone should depend on. When the going got tough he’d only let them down.
He liked women who enjoyed life, laughed, had fun and that was all they were interested in from the relationship. Michelle seemed far too serious about everything. She didn’t strike him as a short but enjoyable affair type of woman, even if he had been interested in having one with her. Which he wasn’t.
Enough about her. He needed some rest, especially if he was going to have to face her early in the morning and be on his best behavior. Which he wasn’t sure he could do.
He turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. Snatching a towel off the rack, he dried off. Thank goodness he’d requested maid service to start yesterday. Minutes later, naked, he slipped between cool sheets.
Dr. Ross’s strut across the parking lot came to mind. His weeks in Raleigh might be far more fascinating than he’d anticipated.

CHAPTER TWO (#uaf2ee265-aeb7-54eb-a477-73b4a3d89c13)
EARLY THE NEXT morning, Michelle tapped lightly on the door of her first case for the day.
Shawn Russell. Twenty years old. His procedure would be difficult. As a congenital heart patient he’d grown up in the hospital system and would never really leave it. Shawn was quite unhappy with the prospect of having surgery again. This time he needed to have the heart valve he’d outgrown replaced. Not a demanding surgery in most patients but in those with multiple surgeries the development of scar tissue added a degree of difficulty.
At the sound of “Come in”, Michelle pushed the door open further. The room was filled with people, undoubtedly family and friends. Dr. Smith stood beside Shawn’s bed with his back to her. Having only known him a day, she still recognized his dark hair and broad back.
He glanced around. “Good morning, Dr. Ross. We were just talking about you,” he said with a grin.
Michelle raised an uncertain brow. Never a fan of people discussing her, she wasn’t sure she was happy with what Dr. Smith might have been saying.
More than once she’d heard the whispers after she’d gone by the nurses’ desk. But instead of those negative thoughts his grin brought back memories of their conversation the evening before when he’d announced unabashedly that he was in the shower. He’d been trying to get a reaction out of her. She planned to see he didn’t get one.
“I was checking on Shawn to see if he had any questions for me before he goes into the OR,” Dr. Smith offered.
She nodded. “Good.”
Dr. Smith pushed his dark hair back away from his face. There was nothing conservative about its length or cut. Worn long and being wavy and thick, it curled behind his ears. It was the kind of hair that women envied. He certainly didn’t meet what she considered the standard dress code.
“Did you know that Shawn is a master gamer?”
What was he talking about? “No, I didn’t. That’s great.” She looked at Shawn. “Do you have any questions about the surgery?”
The far-too-thin young man shook his head. “I think my mother does.”
“I’ll go and let Dr. Ross speak to your parents. I’ll see you in the OR in a few minutes. The nurse will give you something to make you happy.” Dr. Smith grinned. “Don’t get too used to it because you don’t get to carry any of it home.” He put out his fist and Shawn butted his against it. “Later, man. Remember you promised me a game.”
“Sure, Dr. Smith.”
“Make it Ty, man. See you soon.”
Shawn nodded and gave him a small smile. For the first time since she’d met Shawn he didn’t look terrified. She and Dr. Smith might have gotten off on the wrong foot but she had to give him kudos for making patients feel comfortable. She would like to be that easy with people but it wasn’t her strong suit.
Half an hour later Michelle entered the OR prep area. Dr. Smith stood at the scrub sink along with three of the OR nurses. The group was chattering non-stop. Dr. Smith seemed to be the ringleader, interjecting a random comment which would bring on a burst of laughter from the women around him.
For the first time Michelle felt like an outsider. She couldn’t remember ever feeling that way so intensely before, or caring. She had no idea how to join their conversation. Worse, she couldn’t understand why all of a sudden she wanted to. What would it be like to belong? To know what was happening in the staff’s lives, for them to know what was happening in hers? Could she ever have that type of relationship with her coworkers? With anyone?
She remembered having friends over to spend the night as a kid. After her father had died that had become less frequent. She’d found out pretty quickly that her friends hadn’t felt comfortable with her any longer. The sadness she’d felt over the loss of her beloved father had been far too much for them. She’d started spending more and more time at home, reading and studying. It had been easier than trying to pretend to be having a good time with people who didn’t understand.
Her father was gone and her friends had slowly left also.
Michelle’s mother had encouraged her to go out to football games, to the prom, but to Michelle all those things had seemed silly. She’d also hated to leave her mother alone. They’d become a team. As the years had gone by Michelle had lost most of her small-talk skills, choosing to focus on medicine instead of a social life. Her mother, school and then her job had taken all her time, leaving little to devote to building outside relationships. There had been a few men who had shown her attention. Most had only been interested in her for her looks. Few had appreciated her intellect. They hadn’t stayed around long.
A second later another nurse joined the group. Dr. Smith did have a way of drawing not only women to him but men as well. People liked him. She had to admit she was as aware of the man as the rest of them. She just refused to let it show, had more command over her reactions.
Unable to wait any longer to scrub in so that she could begin her procedure on time, she stepped towards the sink when a spot became available. Just as she took her place, the group erupted in laughter.
Dr. Smith turned, almost bumping into her. “Hey, Michelle.”
Out of the corner of her eye she noticed the other women drifting away. She placed a foot on the pedal to start the water. “Hi,” she said, concentrating on washing.
“We were just talking about getting together tonight at a bar downtown. I’ve been asked to fill in as part of the surgeons’ band.”
“You play?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. I play a mean guitar. I think that’s why Schwartz requested me to take his place. More for my guitar skills than my medical ones.”
“I didn’t know Dr. Schwartz played in the band.”
Had he said he wasn’t surprised? She refused to let him make her feel like she didn’t belong. “No, it doesn’t surprise me that you play guitar. I was just making conversation.”
“Interesting. You don’t strike me as someone who makes small talk.” Was he trying to needle her on purpose?
“I don’t believe you know me well enough to know what I do.”
He pressed his lips together and nodded as if in deep thought. “You’re right. Maybe we should try to change that.”
Michelle looked at him. Where was this going?
“A group of us are getting together after the band plays on Saturday night. Why don’t you join us then? Practice that small talk.”
“I’m busy.”
“Well, if your plans change we’re going to be at Buster’s. Wherever that is.”
“It’s right in the central part of the old city.”
“A surgeon and a tour guide. Two for one,” he said with a grin.
She smirked at him. “My father used to take me there for burgers when I was a kid.” Why was she telling him this?
“Really, your father took you to a bar?” His tone implied he was teasing.
She made an exasperated noise. “My father would never have taken me to a bar.”
Dr. Smith chuckled. The man was baiting her again. Wasn’t he ever serious?
“It wasn’t a bar then. Just a grill. Mr. Roberts owned the place and was a friend of my father’s. I don’t know what it’s like now, but it was once a place with brick walls and had these old wooden tables.”
“You haven’t been lately?”
“Not since I was a child.”
“Why not?”
“I just hadn’t thought about going.” That wasn’t true. It had been her and her father’s special place. The memories were just too strong there. They made her miss her father more.
“Maybe it’s time to try it again.”
She finished scrubbing her nails. “I don’t think so.”
“Well, I hope you change your mind. It could be fun. If they still have burgers, I’ll buy you one,” he said, passing her on his way toward the OR.
A few minutes later she entered behind him. The team was talking and softly laughing at something Ty must have said. He seemed to always be saying something outrageous. She couldn’t blame her team for reacting. She’d smiled more since she’d met him than she had in a long time, but her nerves had been on edge just as often.
Everyone quieted down and became attentive when she joined them. “Are we ready to begin? By the way, it’s nice to see you here ahead of me, Dr. Smith.” Her voice carried a teasing tone. She didn’t tease. What was happening to her?
“Glad to be here. This time I wasn’t stuck helping out at a car accident.” His gaze caught and held hers.
He’d made his point. It figured he’d have a good reason that would make her feel bad about her actions the day before. “Understandable. I hope everyone was okay.”
“Everyone was fine. I’m ready to begin when you are, Michelle.” His eyes twinkled when he said her name.
Her jaw tightened beneath her mask. Demanding that the aggravating man call her by her formal name in the OR was a battle she didn’t think she could win. She’d let it go unless it happened at an improper time, like in front of a patient.
She glanced around to find all eyes on her. Their faces were covered but she had a sense that their mouths had dropped open. She imagined they were following the interaction between her and Ty with great interest.
Unwilling to let the team know he’d gotten a reaction out of her, she cleared her throat and said in her most efficient tone, “Let’s begin.”
Later, Ty sat behind the nurses’ station on the heart floor, reviewing patient charts before his pre-op visits. He and Michelle would share three cases the next day. Finished with the chart he’d been reviewing, he closed it as the clip-clip of heels tapping tiles drew his attention. He looked up to see Michelle coming towards him. Her hair was pulled tight behind her head and she was dressed in soft gray pants with a silky pale pink blouse. Over that she wore a finely pressed lab jacket. There wasn’t a wrinkle on it and he’d bet a weeks’ pay it was starched. Her high heels were the same dove-gray as her pants except for the tips of the toes, which were hot pink.
Disappointment filled him over missing a view of her legs. She had exceptionally fine legs.
For such a strong-willed woman she sure wore feminine colors. This outfit was just as tailored as yesterday’s, letting no one mistake her as anything other than a female. She was a paradox. All hard edges in manner and all soft and sensual curves in looks. Which was the truer Michelle? He’d like to know.
She glanced in his direction. When he smiled she quickly looked away and continued towards the room of one of her cases. He returned his attention to the computer screen and the chart of his next patient.
Opening another file, he looked up to see the nurse assigned to Shawn stamping toward the desk. Her lips were clamped into a tight, thin line. She stopped in front of the nurse sitting two chairs down from him. Through clenched teeth she hissed, “Abby, please watch my patient for a few minutes. The ice queen is riding her broom again.”
The nurse she spoke to looked none too happy but she said, “Okay. But don’t be long. I don’t want to be in her line of fire either.”
“I just need to blow off some steam for a minute. At least she has moved on to poor Robin’s patient.”
Ty saw Michelle approaching, but the two nurses had not. He didn’t miss the look of glass-shard pain in Michelle’s eyes before she blinked and her face became an unemotional mask. He had no doubt she’d heard every word. It had hurt her. By the look in her eyes—deeply.
“Excuse me, if you are not too busy, could you get me a number where I can reach Shawn’s family?”
The first nurse wheeled about, shock covering her face. “Uh, yes, yes, ma’am. I have it in the chart.”
The nurse must have forgotten about blowing off steam because she hurried to pull up the chart on one of the computers behind the desk.
Ty focused his attention on Michelle but she didn’t even glance at him.
The nurse handed a slip of paper to Michelle.
“Thank you,” she said stiffly.
She walked off. For once Ty felt sorry for her.
Not long afterwards, Ty started his pre-op rounds, visiting the patients on the next day’s surgery schedule. One of them was running a fever. He’d have to speak to Michelle about postponing surgery at least a day.
He could call her but after what had happened earlier he felt compelled to talk to her personally. Just for a second when she’d turned to leave he’d seen a crack in her mask, a deep sadness. He asked a nurse where to find her office. While he walked down the long hall in that direction, he told himself that he would be concerned about anyone who might have had their feelings hurt so publicly. It had nothing to do with Michelle in particular. He made a point not to get involved on a personal level. So why had her reaction gotten to him?
Stopping at the woodgrained door with her name on a plate beside it, he tapped. Seconds later a subdued, “Come in,” reached his ears.
Opening the door, he stepped in. The blast of color before him made him jolt to a stop. The walls of Michelle’s office were a warm yellow but what really got his attention was the huge bright red poppy painting hanging behind Michelle’s head. That, he hadn’t expected. The woman just got more interesting all the time. Her desk was the traditional hospital style but on it were modern office supplies, not typical business issue. There were two bright ultra-modern chairs covered in a fabric that coordinated with the painting and the color of the walls in front of her desk. This was obviously her haven.
Michelle’s eyes widened when she saw him. They were bloodshot, pink-rimmed. His gut squeezed. She’d been crying. She wouldn’t be happy he’d noticed either. He moved toward her desk.
“What can I help you with, Dr. Smith?” Her flat tone said she wanted to get rid of him as quickly as possible.
“Please make it Ty.”
With a sound of annoyance she said, “Is there a problem … Ty?”
Michelle said his name as if it was painful. She still resisted any relationship that being on a first-name basis implied.
“Mr. Marcus has spiked a fever.” He glanced down at the garbage can sitting beside her desk. Inside were Cellophane wrappers and white paper squares. She’d been eating chocolate cake rolls, no doubt feeding her emotions. So the woman was undeniably human.
When his gaze came back up it was seconds before hers met his. It quickly fluttered away again.
“I’m sorry you overheard them.” He didn’t take his eyes off her.
She didn’t question to what he referred. Instead, she sat straighter and said, “We need to start Mr. Marcus on prophylactic antibiotics and postpone his surgery until the day after tomorrow.”
“I agree.”
“Is there anything further?” Michelle shifted some papers on her desk that he suspected she really hadn’t been working on. She was trying to get him to leave without coming out and saying it. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to just forget that she’d been crying before he’d entered the office. Despite her less than warm demeanor toward him, he wanted to help her. He wanted to peel away the layers and find out what made the woman tick.
“I can see that you’ve already had dessert but I was wondering if you might like to grab a meal with me. I heard there is a place not far from here that serves a great roast-beef platter.”
She looked up at him as if he had snakes in his hair. “No, thank you. I have work to do.”
“Then maybe another time.”
“I don’t think so.”
He leaned his hip against her desk and looked down at where she sat. She glared at him pointedly.
“What sticks in your craw about me? Or is it you can’t stand anyone?” He raised a hand to stop her from interrupting. “It’s none of my business, and you can pretend differently, but I know your feelings were hurt a while ago. All you have to do is show them that you’re human. Smile, ask about their families. Win them over a little.”
Michelle stood with a jerk. Placing both hands on the edge of her desk, she leaned towards him. “You think I don’t know what the staff thinks about me? It isn’t my job to be friends with them. My patients’ care comes first and foremost. How dare you come in and try to tell me how to run my life? I don’t need some flit-in and flit-out doctor to tell me how I need to interact with the nurses.”
A slow grinned came to his lips. He’d expected her righteous indignation. “I’m just saying you can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar.”
She sputtered her disgust as he turned to leave.
At two in the morning Michelle pushed open the door of the physicians’ entrance to the hospital and stepped out into the night. Her team had been called in to handle an emergency. Thankfully she didn’t do too much surgery in the early hours of the morning. A hospital took on an other-world feeling late at night. Spooky yet peaceful.
She was so tired she hadn’t bothered to change out of her scrubs. Something that rarely happened. Her hair was still pulled back and secured by a rubber band, producing a small ponytail that brushed her neck. Holding her small purse in her hand, she was taking her first step towards her car when the door behind her opened. She jumped. Glancing back, she saw Ty. In one way it was a relief that it wasn’t someone with nefarious ideas; in another he wasn’t her favorite person.
This was the first time outside the OR she’d seen him since their conversation, turned blow-out on her part, hours earlier. She had cooled off but she still didn’t know why he thought he had the right to offer her advice. Especially the unsolicited kind.
She started walking.
“Nice work in there, Michelle,” he called.
She stopped and looked back at him. The lighting in the parking area wasn’t dim enough to disguise his drained stance. For once he wasn’t being upbeat and bubbly. He seemed as tired as she was. He’d changed out of his scrubs and now wore a light-colored T-shirt that fit his muscular shoulders far too tightly for her not to notice. A pair of baggy cargo shorts and sandals finished off his outfit.
On anyone else those clothes might have looked like those of a bum, but on Ty they added to his bad-boy sex appeal. His hair was no longer tied back, like he’d worn it under his surgery cap. Instead, it looked as if he’d pushed his hands through it and let it go. He looked untamed and wild.
“Whew, this early-morning stuff isn’t as easy as it used to be in med school. Who I’m I trying to kid? It wasn’t easy then.” He came to stand beside her.
Did he think that she was going to act as if nothing had happened between them? “No, it wasn’t.” She started walking again.
“Michelle, wait.”
She stopped and turned again. “Why? So you can tell me what I need to do?”
“Ooh, so the woman can carry a grudge.”
“I’m not carrying a grudge! I just don’t like people butting into my business.”
“Maybe you just don’t like people,” he said in an even tone.
She stepped toward him. “I do like people.”
“Then prove it.”
“Prove it?” What was he talking about?
“Yeah. Say one nice thing about me.”
She let out a dry chuckle.
He tilted his head and studied her. “You know, I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you approach anything near a laugh.”
“I laugh.”
“When? When no one is around?” he asked, moving passed her.
“Are you trying to start an argument?”
He paused this time. “No, I was trying to give you a compliment. Maybe flirt with you a little.”
“I don’t want you flirting with me.”
“Why not?”
She pinned him with a look. Even in the faint light she could see his wicked grin. She had no doubt that his eyes were twinkling. “Because nothing about you says you’re serious about anything.”
“That’s not true. I’m always serious about caring for my patients.”
“You know what I mean. All the nurses flock to you. I’ve even seen women from different departments come to the floor who have never been there before to see or hopefully be seen by Ty Smith.”
“Hey, you can’t fault me for that.”
He was right, but she wasn’t becoming one of his groupies. “Why don’t you make their day by flirting with them and leave me alone?”
“Because you doth protest too much. You’re far too much fun to tease. I can always count on a pretty blush and a sharp rebuttal. You challenge my mind.”
“Humph.” She started walking toward her car. “So you’ve decided I’m going to be your entertainment while you’re in town. I’m not flattered.”
He fell into step beside her. “The way you say it doesn’t make it sound too nice. Like I’m pulling wings off butterflies. Has it ever occurred to you that I might be attracted to you?”
“No.”
“No.” He voice held total disbelief. “You don’t think I could be attracted to you or, no, you don’t think I’m attracted to you?”
“Both.”
“My, you’re mighty cynical for such a beautiful and intelligent woman.”
She put her hands on her hips and really looked at him. “Ty, I’m no one’s good-time girl. I already have enough worries, without adding you to my list.”
“Don’t you ever just want to have a good time?”
“I don’t have time for a good time.” She clicked the fob to unlock her car then opened the door.
“Hey, you never said what you like about me.”
She slipped under the wheel. “Goodnight, Ty.” And closed the door.
Looking into the rear-view window, she saw him saunter over to where a motorcycle was parked. He had a loose-hipped walk that belied his size. Letting him get into her head wasn’t a good idea.
She stuck her key into the ignition and turned it. A clicking noise was all that happened. She tried it again. The engine refused to start.
The zoom of a motorcycle being turned off made her look into the mirror. Ty was getting off his bike and putting the kickstand down. She opened the car door. “The battery is dead.”
He stepped closer. “You’ve had trouble with it before?”
“Yeah. It was a little slow to start when I headed here. I was going to have it seen to tomorrow.”
“Well, it looks like you’re going to need a ride home.”
She searched for her phone. “I’ll call a taxi.”
“I’ll give you a lift.”
“I don’t think so. I’ll just wait here for a taxi.”
“Be realistic, Michelle. How long do you think it will take for a taxi to show up at this hour? And you’re sure as heck not going to sit in a dark parking lot and wait.”
“I can go inside.”
“Come on. Let me give you a drive home. I’ll ride slowly. No fancy moves.”
Still unsure, she was exhausted and the thought of having to wait another hour or longer to head home wasn’t appealing. She grabbed her purse as she climbed out of the car. “Okay, but no nonsense. I saw one too many motorcycle victims when I was doing my ER rotation.”
“I promise, only one wheelie.”
“What?” She stepped back, planning to refuse to get on.
“Kidding. Just kidding.”
Ty was pleased he hadn’t had to do a more convincing job of selling Michelle on the idea of riding on his bike. Most women he’d known had seemed to be fascinated by the prospect. It was part of his mystique. For him, it was cheap and easy transportation. Apparently Michelle wasn’t impressed one way or another with his air of mystery. For some reason he wished she was, but was glad she wasn’t. He never dipped below the surface of his emotions and he didn’t want anyone else to do it either.
He unlocked the seat compartment, pulled out a spare helmet and offered it to her. His hand remained suspended in mid-air for a moment before she took it. She made no further movement.
“You do know that you have to put it on to ride? It’s the law.”
She look around as if there might be a state trooper watching.
He shoved his hair back, preparing to slip on his own helmet. Michelle remained rooted to the spot as if she couldn’t make up her mind whether or not this was a good idea. “Are you coming or not?” Again she scanned the parking lot like she was hoping for any other option. Taking a deep breath, she put the helmet on her head. It wouldn’t go into place because of her hair.
“Here, let me help you.” He lifted the helmet off her head and reached around to release her hair. He could feel her breath on his neck.
She bent her torso away from him. “What’re you doing?”
“Trying to get your head into this helmet. Your hair is stopping it from going on.”
“Oh.”
“What did you think I was doing? Making a play for you?”
“No.”
“Yes, you did.” He looked her straight in the eyes, wishing the streetlights were brighter. “If and when I make a play for you, you won’t need to question what I’m doing. It will be perfectly clear.” With great satisfaction he watched her throat bob up and down. “Now I’m tired and I’m hungry. If you would like me to take you home you’re going to have to let me help you with the helmet. Of course, I can also escort you to the lobby so you can wait for a taxi there. Either way, I’d like to get a move on.”
She pulled the rubber band out of her hair and plopped the helmet down on her head.
So the ice queen responded to authority.
“I’m going to fix the chin strap now,” he said in an exaggerated voice, as if speaking to a child.
“Stop making fun of me. I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”
She gave him such a pointed look of defiance that he wanted to take off the helmet and kiss her.
“I’m still not sure you’re the one I want to take my first ride with.”
He chuckled as he picked up his helmet from the handlebars. “I promise it will be a ride to remember.” After slipping on his helmet, he said, “Hand me your purse. I’ll put it under the seat.”
Michelle did so, after only a moment of hesitation. Storing the purse and closing the seat, he then threw a leg over the bike, pushed the kickstand up and revved the engine. The bike roared to life. He looked back over his shoulder. “By the definition of ride, you have to get on first.”
She lifted a leg over the seat. He had the sense that she was making every effort not to touch him. When she tottered, a hand gripped his shoulder then was gone, only to return just as quickly. He’d watched those long, delicate fingers do meticulous surgery. Now he felt their strength. What would it be like to have her want to touch him all over?
She pulled her hands away again as she settled on the bike.
“You need to move up close and hang on or you’ll fall off the back.”
Michelle shifted closer but acted as if she was making sure her legs didn’t touch his. She held a fistful of shirt in each hand, instead of wrapping her hands around his waist.
“Ready?”
She nodded.
“Okay. Here we go.” He clicked the bike into gear, let off the hand clutch and the bike moved across the lot. Less than five seconds later Michelle’s arms had his waist in a death grip. Her thighs squeezed his where they met, and her face and chest were plastered to his back.
His manhood rose in response. He sucked in a breath. This had been such a bad idea on so many levels. The woman was terrified and he was turned on.
He took his hand off the handlebars long enough to pat her knee. “You’re doing great.”
As he turned right out of the parking lot, he realized he had no idea where she lived. He’d spent so much time trying to convince her to get on the bike that he’d forgotten to ask for directions. “Which way is your house?” he called over his shoulder.
There was no answer.
“Point in the direction I need to go.”
Again he heard nothing.
“Michelle, we can’t just drive around all night. You have to tell me where you live.”
She lifted one finger against his stomach and pointed ahead.
“I’m going the right way?”
She nodded against his back.
It was far too late for word games. He needed directions and she seemed incapable of giving them. Just up the street was the bright sign of an all-night diner. He was hungry and because they had done surgery tonight they wouldn’t be required to be at the hospital until the day after tomorrow. They had time to stop.
He pulled into the parking lot and under the glaring lights. As he eased the bike to a stop, Michelle’s grip on him slackened. He missed her warm, soft breasts pressed tightly against him. As if she realized she was still holding onto him, her arms fell away and she pushed back on the seat.
“What’re we doing here?”
“Getting some breakfast.”
“I want to go home.”
“In that case, you’re going to have to tell me how to get there. Which you couldn’t do on the bike. So while you give me directions, I’m going to get some eggs and bacon. Care to join me?”
Once again she looked unsure. It always caught him by surprise because she was so formidable in the OR. Maybe the overconfident woman wasn’t so self-assured after all.
“I am kind of hungry.”
She put one foot on the ground and grabbed his shoulder as she brought the other over. He climbed off. Michelle was already in the process of removing her helmet. When she got it off he took it from her and laid it beside his on the seat.
The diner looked like it had been around forever. It was a fifties-type place with silver siding, orange bench seats, and Formica tabletops. He loved the place already.
He held the door open for Michelle. Her hair was mussed and she still wore green scrubs but that didn’t detract from her stately walk or good looks. She could have been a conquering queen by the way she held herself. What made her even more eye-catching was that it was a natural part of who she was, nothing conceited about it.
There were only a handful of people in the place but all eyes turned to her. She ignored them and scooted into the first booth she came to. Ty moved in across from her.
“I thought you might like to sit where you can see your bike.”
“Good plan.”
“How long have you been riding?” she asked as she picked up a plastic-covered menu.
“Since I was about sixteen.”
“That young?” Her eyes widened.
“Yeah. I had to have a way to get to and from school.”
She looked up over the menu. “Your parents let you have a motorcycle at that age?”
“No, my grandfather did.” Whoa, she’d already gotten more personal information out of him than most people did. Usually he steered the conversation away from himself but Michelle wasn’t giving him a chance to as she shot off another question.
“How did your parents feel about that?”
“They didn’t care.”
She looked down at the double-sided card in her hand and mumbled, “I sure would have.”
“They weren’t around to care.” Bitterness filled his voice but, then, it always did when he spoke about his parents. Which he rarely did.
Thankfully the server approached their table. She was in her mid-forties, slightly overweight and had her thin hair tied back in a ponytail. “What you have?”
“Hi, there. I’ll have the breakfast platter. Eggs over easy.”
When the woman looked at her, Michelle said, “And I’d like the mile-high pancakes.”
Ty smiled up at the server. “And a large pot of fresh coffee.”
The woman smiled. “Coming up.”
“You’re amazing. That woman looked so sour when she came over to take our order and she leaves smiling because she has spoken to you.”
“Why, thank you. Nothing but the power of Ty.”
“The power of Ty, uh? Ty is a nickname, isn’t it? I’d guess your full name is Tyrone.”
Michelle was being unusually chatty. Maybe it was the late hour, maybe she was hungry or maybe it was the fact she was stuck with him. Normally he would have complained about all the personal questions but he found he didn’t want to give her a reason to stop. It was good and bad. He liked her attention too much and she was uncovering his secrets.
“I was named after Tyrone, Georgia.”
“Why after a town?’
“Because my parents were passing through it when my mother went into labor. You sure are full of questions.”
“It’s interesting. I’ve never known anyone named after a town. So you were born in Tyrone.”
Ty hesitated a moment before he said more. He’d told maybe three other people about his birth. “No, I was born in a stand of trees beside a cotton field.”
“What?”
“My parents didn’t believe in going to the hospital.” He put his fingers in the air to make quotation marks. “Birth is a natural process. You don’t need a hospital for that.”
“In this day and age I can’t imagine that happening.”
For Joey no doctor and no hospital, going all natural, had been a death sentence. Ty had seen to it that he was no longer associated with those ideas. “Well, it didn’t just happen yesterday. I am thirty-four years old.” Okay, now he’d said enough. For someone who had a difficult time building relationships at work, Michelle sure had him spilling his guts.
“You know what I mean. Medicine has advanced so far. We know so much more than we used to.”
“Yeah, science has come a long way but not everyone embraces it, neither does it have all the answers.” That statement made it sound like he was defending his parents, which he certainly was not.
Michelle’s eyes went dark and a sheen of moisture covered them before she blinked. What had she been thinking about to bring that on?
Her eyes rose to meet his. They held a stricken look for a second before her gaze focused downward. Had he stumbled on a secret? He didn’t want to look into anyone’s dark closet.
To his great relief, the server returned to place Michelle’s plate down in front of her then his in front of him. Now he’d make an effort to turn the conversation to something less personal and certainly more pleasant.
“Whoo, comfort food. I might think you’re feeding your emotions.”
“I like pancakes. Nothing special there.”
He was beginning to think there were a number of things special about Michelle.
“Still an amazing amount of food for such a shapely woman.”
“Shapely?”
“Don’t try to act like you don’t know you’re a fine-looking woman.”
“Thank you,” she said in a humble-sounding voice.
“How do you stay in such good shape?”
“I swim laps three times a week and I have good genes. My mother …”
She put a bit of pancake in her mouth but he had the feeling she had purposely decided not to say more.
“Interesting. I took you for a gym rat. But on second thoughts that would be far too sociable for you.”

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