Tempted By The Brooding Surgeon: Tempted by the Brooding Surgeon / From Fling to Wedding Ring
Tempted By The Brooding Surgeon: Tempted by the Brooding Surgeon / From Fling to Wedding Ring
Robin Gianna
Karin Baine
About the Authors (#ue02ea741-c5f4-54a3-8632-0086ee69c912)
After completing a degree in journalism, then working in advertising and mothering her kids, ROBIN GIANNA had what she calls her ‘awakening’. She decided she wanted to write the romance novels she’d loved since her teens, and now enjoys pushing her characters towards their own happily-ever-afters. When she’s not writing Robin fills her life with a happily messy kitchen, a needy garden, a wonderful husband, three great kids, a drooling bulldog and one grouchy Siamese cat.
KARIN BAINE lives in Northern Ireland with her husband, two sons and her out-of-control notebook collection. Her mother and her grandmother’s vast collection of books inspired her love of reading and her dream of becoming a Mills & Boon author. Now she can tell people she has a proper job! You can follow Karin on Twitter, @karinbaine1 (https://twitter.com/@karinbaine1), or visit her website for the latest news—karinbaine.com (http://www.karinbaine.com).
Also By Robin Gianna
Changed by His Son’s Smile
The Last Temptation of Dr Dalton
Flirting with Dr Off-Limits
It Happened in Paris…
Her Greek Doctor’s Proposal
Her Christmas Baby Bump
The Prince and the Midwife
Reunited with His Runaway Bride
Baby Surprise for the Doctor Prince
The Spanish Duke’s Holiday Proposal
Also By Karin Baine
French Fling to Forever
A Kiss to Change Her Life
The Doctor’s Forbidden Fling
The Courage to Love Her Army Doc
Falling for the Foster Mum
Reforming the Playboy
Their Mistletoe Baby
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Tempted by the Brooding Surgeon/From Fling to Wedding Ring
Tempted by the Brooding Surgeon
Robin Gianna
From Fling to Wedding Ring
Karin Baine
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09574-7
TEMPTED BY THE BROODING SURGEON/FROM FLING TO WEDDING RING
Tempted by the Brooding Surgeon © 2018 Robin Gianakopoulos From Fling to Wedding Ring © 2018 Karin Baine
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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Table of Contents
Cover (#ueec285a6-dd65-5a22-b10b-16ed23085c46)
About the Authors (#u81801cc3-9ad9-5562-b1df-396edbe95309)
Booklist (#u97e8caaa-90ca-5c58-92c8-6f2a1626300d)
Title Page (#ubeed50ea-f408-5d94-b6d3-62e4b2264a24)
Copyright (#u0c237c3b-466f-5d86-9b4d-1530407d82e6)
Tempted by the Brooding Surgeon (#u0c9c44ee-85a7-52d6-97a4-db0d1ab0f7e7)
Back Cover Text (#u0f3c9876-d215-57ef-bf82-becefc6f2378)
Dedication (#u1d69aa1c-f4e1-5d15-bbc6-b19485757ef9)
CHAPTER ONE (#u7969c27f-155b-5bdc-9d48-4e541e454d68)
CHAPTER TWO (#u9b4eed9d-118b-5705-b0f1-dd3135ff3b36)
CHAPTER THREE (#ue349bc2f-d6f6-54d0-bc8a-42e6d7e5a46a)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ucd61b89f-505e-5777-a0f9-e83c5f6e5d7a)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
From Fling to Wedding Ring (#litres_trial_promo)
Back Cover Text (#litres_trial_promo)
Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Tempted by the Brooding Surgeon (#ue02ea741-c5f4-54a3-8632-0086ee69c912)
Robin Gianna
The one man who won’t let her in...
...is the only man she wants!
Annabelle Richards arrives in Peru to find she’ll be working with renowned surgeon Daniel Ferrera—the man who almost ruined her career! She’s worked too hard to let him get in her way again. But when Annabelle learns that Daniel’s brooding exterior hides a wealth of pain, an unexpected passion ignites between them. Will temptation prove too much to resist?
I’d like to thank Julie Niezgoda, MD, for her tremendous help as I learned about the medical missions she’s participated in. She gave me heaps of helpful details about what’s involved in paediatric anaesthesia and surgeries on those missions, which are often done with much less equipment than modern hospitals provide.
Appreciate it so much, Julie!
Smooches! xoxo
CHAPTER ONE (#ue02ea741-c5f4-54a3-8632-0086ee69c912)
WHAT CAN GO wrong will go wrong.
Annabelle Richards had no idea who’d said that first but, boy, they sure were right. What should have been a ten-hour flight from Chicago to Lima, Peru, then another hour and a half travel to the mission hospital, had turned into a forty-eight-hour delay. She was finally in the back of a taxi, dead tired from lack of sleep and running late for what should have been the second day of her posting at the hospital but was now day one because of her delays. She was scheduled to start at 8:00 a.m. Just seven minutes away.
She leaned forward to ask the taxi driver the same question she’d already asked a dozen times. “Are we close?”
“Sí. Soon, señorita. Short minutes more.”
Annabelle tried to relax back into the vinyl seat of the dusty cab, but the tightness in her gut kept her sitting upright. The entire surgical team was likely already annoyed, her lateness interrupting their carefully designed schedule and putting everyone behind on attending to all the patients they’d hoped to see. She could only pray that the first surgery scheduled this morning wasn’t something life-threatening.
What if someone died because she wasn’t there in time to get them anesthetized and intubated? What if one of their small patients had gotten sicker yesterday while they’d waited for her, making today’s surgeries even more serious?
How had everything gone so wrong all at the same time?
First, the transport monitor she’d worked months to have donated for this trip had gotten locked into a storage room that no one had seemed to have the key for. A frantic hour had gone by before she’d finally retrieved it, then torn to the airport, panicking that she’d miss her flight. Which, of course, she had. Then weather delays and missed connections added to the disaster.
Looking back, it was all her own stupid fault for being so determined to bring the monitor, instead of having it shipped. Except the whole reason she’d waited around to get it was because the last time she was here, a tiny premature baby had almost died without a monitor to check his heart rate and other vital signs.
She could only hope that missing a day of surgeries because of it hadn’t resulted in a child dying anyway.
She scrubbed her hands down her cheeks, her nerves practically screaming with the need to finally get to the clinic. Being physically there and on time was more important than equipment any day.
Hadn’t she been told more than once that her dog-with-a-bone determination got her into trouble sometimes? This sure was one of those times, and the trouble just kept coming. The huge delay had meant she’d also missed her meeting at the hospital in Lima. A beyond important meeting that might have saved her old school from being shut down in a matter of months. And now her dream to turn the school into a medical training facility for impoverished youths just might be doomed to failure.
Annabelle stared out the window at the passing landscape, wanting to distract herself before she went further into a panic spiral. The gorgeous, deep blue ocean and white sand beaches on one side below the road were in starkly colorful contrast to the green and brown mountains on the other side. Beautiful cliff-side homes and rickety shanties made of whatever hodgepodge of materials folks could get their hands on dotted the lush landscape.
The poverty in her old neighborhood was more than real. But in so many ways it couldn’t compare to the tiny, leaky places so many people here in Peru called home. Whenever families heard the medical mission crews were coming to an area, they’d trek for miles, hoping their child would be chosen to receive surgery and care. They’d sleep on the ground and patiently line up for their children to be seen, and if they were told that their child couldn’t be taken care of, that there was no more room in the schedule, they’d smile and thank the doctors and nurses, saying they’d be back to try again next time.
Helping those children was beyond important. Somehow, she had to find a way to get the meeting in Lima rescheduled so she could get the partnership and funding to give underprivileged kids a dream and a goal, while still taking care of as many patients needing surgery here as possible.
The taxi driver finally turned off the main road, and she sat up straight again, relief surging through her veins as she recognized the landscape. “Is this it? Are we about there?”
“Sí. Just up the hill a couple of miles.”
Thank God.
The cab lurched to a stop where the road ended, which left another five hundred or so feet to the small hospital OR. On an uphill slope she knew wasn’t easy to navigate, especially when it rained. “Just put my suitcase and the rest of the stuff on that rock there, please,” she said, pointing. “I’ll get it later.”
He nodded and did as she asked before she stuffed a wad of money in his hand. Being in a position to give a generous tip to someone she knew needed it always awed her and thrilled her, after so many years of having nothing herself. “Thanks so much. Can you hand me the monitor so I can carry it easier?”
The sketchy Spanish she’d been painstakingly learning, along with a few gestures, seemed to get her message across and he deposited the equipment into her wide open arms with a grin and a nod. “Adios.”
“Adios! Thanks again.”
Annabel turned to trudge up the hill, slipping a little on small stones as she went. Had the path always been this long? Huffing and puffing and only about halfway there, it felt very possible that her arms might crack off from the heavy weight of the patient monitor before she even got to the operating room. If she’d had any brains, she should have paid the man extra money to carry it for her. But since she knew everyone was waiting for her to finally show up, pausing to put down the awkward thing and catch her breath wasn’t an option.
Thrashing herself all over again for not thinking this through, Annabelle heaved the transport monitor higher against her chest, praying she didn’t drop it before it could even be used. Wouldn’t that just be the icing on the disaster cake?
Sweat rolled down her back, morphing from a trickle to a waterfall despite it being only about seventy degrees on an early March morning, and every hurried step seemed to add another pound to the weight in her arms. A few more lurching steps, and she topped the rise. Seeing the cement block building that made do as an operating room in this part of Peru would have her whooping if she’d had any breath left, but instead she sagged in relief.
She’d made it.
Trying hard to ignore the way the monitor jabbed her breasts and the sharply painful muscle twisting in her shoulder, she bit her lip to keep from cursing. Finally, she got the doorknob turned and the door shoved open with her shoulder.
“So sorry I’m late,” she said breathlessly to anyone listening as she stumbled into the sparse room. “And that I missed yesterday, too. I hope you were able to take care of nonsurgical stuff since I wasn’t here but, still, I know it wasn’t good that I missed my flight. Really sorry about that.”
Quickly scanning the space to take in the small assembly of medical professionals near the surgical bed, she saw the familiar face of a Peruvian nurse named Karina whom she’d worked with here before, and her friend, Jen, who worked in a different hospital in Chicago.
“Hi!” Annabelle said with a smile and an accompanying wave of her few free fingers. The lack of return smiles, along with the worry on their faces, briefly registered before she looked down at the small patient they were crowded around, who was lying on the bed and staring up at her somberly.
“Hello, buddy!”
She sent him a reassuring grin before looking for a table close enough to the patient to set the monitor down, her arms beyond desperate to be relieved of the heavy machine.
“Oh, my gosh, this thing weighs a ton! Where can I put it? I hope you all haven’t been waiting for me too long. Getting here has been one problem after another! First there was a delay getting the monitor at the hospital, which made me miss my stupid flight. Then I hit bad weather and missed my connection, which was even worse. Plus, I had no idea airport security would take such a crazy long time examining the monitor this morning, and I—”
“Most of our surgeries have been done without a monitor in the past. If security had a problem with it, you should have left it at the airport. Or shipped it to begin with, which would have prevented all your problems so you could be here on time.”
Annabelle froze, her heart knocked hard against her ribs, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe at all.
That voice. The cold tone. The stinging criticism. All were too horrifyingly familiar. Forcing herself to slowly turn toward the tall, gowned man standing with his arms folded across his chest next to the patient, her worst fears were confirmed.
She may not have seen him for five years, but she’d recognize those hard brown eyes anywhere. The cut cheekbones. The bronzed skin. The displeasure and disdain on his face. The lips that were inexplicably sensuously shaped, even when pressed together in clear annoyance.
Dr. Daniel Ferrera in the flesh.
The man who had sabotaged her first career goals.
Gulping, she tried to pull air into her lungs. How could this be? How was it possible that of all the cardiac surgeons in the whole world, he was the one here on this mission trip in Peru?
“Making us miss an entire day of surgeries yesterday was unfair to everyone else, both the patients and the surgical team who took valuable vacation time to be here, Dr. Richards. And this morning you’ve kept the patient waiting for his surgery, making it so fewer patients will get seen today and all week, disappointing the families hoping their child will be taken care of since we won’t be able to fit in nearly as many because of your actions.”
Condemnation filled his dark eyes as they seared into hers. “I could have sent someone to get the monitor from the airport later, while you were here doing your job, but apparently some things never change.”
“I... The monitor was donated by a benefactor.”
“And the benefactor is more important than our patients here?”
“No. No, of course not. But I had to make sure the monitor arrived safely. When I was here last, we almost lost a patient because there was no monitor. A premature infant, and that’s just not acceptable if there’s any way to avoid it. So I decided to bring one here this time.” Icy shock numbed her brain, making it hard to speak coherently, and her insides seemed to squeeze and sag along with her arms under the heavy weight of the monitor as she stared at him.
Daniel must have seen her struggling to hold the machine, as a disgusted sound left his lips before he strode to take it from her, sliding it onto a nearby metal table.
“If you’d simply shipped it, you wouldn’t have hit bad weather, wouldn’t have missed your connection, wouldn’t have had to deal with airport security and wouldn’t have missed your first day, setting back the schedule for the whole week. It seems apparent that you’re not cut out for this kind of work.”
The arrogant tone, the sarcastically raised dark eyebrow, the scorn on his face cut through her horrified paralysis. Yes, it was true, she might not be cut out for any of the things she’d striven so hard to be excellent at. She wasn’t like him and all the others who came from their hoity-toity privileged backgrounds, people who’d had every advantage handed to them with white gloves and smiles, showered with accolades and money and a golden path laid out for them to become physicians.
She might be leagues below him in every way but, if nothing else, her pathetic history had at least given her grit and bravado. Living in rough neighborhoods around even rougher people had taught her that, when pushed, you’d better push back or you’d end up rubbed into the floor. She wasn’t about to let him talk to her that way, in front of their patient and the rest of the small surgical staff, whether she deserved it or not.
“For your information, this is my ninth mission trip, Dr. Ferrera. I’m not a newbie. I know the circumstances we’re dealing with here. But if we can save even one life by having a monitor, I was damned well going to make that happen.” She grabbed the mask and IV with shaking hands to show him it was time to stop talking and get to work. “I’m no longer the green anesthesiologist I was when we last worked together. Since your insults and criticism are only delaying the surgery on this boy even longer, I suggest we get to it.”
Dark eyes slashed across her like a whip before he turned to the patient and crew. “Since Dr. Richards obviously hasn’t had a chance to study our surgery lineup today, I’ll have to go over it again. We have an atrial septal defect, with the hole thankfully small. Get him hooked up to the all-important monitor while Dr. Richards gets the gases ready. As soon as he’s asleep and ready, I’ll get started.”
Everyone got to work. Daniel’s scowl and his stiff professional tone changed completely as he leaned over the little boy, speaking softly and melodically in Spanish. Whatever he said actually made the child smile, and though Annabelle didn’t want to feel the squishiness in her heart at how beautifully he was reassuring their young patient, it happened anyway.
How could the man be such a chameleon? A total autocratic jerk one minute, and a gentle, caring doctor the next? It didn’t matter, really. Neither of them would ever get past what had happened five years ago, and his obviously negative convictions about her skills. The thought of having to work with him for two entire weeks made her stomach churn. Before she’d even started her first surgery, she found herself hoping it was the fastest two-week mission trip in history.
But with no way to actually warp time to make that happen, she would focus on their patient and her job. She prepared to connect the two anesthetic gases to the small clear mask, then leaned over to show it to the child. Trying to explain it to him in her halting Spanish, she realized the stress of facing Daniel Ferrera seemed to have obliterated from her brain the few words she did know in the other language. With the surgery needing to start pronto, she knew that swallowing her pride was the right thing to do, and turned to her friend Karina. “Can you tell him I’m going to put the mask over his nose and mouth, and he’ll go to dreamland for a while?”
Before Karina could say a word, Daniel Ferrera leaned over the patient again, speaking more of that lovely, lilting Spanish, and mere seconds after Annabelle placed the mask on his face, the boy’s eyes were closed. Grateful that she’d done this enough times that her shakiness evaporated as she worked through the steps, Annabelle worked to connect the IV lines to his arms and legs, then the final, central line to his neck connecting directly to his heart. A necessary step of stunning the heart before the surgery could begin. “Pressure?”
“Monitor shows we have railroad tracks so all okay,” Jennifer said.
Annabelle glanced at the monitor, glad to have it for confirmation, no matter what Daniel Ferrera thought about it. “Good.” She concentrated on inserting a breathing tube, relieved that the boy’s mouth opened wide enough for it to go in easily. “Neuromuscular blockade set. We have a one airway, so he’s breathing manually.”
All she got was a nod from Daniel Ferrera before he got to work. Just as she’d remembered from the last time she’d watched him perform a delicate operation, he was steady, confident and precise. Not a single bobble or pause, just an even pace and periodic questions to the support crew and her as they monitored the patient. But there was no question that the tone of voice he used when he talked to her was completely different than the one he used with everyone else. Abrupt and clipped, showing loud and clear that he was still annoyed.
What was with the man that he couldn’t just let things go? It was clear nothing had changed from five years ago. Didn’t he believe people deserved a second chance after a mistake? Even if that mistake had been a terrible one?
For the next several hours, the surgery went smoothly, the whole team working together seamlessly without a hitch.
“That’s a wrap.” Daniel said, finally leaning back and running his finger down the closed incision. “Time for epinephrine to get the heart working again, then we’ll wake him, Dr. Richards.”
* * *
Her eyes lifted to briefly meet his, and if that icy blue could have physically stabbed him, he had a feeling she would have been glad. One of the many personality traits he disliked in medical professionals was if they tried to pass the buck when something went wrong. He did everything he could to make sure every surgery went perfectly, but when he made an error, or an error was made by someone he was supervising, he owned it.
Which Annabelle Richards should do, as far as he was concerned. Maybe her lateness hadn’t caused catastrophic damage, but they very well might not be able to perform surgery on all the patients they had scheduled today without everyone working into the late hours. Her tardiness wasn’t fair to any of their small patients who might have to wait until the next visit, or to the hardworking staff at this hospital who were donating their time to this cause.
“Are you prepared to work late tonight, if we have to, Dr. Richards? You look a little tired from your stressful travels.”
“How sweet of you to worry about me, Dr. Ferrera,” she said in a sarcastic tone. “No need, though. I may look like a hag, but I’m not tired at all. I’ll work as late as is needed.”
“Good. Because now we’re more than a day behind schedule, as you know.”
“I do know.” A near snarl curled her lip as she turned back to the equipment.
Hag? Now, that was a word no one could ever apply to Annabelle Richards, curled lip or not. Daniel studied the mutinous expression on her face as she diligently avoided looking at him, and couldn’t deny that, for some reason, her take-no-prisoners attitude and spunk was as appealing as the sweet smile in her blue eyes and on her lush lips that appeared as she turned to their small patient. He couldn’t deny that, for a split second, thoughts of what it would feel like to kiss that seductive mouth had scorched his brain just as it had the first time he’d seen her five years ago. It annoyed the hell out of him.
Gorgeous, sexy and sassy didn’t have anything to do with good medical skills, and he figured that her beauty had probably helped her advance in her career when she shouldn’t have. When he’d blocked her getting a permanent position five years ago at the hospital where he still worked, two of the upper-level hospital administrators had stepped in and gone to bat for her. He still believed her good looks, with serious curves in all the right places, had been part of why they’d wanted to keep her around.
Regardless, Daniel was the best cardiac surgeon at the hospital, and when he’d stated with no room for discussion that he’d never work with her again, they’d known he’d meant it. No one wanted to have to dance around that kind of scheduling nightmare, so off she’d gone in a matter of weeks.
Had he thought about her a few times afterward? For whatever reason, he couldn’t deny that he had. For a few months after she’d left, when he’d closed his eyes at night, he’d sometimes seen her face and lips. Her silky blond hair falling to her shoulders in soft waves. That body of hers, which any man would salivate over. He didn’t think the strangeness of his random thoughts about her were from any guilt over getting her fired. No, he’d figured it must be a sign that he’d been working too hard. Needed to let off steam with someone he knew was interested in only that and not any other kind of relationship, since he could never offer anything long term.
Yes, he’d thought about Annabelle Richards, but had he ever regretted blocking her from getting the permanent position? Not for one second. There was no room for error in surgery. He knew that better than anyone, and on the rare occasions he got pushback from someone on his medical team for his perfectionist attitudes, he thought of his brother and stood his ground.
His brother’s cardiac surgeon simply hadn’t been careful enough during the delicate surgery he’d needed, and if he had been, Gabriel would still be here, joking with Daniel, pushing the boundaries with their parents and grandparents, living his life at one hundred percent velocity like he always had until the day he’d died.
The loss had torn Daniel up. Had left a painful, gaping hole in his family, and he had no desire to ever forget how that felt.
Remembering his brother gave him the strength and resolution to be the kind of surgeon he had to be. To insist that everyone be on top of their game for every single patient. Every single time. He and his team owed it to his patients, and to the people who loved them, to give every one of them the best possible care available, and that included the nursing staff and the anesthesiologist.
The patient Dr. Annabelle Richards had nearly killed five years ago during surgery had suffered from exactly the same heart condition as Gabriel. No way had he wanted her to work as the anesthesiologist on his team.
And yet here she was. So what was he going to do about it? Mission hospital or not, he owed every single patient the best surgical outcome he could obtain with the tools that he had at hand. Dr. Annabelle Richards would not be the person who lowered that standard.
Daniel yanked down his surgical mask, gave their patient one more careful check over, asked him if he felt okay, and reassured him that he’d be visiting with him in Recovery when he felt better. Stripping off his gloves, he moved out of the OR to see the next patient coming in. He checked the diagnostic work and the seriousness of the six-month-old’s situation. Stuck his head into the small, spartan waiting room crammed with patients before talking with the local woman juggling the surgery schedule to see how many children they could see that day.
Whoever the anesthesiologist was on each mission, they often accompanied him on these quick rounds. But Dr. Richards had chosen to stay back in the OR, probably to tinker with her all-important monitor.
Having her work as anesthesiologist for the next few days’ surgeries was the only option to ensure that everyone on the docket got taken care of. But as soon as he had a moment free? He’d be looking for a replacement for Annabelle Richards.
CHAPTER TWO (#ue02ea741-c5f4-54a3-8632-0086ee69c912)
DAWN CREPT MISTILY across the mountains as Daniel stepped outside the hotel where the medical team was staying, sipping hot coffee obtained from the large urn in the foyer. He savored the taste of it on his tongue, letting the flavor of the locally grown arabica linger there, along with memories of his childhood. He and his brother had always loved the stuff, and he smiled, remembering sending Gabriel to sneak into the kitchen in the morning to pour both of them a cup, heaping them with cream and sugar.
Daniel had been more of a rule follower than his twin, but when it had been to his benefit, he’d been happy to take advantage of his brother’s mischievous, more daring nature. Sometimes that had involved sports and adventures, sometimes it had been stealing desserts or coffee or other things they weren’t supposed to have, straight from under their nanny’s or parents’ noses.
He took another swig of the hot brew. Straight black was the way he liked it now, giving him a much-needed caffeine jolt after having worked late into the night before getting busy making phone calls to acquaintances at various hospitals who might know of an accomplished anesthesiologist who’d be available and willing to work at the mission hospital for the next two weeks.
With any luck one of the people recommended would be willing to take over Annabelle Richards’s small shoes. He knew she’d be furious and, to his complete surprise, a niggle of discomfort over his phone calls briefly poked at him, knowing she’d given her vacation time to this trek and gone through a lot of effort to get here against the odds. There was also the undeniable fact that throughout yesterday’s surgeries she’d been utterly competent and professional.
But that didn’t mean that she always would be. He had no idea if she’d grown as a doctor, and he reminded himself, again, that it was critical to have only the best anesthesiologist available for the kinds of complicated heart surgeries they performed here.
But maybe there was some compromise to be found. Maybe he should suggest she work in a different mission while she was in Peru, rather than sending her back to the United States when he found a replacement. There were several clinics in poor parts of the country that were only occasionally open to patients. Clinics that did far less complicated surgeries than he’d be doing. Surgeries that didn’t take six or eight hours to accomplish, and weren’t life-threatening. She could handle those kinds of things, he knew. And any local doctor without much in the way of staff would welcome her help.
It was a good plan. And maybe part of the reason it sounded good to him was because he couldn’t deny that, despite having very valid reasons, seeing anger and maybe hurt in those blue eyes that could quickly turn from warm and friendly to icy disdain in a single blink wasn’t something he looked forward to. Maybe knowing another clinic needed her would make her happy to go there instead.
Impatient with himself and the odd mental discomfort he felt, Daniel looked out towards the mountains in the distance, pondering how he could get Dr. Richards moved to another clinic, when a movement nearby caught his attention. As though he’d conjured her from the shadowy mist, Annabelle came out of the hotel doors, her pale hair shimmering through the mist much the way the moon was, still hanging low in the slowly lightening sky.
Surprised that she’d be up so early after her botched travels and long work day, he took in the light pink robe she wore, cinched close at the waist and emphasizing her large breasts and the roundness of her hips. Her legs, bare and shapely, seemed longer than when she wore scrubs. Both hands were wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, and the way she breathed in the scent, closed her eyes as she took a sip, and tipped her head back as it slid down her throat, made his heart give a little kick. A small smile tipped her soft-looking lips. His entire body reacted to the utter sensuous pleasure on the woman’s face.
This was how she’d look making love. Pleasured, satisfied, wanting more. And he wanted to give it to her. Wanted to walk over, kiss her and open up that robe to slide his hands inside to feel her soft skin, caress all those curves.
Damn. Where had all that come from? Somehow, he forced himself to look away and take a big gulp of his own coffee. His chest burned, but he wasn’t sure it was from the drink. Thinking of her in that way was all kinds of wrong when they were working together, even if it ended up being for only a short time.
Daniel didn’t know whether to try to skulk deeper into the shadows until she went back inside or make some noise to let her know he was out here. He decided the first was cowardly and weak, and since he tried to never be either of those things, he took a few steps toward her.
“I see you need coffee to get going in the morning as much as I do.”
She swung to stare at him, surprise touching her face before it settled into a frown. The pleasure replaced by annoyance. “I like coffee, but I don’t need it to get going.”
“Energetic the second you leap from bed? Lucky you.”
“Not exactly, but I do other things to wake myself up.”
“Now you’ve intrigued me.” Which was an understatement, as several completely inappropriate thoughts lunged into his head. “What things?”
“I’m always amazed at how beautiful it is up here,” she said, ignoring his question to look out over the vista in front of them. “You’re from Peru originally, aren’t you? How did you end up in Philadelphia?”
He let his gaze follow hers to the mountains and the golden rays illuminating their peaks. “This was home for us until I was ten years old. Still is a part of me, I guess. We lived in a more urban area, which was, and is, beautiful in its own way. But the government became corrupt, and rival terror groups wreaked havoc on the entire country. The political unrest and economic mess finally forced my parents to move to the US, taking some of the family business interests with them.”
“I’d heard about the political troubles, but it’s much better now, isn’t it?”
“Yes, thank God. My grandparents stayed, and there were a number of years that we worried about their safety. But the government and economy are both good now, and businesses are thriving. The quality of life is good, too, for many. But that can’t be said for everyone here, as you already know.”
“Why is that?” As soon as she said it, her lips twisted. “Never mind. The same question can be asked about the US and plenty of other places. Why there are those who have a lot and others who don’t.”
It seemed her blue eyes shadowed at that, and he nodded. “Yes. The stark contrasts that exist here are part of the wonder of Peru, and part of its shame. Until I moved away, I took for granted the huge and interesting differences between the arid coastline and deep rainforests. Snow-covered mountains and the fertile valleys that grow so many fruits and vegetables, sugarcane and coffee. Gold and silver mines are a big part of the economy, too, and I’m sure you’ve seen our famous and unique fabric arts. So much to love about this place, and for tourists to enjoy.”
“Do the indigenous people resent the tourists showing up at Machu Picchu and their villages, or do they appreciate the tourist trade? The foreigners buying the gorgeous woven clothes and blankets?”
“I assume they’re glad to sell their wares and to make money that way, but don’t know for sure. I haven’t really talked to patients’ families about that—guess I should.” Interesting that she’d asked that question, when he hadn’t really thought about it at all. “Peruvians have a deep history with so many ancient cultures and widely diverse ethnicities. There’s also a sharp divide between the wealthy elite, like my own family, and the extremely poor that I’m committed to take care of.”
“So you’re one of the wealthy elite? Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
The way she said it, with a slight scowl creasing her brow, showed she wasn’t the least impressed by his background. “I am blessed in that way, yes. But it doesn’t blind me to the problems here. To the atrocious wall in Lima that runs between shantytowns on one side of the mountain and large homes with every amenity on the other.”
“The wall of shame. It’s awful.” She scrunched up her face in a way that would have been beyond cute if the subject weren’t so serious. “But even though that kind of divide isn’t as physically obvious up here and in other places in the world, the gap is still pretty big. I mean, look at this place.”
He didn’t have to follow the wave of her hand to know what she meant. “True. Sometimes I feel guilty to be staying in this kind of modern hotel, knowing that, close by, some of the families we take care of don’t have running water or electricity.”
“Me, too. But does it make me a horrible person that I’m glad to be able to stay here anyway? I’ve worked in places that didn’t have running water and had generators that only provided electricity part of the day, but I can’t lie. I appreciate knowing I can at least take a shower and that’s what keeps bringing me back to stay more often when I’m working here.”
He had to smile at her earnest expression, as though she felt she really should feel guilty about that. “No, it doesn’t make you a horrible person. It makes you someone from the Western world, and we’re all spoiled by having a light switch we can just turn on, aren’t we?”
“Yeah. If the electric bill’s been paid,” she murmured, before sending him a slightly strained smile. “Anyway, I think I’ll get going on my morning routine then take advantage of that shower before work.”
“Surgery doesn’t start for another couple of hours. Why are you up so early, after having so little sleep because you had to bring that monitor?”
That earned him a narrow-eyed stare, and he mentally smacked himself for bringing it up again. And why had he? He’d been thinking about the gray smudges beneath her pretty eyes, wishing she’d go back to bed for a while so she’d feel refreshed. Not about the stupid monitor or her lateness.
“I’m always up early. It’s important to get mentally centered before taking on the tasks of the day.”
“What do you do to get mentally centered?”
“Meditation. Yoga. I know...” She held up her hand. “Someone like you is probably thinking I don’t have a yoga body, but a person doesn’t have to be thin to do healthy stretching, you know.”
Her words sent his gaze back to her tantalizing figure in that robe and he had to yank it away before she saw him staring. “Someone like me?”
“Yes. A person who thinks it’s his right to judge and criticize others. How they do their job. Where they come from or what they wear. Mostly, it’s obvious you usually decide that pretty much everyone on your medical teams come up short, undeserving of breathing the same rarefied air as you.”
“You have me all wrong.” Inexplicably, her words stung, even as he felt confused as to why she was saying some of it. “I don’t judge people. Didn’t we just have a conversation about how much I care about the have-nots who live here? As for my medical teams, I demand the best for my patients. That was the only thing on my mind five years ago, since that’s clearly what you’re talking about here.”
“I want the best for my patients, too. Except I don’t throw other people under the bus, even when they make a mistake or could do something better. I give them a second chance, and try to help them along the way.”
“Some patients never get a second chance.” The words came out more sharply than he’d intended as memories of Gabriel squeezed his chest. “Which is why I insist on working with only the most qualified people, instead of pandering to anyone’s ego.”
“Well, anyone who could keep their ego intact around you must be made of steel. And it seems to me that maybe you’re the one with the ego problem. Hotshot cardiac surgeon from a wealthy family. A guy with a God complex who thinks he’s better than everyone else.”
“I have many colleagues who ask to work with me, and if that’s because they think I’m one of the best surgeons around, I’m happy about that. If you call that a big ego, so be it.”
She took a swig of coffee and shrugged. “I call it like I see it.”
He took a step closer, his chest burning at her unexpected attack, and after they’d had such a friendly conversation, too. “Maybe the truth is you have a plenty big ego yourself. Attractive enough to land a job in a prestigious hospital. Beautiful enough to have hospital higher-ups go to bat for you, even when you mess up.”
She gasped, taking two big steps forward to jab her finger into his chest, her eyes flashing with blue fury. “That’s just insulting, and if I were a man you wouldn’t dare say something like that to me. I’m not going to stand here and defend myself, because I couldn’t care less what you think about me, other than you have to trust me to do a good job here. You believe what you want about anything else, but I know what I’m doing, and I got my job through hard work and nothing else. You’re stuck working with me and I’m stuck working with you for the next two weeks. We have children to heal and lives to save, and that’s the only thing that’s important to me. So get over yourself and deal with it.”
She swung around and marched to the door. Coffee sloshed from her cup and onto her pink sleeve, trickling to the ground, but she just kept going without another look back.
Daniel blew out a slow breath as he watched the sexy sway of her backside disappear through the door. How had he lost control of that conversation, and why had he let her goad him into verbalizing his questions about why some of the hospital administrators had argued to keep her on?
Normally, he was a man who could hold his thoughts, but there was something about her that got under his skin. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he’d felt so frustrated at her words, and at the same time he’d been mesmerized by her lips as they’d moved, that the comments about her beauty helping her get her job had just fallen out of his mouth, even as he’d known he shouldn’t say anything. Even as he’d spoken, a part of him had wanted to reach for her, grasp her shoulders, and pull her against him. Wanted to drop his mouth to hers to keep her from lambasting him. Wanted to sip the coffee from her lips, experience the taste of her that he knew would be sweeter than the sugar in her drink.
And wouldn’t that have been a giant mistake? What the hell was wrong with him?
He rubbed his hand down his face. The number one priority in dealing with her just became being careful to speak to her, and react to her, with only the utmost professionalism. How ironic would it be for her to lodge a complaint against him about his conduct on this medical mission?
A brisk walk might help him get his equilibrium back. And maybe it was time for him to learn to do a little meditation himself, to purge his brain of any and all peculiar and troubling thoughts about Annabelle Richards.
* * *
Another long day of surgeries left Daniel with an aching back and a sense of satisfaction. The hours spent were worth a little discomfort, since repairing holes in children’s small hearts or addressing hypoplastic left heart syndrome and other critical heart malformations was exactly why he did these missions.
The whole team had worked tirelessly along with him, including Annabelle. He couldn’t deny that she’d shown herself to be a steady hand with the anesthesia, communicating well with the nurses and bringing what he’d learned was her special brand of charm to the young patients. She might not speak very good Spanish but at least she tried, and knew how to deal with their patients in a way that calmed even the most nervous. Her wide smile, and the way she used tiny fairy and superhero dolls as props to leap gently onto their little arms and bodies, distracting them from the medical preparation happening around them, always made them relax and laugh before she got down to the serious business of getting them to sleep for surgery.
Maybe she really had grown as a doctor over the past five years, after the anesthesia resident’s nearly catastrophic error and her mistake of not supervising well enough what the guy was doing. An error that had nearly ended up with their young patient dead. Maybe he wouldn’t have been as angry if the teen hadn’t been having the same surgery Gabriel had died from, or maybe it wouldn’t have made any difference at all. But he had to believe that not a soul alive would blame him for being furious and distraught about a member of his staff nearly losing a child’s life through completely avoidable actions.
It was hard for him to think beyond that upsetting day when it came to Annabelle. Hard to give her the benefit of the doubt now, his chest still constricting at the memory of the chaos as they’d struggled to keep the boy alive. Another teenager, this one under Daniel’s watch, nearly dying. Was he supposed to just look the other way? Forget about it? The boy’s family had no idea how close they’d come to losing him that day, a fate that would have changed their world forever.
Some would say he should move on and give Annabelle another chance since she was older and more experienced now. And maybe they’d be right. But he’d already gotten the wheels greased for him to work with a new doc, and for her to do other, still important, work but at a different clinic, far away from him. He would feel under less stress in the OR here, and patients at the new clinic would get Annabelle’s help facilitating the surgeries they needed. So nothing but good would come from his plan.
“You got this?” he asked the team after the patient’s vital signs were normal and he was satisfied the surgery was a success.
“Yes, Dr. Ferrera,” Annabelle said in a cool, professional voice. “Ready to remove the breathing tube and IVs.”
“Good. I’ll be over at Administration, evaluating tomorrow’s patients, making final decisions about who’s on the list and when.”
Annabelle and the nurses all nodded, focusing on the patient, as they should. Daniel stripped off his gloves and mask and went to the other cement block building that served their bare-bones administration staff and doubled as a waiting room/sleeping room combo. Families with children sat on the folding chairs and sprawled on the floor, many of whom he knew had come from miles away. Patiently waiting to be seen, they slept there or outside on homemade blankets they’d brought with them, along with bags of food, since the clinic could only provide bottled water to drink. They waited to find out if they’d be one of those chosen to get well, or be put on the list for the next time a clinic was run. Some looked deceptively healthy, others were visibly ill. Far too thin, too pale, too quiet and motionless for a child to be.
Daniel’s own heart abnormality had always been hidden behind a facade of good health. He’d played sports, he’d skied, he’d seemed fine in every way. With both their heart functions in reasonably good and manageable conditions, it had been decided that surgery on the identical twins wasn’t worth the risk to either of them. That was, until Gabriel’s heart condition had worsened and he’d ended up needing the surgery that had ultimately killed him.
Daniel hadn’t had to face that.
He knew it was possible that things might change. The hole in his heart that both brothers had been born with, and that medical professionals had always kept an eye on, could get larger and more problematic than the simple arrhythmia he had to deal with sometimes. Living with his heart abnormality was a little like carrying around a ticking bomb. It might never go off. Or it could someday result in endocarditis or sepsis. Stroke. Death.
It meant Daniel lived every day as if it were his last and never committed to a forever. No long-term relationships, no children. He simply couldn’t promise anyone that he’d be here on earth for a long time, and it wouldn’t be fair to put a woman or a family through that kind of uncertainty. Through the possibility of future pain.
Twenty years had passed since his brother had died, and time had dulled the intense grief. He and his parents and grandparents still dealt with the kind of deep pain that came from a sudden, shocking loss. The ache would always be there.
Holding in a deep sigh, he moved his gaze from the throngs of patiently waiting families to the front desk, trying to detach himself by focusing on the list of patients there. He shoved down the ache that came with every mission trip, knowing he couldn’t fix everyone who needed it. Knowing that his decisions about who would get on the surgery lists and who wouldn’t meant more worries for the people who loved them. More kids who couldn’t play in a normal way until their hearts were repaired. More who might die if the tests done before he’d arrived didn’t show how serious their situation really was. More whose families might lose them forever if he made the wrong choice.
“May I have the list of possible patients for tomorrow?” he asked the receptionist. With the long sheet in hand, he moved from family to family, child to child. Reading their charts and talking with them about their symptoms. Listening to their hearts to evaluate murmurs and arrhythmias, and to figure out the best course of action to help them to get better.
Hoping and praying he got it all right.
“I think that’s it for the day,” he said in Spanish to the clinic receptionist, who seemed as worn out as he did, and he knew the whole team had to feel the same way. “I’ll let everyone know we’re done until tomorrow morning.”
“Sí, Dr. Ferrera. I’m sure more folks will arrive by morning, and I’ll try to sort them by health priority before you talk with them after surgery tomorrow.”
“Be sure to let me know if any seem critical, and I’ll look at them between patients to see if they need to be fitted into the rotation as soon as possible.”
She nodded, and Daniel bit back a tired sigh at the thought of more patients to evaluate even before the medical team started surgery in the morning. But that was the whole reason they were here, wasn’t it? To see the maximum number of the most ill children was the name of the game.
When Daniel stepped back inside the cement block building that housed the OR, he was surprised to see Annabelle helping Jennifer and Karina wash out the masks and tracheal tubes they’d used for their patients, sterilizing them, then hanging them to dry. Most docs left that to the nursing staff and local tech assistants, and he watched her lean over to dig out surgical items like sponges and syringes from a box he hadn’t seen before.
“What’s all that stuff in there, and where did it come from?” he asked.
“I brought it.” Annabelle didn’t look up at him, just kept laying out items for tomorrow morning’s surgeries.
“Did your hospital donate it?”
“Dr. Richards started a—”
Annabelle sent Jennifer a deep frown, accompanied by a small shake of her head, that had Jennifer quickly closing her mouth.
What was that all about? He looked from Annabelle to Jennifer, then back to see Annabelle intensely concentrating on sorting the equipment. He couldn’t help but wonder what it was that she clearly didn’t want him to hear, and he would definitely be asking Jennifer later when Annabelle wasn’t around to shush her.
“It’s just a few things. Not as much as we’d like to have, but I didn’t have much room in my suitcase and, of course, I had to bring the useless monitor.”
So she was still angry with him about that. Not that it was any real surprise.
“I never said it was useless. I said we’d functioned without monitors plenty of times in the past, and that missing a whole day of surgeries, then being late with a patient already on the operating table and putting us hugely behind schedule, wasn’t worth the time wasted getting one here.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the strident sound of his words made him feel a little ridiculous. It was history at this point, and the woman had worked hard all day with the rest of the team, with successful outcomes for every patient. He nearly opened his mouth to say something more, maybe a general congratulations and thank-you to the whole team, but the words died at the icy dislike in the look she sent him.
Those pretty lips of hers had thinned, too, but she didn’t respond, which he was fine with as the subject needed to be dropped. “Anyway,” he continued, annoyed that he felt awkward, “I’m told dinner is being held for us at the hotel. Anything I can do to help get things finished up here?”
“We’re fine, Dr. Ferrera. Not much more to do, but you go ahead,” Annabelle said as she hung another washed-out mask on the line.
“I’m not going to eat while you’re all still out here.”
“This is the last bit,” Jennifer said, drying her hands and shooting him a grin. “And I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m pretty much starving.”
“Me, too,” Daniel said, glad that at least she and the other nurse weren’t holding some kind of grudge against him, channeling Annabelle’s obvious dislike. He needed a good working relationship with the surgical team. “Let’s go.”
Normally on these kinds of trips Daniel had dinner with the team then excused himself to be alone. To regroup and relax after a long day of work that was stressful no matter how many years he’d been doing it, knowing children’s lives were literally in his hands. But tonight the jovial mood and banter between the group kept him in his seat. Jennifer and Karina told a number of absurd hospital stories during dinner that had everyone laughing, including Annabelle. Why he found his attention was focused on her more than the storytellers, he wasn’t sure. But as soon as he pondered that, the answer was obvious. Something about her sparkling eyes and infectious smile and pretty face made him smile, too. Drew him to her, whether he liked it or not.
From the moment they’d all started eating he couldn’t help but notice that Annabelle seemed to enjoy her dinner far more than the rest of them. While the food at this hotel wasn’t bad compared to what was often on the menu on mission trips, it hardly qualified as something to lick your lips over. But from the look on Annabelle’s face as she ate every bite on her plate, anyone would have thought it was gourmet fare.
He nearly commented on it, but decided that would probably just make her mad at him all over again. His relationships with women might be of the sweet but short variety but that didn’t mean he wasn’t well aware that most females didn’t appreciate observations about how much food they did or didn’t eat, and whether or not they seemed to be enjoying it.
So he kept his mouth shut, while watching her pretty lips smile as she chewed and her enthusiasm as she poked another bite into her mouth. Enjoying watching her was a big part of the reason he hadn’t retired to his room. Irritated though they’d both been with one another yesterday and this morning, he liked seeing her face relaxed and smiling, to hear the sound of her musical laughter. All that was a lot better than the scowl and cold voice she usually sent his way, though he didn’t understand why he suddenly seemed to care about that.
“How about you, Annabelle?” The question came out of his mouth before he’d known he was going to ask it. “What’s your most memorable mission trip story?”
Her eyes met his, looking surprised that he’d directed a question to her. “Hmm...” she said, tapping her finger against those lush lips. “I guess the craziest thing that ever happened was on one of my trips to Guatemala. The military guides in front of us were stopped, then surrounded, by a bunch of cutthroat-looking guys with all kinds of weapons pointed at them, and us,” she began, and Daniel had to wonder why she was smiling at the retelling of what had to have been a scary situation. He’d been in a few himself, and even now would definitely not have been grinning about them.
“Oh, my heavens,” Jennifer said, wide-eyed as she pressed her hands to her cheeks. “What happened?”
“We were in the SUV behind them, and obviously we were worried. A nurse and I were the only passengers in the car, planning to meet the surgeon at the mission site. We kind of froze, wondering what our guides were going to do, figuring we should stay put. But then the guys came back to our car and gestured for us to get out. Gotta tell you, my knees were shaking! They took us to a house, and we had no idea what was going to happen. Whether they were going to take us in there and just plain shoot us, or do something awful to us, or what.”
Daniel found he was holding his breath, even as he knew this story must have a good outcome or she wouldn’t be smiling like she was.
“And?” Karina asked, obviously as riveted to hear the answer as he felt.
“They opened the door, and before we were even inside, we could hear a woman moaning. The minute we saw her, it was obvious that she was in labor and having some kind of serious problem. In a lot of pain. We ended up doing an emergency C-section on her, delivering the most beautiful twins you’ve ever seen. And they were healthy and fine—such a relief because we weren’t sure what to expect, you know? Then later, when she and the babies were stable, I came back out to tell them everything was okay, that mama and babies were all fine and healthy. They whooped and hollered and hugged me and swung me around until I couldn’t breathe!
“And one man—I never knew for sure, but I assume it was the babies’ father—had tears rolling down his cheeks as he hugged me. It was an incredible feeling to know we’d helped, and that maybe the mother and babies wouldn’t have made it without us. It felt like it was divine intervention that we were traveling there when they needed us, you know? It was the best day of my life.”
“I can’t believe you never told me this before!” Jennifer said. “So they were nice to you, then?”
“Maybe too nice.” Annabelle grinned. “They plied us with rum and beer and all kinds of food, and we ended up staying the night there, partly because we wanted to check on the new mom and babies in the morning and partly because the military guys and our driver had a bit too much for them to handle getting behind the wheel.”
“Wow, now that’s one for the books,” Karina said, laughing.
“Yeah, it was scary, but funny and wonderful, too. If we hadn’t been on the road there at that moment, I think the outcome might have been bad. So it was a truly great night. The best feeling in the world. Then word apparently got around, because on the way to the two clinics we worked on that trip, there were always locals helping us out any way they could, even acting as secondary escorts along with the military. It was awesome to feel appreciated that way, and to know that we’d really made a difference there.”
“When was this?” Karina asked.
“My first mission trip. Four years ago.”
“Your very first one?” Jennifer exclaimed. “I’d imagine having such a scary experience might have made you think twice about going on another one.”
“Life can be pretty scary in the US too. Can’t let it keep you from living.”
Jennifer nodded, and Daniel detected a trace of sympathy aimed at Annabelle as all amusement left both their faces. He figured they must be thinking of some of the violence, especially in big cities, that sent people to the ER no matter where they lived.
She quickly changed the subject to more mundane conversation about the hospitals where she and Jennifer worked, and he only half listened as he thought about Annabelle. Her first mission trip had been only four years ago, and she’d told him...what? That this was her ninth one? That was a lot of vacation time taken for this kind of trip. Most women he knew from both Peru and the US who had the means preferred taking spa vacations or trips to exotic locations. Just as he was about to ask her where else she’d gone on mission trips, and why, his cell phone rang.
He glanced down and nearly cursed when he saw it was the general surgeon from a Lima hospital that he’d asked to open the currently closed clinic near Huancayo for the duration of this trip. Not a conversation he wanted to have in front of everyone.
“Excuse me a moment,” he said, getting up to stride to the hotel door. As he did so, he swore he could feel Annabelle’s blue eyes drilling a hole in his back, but of course that was his imagination.
“Thanks for calling, Eduardo. So, are you able to take a week or so to work in Huancayo?”
“Good timing from this end. I can be there the day after tomorrow, with Alan Velasco coming to do anesthesia with you at your clinic the same day.”
“Glad to hear it. Thanks for making that happen. When I learned that the Huancayo clinic hadn’t been open for over a year, I knew we should get a surgeon up there if at all possible. So I appreciate you going.” And never mind that lack of recent care wasn’t the only reason he’d wanted to get it open for business.
“We Peruvians have to look after our own when we can, right? Alan and I’ll be at your clinic on Tuesday with a nurse who’s agreed to help me, then I’ll take the anesthesiologist you want working with me down to Huancayo.”
Peruvians looked after their own? He knew that wasn’t always true. Those like his own family with education and wealth and privilege were certainly well taken care of. But those living in poverty on the other side of the infamous wall of shame in Lima that had been compared to the Berlin Wall? The deeply poor living in the many remote towns in Peru that the various mission groups were devoted to help? Not so much.
“Thanks again. I’ll let Dr. Richards know she’ll be helping get the clinic open in Huancayo. See you when you get here.”
He should be elated, since this was exactly how he’d hoped it would all turn out. Instead, a small knot formed in his gut as he pondered how to talk to Annabelle about the change of plans. But surely, if he played it right, she’d be happy to be helping patients in a part of the country that hadn’t received medical care or surgeries for a long time. Right?
Daniel shook off his unease and headed back toward the hotel. Whatever he was feeling was ridiculous and made no sense. He’d have a top-notch anesthesiologist working with him on the delicate heart surgeries, and more children and adults with health problems would be seen during the next couple of weeks in Huancayo, where the need was real. Annabelle might never know he’d been the one to get the clinic open but even if she did, she’d probably assume it had come about organically, without any agenda other than having more doctors available to care for more patients. A win for everyone.
The shining halo of Annabelle’s pale blond hair shone through the falling darkness in front of the hotel, just as it had at dawn this morning, spilling to her shoulders in silky waves. His steps slowed as he thought through how he was going to tell her about the change of plans in a way that would make her feel fine about it. Then stopped completely to watch her crouch down to a feral cat, offering it a morsel of food that had it purring and rubbing against her ankles. The sexy roundness of her bottom and hips caught his attention, and the sweet, low sound of her voice crept under his skin.
“Ah, you’re such a little sweetie, aren’t you?” she cooed, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The hotel manager told me not to feed you, so this is just between us, okay? No more meowing out here in the middle of the night. Got it?”
In answer, the cat flopped onto its back, purring even louder, and Annabelle laughed softly as she scratched its belly, an indulgent smile on her face. “I can tell you’re going to get me in trouble. Just so you know, I’m going to swear it wasn’t me giving you treats. We’ll blame Daniel Ferrera instead, but you have to back me up on this.”
“Won’t work,” Daniel said, a smile twitching his lips even as he wanted to ask her why she’d put the blame on him instead of someone else staying in the hotel. “I’m now a witness to your illicit activities.”
Annabelle jumped to her feet, twisting to face him, and her alarmed and guilty expression nearly made him chuckle. “Oh! Dr. Ferrera. Why are you sneaking up on people in the dark like that? You startled me.”
“My apologies. I didn’t realize it could be considered sneaking since I was walking in full view on the designated path to the front door.”
“Well, it’s almost dark and you should have made more noise.”
“So I wouldn’t hear you plotting against me?”
She folded her arms across her chest and stared him down. “If I did plot against you, it would be tit for tat, wouldn’t it? However, I’m not that kind of person.”
“Uh-huh. No way am I going to be the fall guy if a cacophony of meows wakes up the whole hotel.”
“I was just kidding about blaming you. Even though you blamed me for something that wasn’t my fault. Or at least was only partially my fault. But that’s long over with and I’m going to put it behind me. No plotting against you.”
That knocked the smile off his face because, yeah, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say he was plotting against her, given everything he’d orchestrated to get her services transferred to the other clinic.
“Anyway,” she continued in a stiff and professional voice that had him regretting that their light banter was obviously over, “what’s tomorrow’s surgical schedule?”
“Full day again,” he replied. “We need to get going no later than seven to fit them all in, especially since a couple of the diagnostics we were given aren’t very clear. May find some surprises during surgery that will take longer than we expect.”
“That happens about fifty percent of the time anyway,” she said as she slung the small green backpack over her shoulder that she seemed to carry everywhere.
“True.” Now was the time to tell her about the new plans for her upcoming trip to Huancayo, and he hoped she was perfectly fine with it, not figuring there was anything to it other than helping more people. He drew a breath, only to expel it as he watched her move the backpack strap down to the crook of her elbow, her face scrunching up a little with obvious discomfort as she reached to massage her neck and shoulder. “Is your arm hurting you?”
“I don’t want to say.” Her voice was mulish even as she winced. “Especially to you.”
“Why not?”
“What procedure does our first patient need?” she asked, ignoring his question and dropping her hand from her trapezius muscle. “I want to be ready with everything so we stay on schedule and maybe even catch up a little.”
“Four-year-old has coarctation of the aorta, but I suspect we may find more issues during surgery, as the imaging isn’t very good. Tell me why your arm hurts.”
“I took a swing at an arrogant, holier-than-thou doctor in the States just before leaving there. Very satisfying, but I miscalculated the impact on my own body.”
“Uh-huh. I know you wanted to take a swing at me five years ago, maybe even with a long, sharp knife. But since you didn’t, violence doesn’t seem to be your answer to conflict.” He reached to fold her hand into a fist and tapped it against his chin. “However, if you want to punch me now and get it out of your system, go ahead. I can take it.”
A short laugh, then a scowl, before she yanked her hand back. “No, thanks. That would probably just make you happy in some perverse kind of way, and give you another reason to dislike me or get me fired again. Forget it.”
“Then tell me about your shoulder.” He stepped closer and could smell the faint scent of soap from her shower before dinner. “Or let me guess. You don’t want to tell me that you’re in pain because you wrenched it carrying the monitor I criticized you for.”
Surprised blue eyes lifted to his, her pretty lips parting. “I knew you had superpowers in the operating room, but it’s scary to think you have mind reading powers, too.”
“Simple observation and medical skills. But if I did have mind-reading abilities, what would I be learning?”
“That I don’t like you?”
“Something I already know. What else?”
A long pause had him convinced she’d change the subject, or turn and walk back into the hotel, until she finally spoke on a sigh. “That I sometimes bite off more than I can chew, and hate it so much when I do.” A deep frown lowered over her silky eyebrows. “And I’ve paid for this one multiple times, believe me. First with stressing over all the missed flights, then with not being able to get to a meeting in Lima that I really need to make happen. And I’m still not sure how I’m going to be able to get it rescheduled. Then missing the first day of surgery, which I worried about a lot, even though you probably don’t believe that. On top of that, yeah, I wrenched my shoulder trying to carry the monitor to the OR in a hurry. And the worst thing of all? Letting it show so you can smirk at me about it.”
“I would never smirk at you or anyone else who’s in pain. I’m a doctor, for heaven’s sake.” While he knew all the reasons she didn’t like him, he hadn’t realized she thought he was the kind of colossal jerk who would delight in someone’s pain. “Come here and let me see.”
“What?” She jerked back as he stepped close. “No.”
“You can’t function as well in the OR if your shoulder is stiff and painful. And since it’s important for everyone to be at peak performance during surgeries that last for hours, I’m going to give you a deep-tissue massage that should help.”
“I don’t want or need a massage.” Her expression was more alarmed than a simple shoulder massage should have warranted, displaying a vulnerability at odds with her stern words. “It’s fine. Really. And frankly it’s a bad idea for colleagues to go around touching one another, especially when anyone could be watching.”
“Anyone watching would see it as impersonal physiotherapy done in a very public place, right outside the hotel front door. Are you always so stubborn? Or are you worried that I’m coming on to you? I know that probably happens a lot but, believe me, I have no interest in you other than that you do your best tomorrow during the long hours we have to work.”
“An interest in me other than to ruin my career would never cross my mind, Dr. Ferrera. And the feeling is mutual.”
“Good. So quit arguing and turn around.”
CHAPTER THREE (#ue02ea741-c5f4-54a3-8632-0086ee69c912)
WHY SHE ALLOWED him to turn her around, then press his fingers deeply into her shoulder muscles, Annabelle had no idea. But even as she told herself it was weird to do this, that she should just turn to head for the hotel doors and disappear to her room before the man started criticizing her again, she found herself standing stock still instead as she absorbed the feel of his hands.
Lord have mercy. Was this why people spent their hard-earned money to get a massage? She couldn’t believe how incredibly good it felt, as though his palms and fingers were magical instruments, kneading and pressing until the tightly knotted muscles began to loosen. His warm breath skimmed her neck as he worked, and it all felt so wonderful, every other thought in her head disappeared, and all worries along with it. Slowly tipping her head from one side to the other, she nearly moaned with the pleasure of those talented surgeon’s hands firmly moving on her neck and over her shoulders, working their way down to press against her spine.
“Take a deep breath, then blow it out. Then again.”
She obeyed, her eyelids fluttering closed at the sensations, even as a tiny part of her mind managed to ask why she was allowing annoying Daniel Ferrera to give her this amazing massage, professional and impersonal or not.
“Good?” he asked, his voice a low murmur in her ear.
“Mmm... Yes. Good.” That breathy word didn’t begin to cover it, but her brain wasn’t functioning well enough to come up with something else. His cheek almost brushed hers, so close she could practically feel the warmth of it radiating against her skin. Each time she drew breath his delicious scent filled her nose. Just as she was sinking so deeply into the sensory overload that she nearly forgot where she was, he abruptly removed his hands and stepped back.
Nearly swaying at the suddenness of it, she blinked and slowly turned toward him, surprised to see he looked oddly grim instead of satisfied that he’d helped the knots unkink. “Um, thank you. That did help a lot, I have to admit.”
“Good.” He ran that wide hand of his through his hair as he seemed to concentrate on something over her head. She glanced over her shoulder, and when she saw nothing there, turned back to see Daniel, now standing with his hands in his pockets, staring at her. “Listen. I want to talk to you about the phone call I got a little while ago.”
Something about his tone set an alarm clanging in her head, though she couldn’t say exactly why. “What call?”
“There’s a clinic near Huancayo that hasn’t been staffed and ready to see patients in over a year. A surgeon friend of mine wants to open it while we’re here so he can do things like hernia and gallbladder surgeries that are urgently needed by people in the area. He needs an anesthesiologist. I told him you’d probably be fine with going there.”
“I don’t understand. You can’t do surgeries here without me.”
“Alan Velasco, an anesthesiologist friend from Lima that I’ve worked with a number of times before, is going to come here to take your place. So we’ll be able to take care of a lot more patients than we’d originally thought, with both clinics open. Which is good news.”
Cool and impassive was the only way to describe his expression, and there was something peculiar about it. Something that didn’t quite fit with this new opportunity. “When would this happen?”
“Alan said that he and the surgeon, Eduardo Diaz, could be here the day after tomorrow. So, soon.”
Her heart lurched as she pondered how that could possibly work. She absolutely had to get the meeting she’d missed in Lima rescheduled before she went back home. Before the school she wanted to save closed for good and got knocked down by a wrecking ball, which would happen in just two months if she couldn’t pull her plan together in time.
What if the doctor and CEO at the hospital in Lima who were interested in partnering with her wanted her to be there a specific evening after work to hear the details? She needed to be close enough to go running if they found time to squeeze her into their schedules.
About to ask more questions and explain why going to Huancayo might not work for her, she paused to study him. Really looked at his chiseled jaw and handsome features, the deep brown of his eyes that she’d thought were beautiful and mesmerizing when she’d first met him in Philadelphia long ago. Every woman in that hospital had swooned over Dr. Daniel Ferrera. And, yeah, she’d secretly been one of them until she’d learned his amazing attractiveness on the outside was the polar opposite of his personality.
Reading people and their body language, carefully listening to verbal cues and paying attention to their eyes, their expressions, had been an essential survival skill for Annabelle growing up. Studying him now, her antennae went on red alert, telling her something was really off here. She let herself absorb it, think through whatever subtext there might be between the lines of his actual words.
Then the Aha! came like a sledgehammer to her chest. The shock of it, along with the intense burn filling her gut and the heat scorching her head, finally had her seeing right through the jerk.
“You arranged this, didn’t you? You hate working with me so much that you’ve arranged for me to go to the other clinic so you could work with this Alan guy.”
“I don’t hate working with you. I simply saw this as an opportunity to have more patients get the surgeries they need.”
“That is such bull! I’m not stupid, Dr. Ferrera, even though you clearly have always thought I am. You worked all this out, no doubt smug as hell as you did it, convincing yourself it was perfectly fine and somehow win-win because more patients will be seen, no matter how wrong your motivation is.”
“It is a win-win. Alan has a lot of experience with heart surgeries, and you’ll be helping people who need medical procedures and advice near Huancayo. That’s it.”
“That is so not it. Do you spend your life manipulating everyone and everything around you? Always able to convince yourself you’re doing it for your patients, instead of out of some nasty need for complete control?” Shaking now from the top of her head to the soles of her feet, Annabelle jabbed him hard in the sternum, wanting so much to punch him instead, just as he’d offered to let her do earlier. The only time she could remember being this upset and furious had been the last time Daniel had screwed her over.
“You stink as a human being, you know that? You really do. I’m contacting the mission heads about this. If they go along with what you want, which everyone seems to do, I’ll work in Huancayo. But I’m telling you right now that I may have to leave there to get to an extremely important meeting in Lima, which is a lot longer drive from there than from here. Once I have it scheduled, I have to get there, and I don’t care how you feel about that. I’d rather not leave the clinic without an anesthesiologist, but you’re the one creating this situation.”
“Is this much drama really warranted, Dr. Richards? I’d think you’d be glad to not work with me. Less stress for you in the OR,” he drawled. “I’m not creating a situation. I’m getting a clinic open to serve more patients. I thought you’d be as pleased about that as I am.”
“Seeing more patients is always good. But there’s an agenda attached to that, and it has to do with me,” she said between her teeth. “Just so you know, when I contact the mission management, I’m telling them about how you think your surgeon status makes you godlike. But you know what?” Lord, she hated that her voice quivered, making her sound weak. “You’re not a god. You’re not, no matter how much you want to play like you are.”
“I have no illusions of being a god. If I was, my life would be different, believe me.” All cool relaxation left his voice, the harsh planes of his face looking etched from stone. “Maybe it’s past time for you to see that none of this is about you, and never has been. It’s always been about the patients facing death. Facing pain and suffering and lifelong complications. About the people who love them and who are devastated when a surgery goes wrong, or a condition is left untreated. About those left behind having to pick up the pieces of their lives. It always has been, and always will be, and I have to believe you care about them as much as I do.
“I’ll see you in the OR in the morning. Maybe you can get your meeting in Lima scheduled for tomorrow night. Then get your stuff ready so you can go to Huancayo with Dr. Eduardo Diaz when he gets here the day after.”
He swiveled toward the hotel, and Annabelle watched the back of his tall, broad form as he walked, his shoulders stiff, his posture proud. Watched the heavy hotel doors close, leaving behind the smothering cloud of disapproval. Of pity for who she was and convictions about who she could never be. It rolled over her, consumed her, until she couldn’t breathe.
Blindly, she stumbled to the pathway into the woods beside the hotel, sucking in air.
We heard you’re homeless again, Annabelle. Can you tell us how many different schools you’ve attended this year?
Let’s see what clothes are in the office storage closet, Annabelle. We’ll just throw away the ones you’re wearing.
Go to college? That’s just silly, Annabelle. You need to set realistic goals.
She smacked her palms against the rough bark of a wide tree. Rested her forehead against it and gulped air, welcoming the painful prickling against her forehead.
Only one person in her life had believed in her back then. One special high school guidance counselor who had seen past her dirty clothes and face. Noticed how focused she’d been on her studies, how she’d got good grades despite being yanked in and out of different schools every time her mother’s drug-and alcohol-fueled life had got messy, which had been most of the time. She’d learned early that the only way she would survive the hunger, the bad living conditions, being utterly alone when her mother left for weeks on a bender, was to be smarter, work harder than everyone else around her. To read and to dream.
That special counselor had introduced her to a group promoting medicine as a career path for high schoolers to consider. The instant she’d walked into that hospital, met doctors and nurses and technicians, had seen the amazing equipment and felt the busy, pulsing rhythm of the place as it treated people and saved lives, she’d known that becoming a doctor was all she wanted to do.
Everyone had constantly tried to send her in a different direction, warning her it wouldn’t be easy. And it wasn’t. But nothing ever had been. Working two jobs while going to college, then medical school, had been the best years of her life. For the first time, she’d believed all the dreams she’d had over the years could really come true. Had seen her path and run without stopping. Applied for every scholarship she could dig up. Worked hard to get the kinds of grades that added academic scholarships to the needs-based ones. Once she’d finished medical school and moved on to her training residency in Philadelphia, she’d been blessed with the mentorship and support of a few special doctors and administrators there. Wonderful people who’d found extra grant money for her to survive.
Her tough times were history. Behind her. Not who she was now, and not who she’d ever be again.
Except that wasn’t true, was it? A part of her would always be that poor little girl with filthy clothes and dirt on her skin being judged by everyone around her. Being found lacking, pathetic, incapable, no matter how hard she worked to try to prove she could be more than that.
For long moments she let herself wallow in the painful memories. The terrible, negative feelings. The ridicule and doubt. Remember the past that still clung to her shoes, no matter how hard she stomped her feet, or how fast she ran to knock off every embarrassing and ugly thing that proved her status as a misfit. And she prayed that, on top of everything else, Daniel would never know where she’d come from, and who she really was.
She drew in long, deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Using the meditation techniques that had helped her move into a world completely different from the one she’d grown up in. To find the steely determination she’d had to call on her whole life, her resolution that she’d go from being on the lowest rungs of society to someone who helped those still there. After long minutes she stiffened her spine and stood tall.
Dr. Daniel Ferrera was just a nasty bump from her past that she’d had the misfortune to run into again. But she wouldn’t allow him to hurt her, or make her think less of herself. Wouldn’t let him or anyone else make her forget why she was here. Wouldn’t waste another moment thinking about a man who chewed people up and spit them out with the excuse that he was doing it for a good reason.
She had important things to accomplish here, and one of the biggest was getting the hospital school meeting set up. She would do whatever it took to convince them of why they should partner with the Chicago hospital where she worked, and save the school, turning it into a charter school that offered medical career path options to poor, disadvantaged high school kids like she’d been, changing lives for the better in the process. The way her own life had been changed.
Once that was done she’d go to Huancayo and do the best she could there. Focus on the chance to help children and adults with problems that made it harder for them to live comfortably and happily.
It didn’t take a heart surgeon to make a difference in people’s lives. It just took someone with heart, and that was at least one thing she knew for certain she had enough of.
* * *
As much as Daniel tried to keep his interactions with Annabelle completely normal during surgery the next morning and throughout the day, the strain between them hung in the room like a thick cloud.
He’d always prided himself on being tough but fair. But something about Annabelle seemed to bring out an extreme version of his stern and unyielding side. The scowls she’d sent on and off all day made him start to hear it and see it in himself, and he knew that was something he had to fix.
Ultimately, the only thing that mattered was delivering the best care they could all give to each and every patient. Not anyone’s fragile feelings. After all, delicate surgeries weren’t a popularity contest or touchy-feely bonding with medical friends, they were about results.
But part of good patient care was having a cohesive team that worked well together. Something he’d allowed himself to forget when he’d first seen her here, letting his distrust of her overflow into the OR. Five years ago she’d earned his conviction that she shouldn’t be working on these kinds of surgeries, and he stood by what he’d said and done back then. But her work here had been good so far, and he should probably tell her that. Maybe it would make everyone on the team feel less stress in the OR.
One glance at her tight lips and stony expression as she removed the IV lines from their patient told him that fixing, at least a little, the rift between them wasn’t going to be easy. Maybe it was just too late, pointless even, since they wouldn’t be working together much longer.
Daniel drew in a deep breath and shoved away those questions to focus on the patient, checking to make sure all his vital signs were where they should be post-op. “He looks good. Nice job, everyone.” He pulled off his gloves and scrub cap, then rolled his head to relieve the tense kinks after hours of being mostly stationary during surgery, pausing briefly to look at Annabelle out of the corner of his eye as he did. He watched her face soften as she talked to the child and stroked his cheek, helping him awaken, and had to admit to himself again how wonderful her bedside manner was. Something not true of every anesthesiologist. “After he’s in Recovery, we’ll stretch our legs and break for dinner. Then I’d like to get one more in tonight.”
“I’m all for that,” Jennifer said as she cleaned the instruments. “I need a serious bellyful of food first, though. Who’ll be the last patient?”
“A little girl with patent ductus arteriosus,” he replied. “I thought about moving her down the list, maybe seeing her next time because she’s doing all right at the moment, but I figured since it’s going to be a comparatively easy and short surgery we can fit her in for the ligation tonight. What do you say we eat, then get back here in an hour so we can all get a decent night’s sleep afterwards?”
“No arguments from me,” Karina said.
He noticed Karina and Jennifer glanced at Annabelle, both looking a little concerned. Probably wondering if she’d eat with them, since she’d declined to join them at lunch. Maybe they knew as well as he did that it was because she didn’t want to make small talk with him. Since he didn’t particularly want to do that either, he wondered why it had bothered him that she’d eaten alone.
Annabelle didn’t say a word on their trek along the scrubby, rock-strewn path back to the hotel, even though the nurses chatted nonstop. The conversation sounded a little forced, and he had a feeling they were trying to make up for the discomfort hovering in the air.
Daniel couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off Annabelle, noting the way the hair tucked behind her ears was starting to curl, as it always seemed to do around this time of day once she took off her scrub cap. Even this late in the day, the temperature was still in the mideighties, which might be why he was sweating. Or maybe it was because he was trying to figure out what to say to her.
Except her attention seemed utterly focused on the path ahead of them. A focus so intense he couldn’t imagine how she managed to stumble over a stone, but he saw her toe catch just before she plunged headlong toward the rocky path.
His heart gave a jolt and he leaped toward her, shooting out his arm to grab her before she ended up falling flat and hurting herself. His other arm instinctively wrapped around her back as he yanked her upright, pulling her hard against his chest. The feel of her full, soft breasts pressing against him somehow had him folding her even closer as her startled eyes looked up into his. The moment lasted long, breathless seconds and he realized he didn’t want to move.
Her eyes seemed to reflect the same uncertainty he felt until she pulled herself free, nearly stumbling again in her haste to step away. The confusion he’d seen in her gaze morphed into an icy stare that seemed to instantly cool the temperature down about ten degrees. It was the kind of expression that the term if looks could kill was based on.
“You okay?”
“Fine. Thanks.” She took a few more steps away. “Listen, I kind of want to be alone for a while,” she said, directing her comment to Jennifer and Karina. “I’m going to grab some food from the hotel and eat by myself again. See you all back in the OR.”
He watched her hips sway as she hurried ahead of them; how she somehow made scrubs look almost sexy, he didn’t know. Feeling relieved that he wouldn’t have to figure out how to make small talk with her, or endure being shut out and ignored throughout dinner, he realized that, at the same time, disappointment filled his chest that she wouldn’t be at the table with them. Which made zero sense, and he disgustedly shook it off. He’d just have to make time later tonight to talk with her alone and try to clear the air.
“Is something bothering Annabelle?” Karina asked in a low voice.
“Not sure.” Jennifer glanced up at Daniel, and it was pretty clear she knew exactly what was bothering Annabelle. “I think she might be unhappy that the shipment of equipment hasn’t made it here yet.”
“What shipment?” Daniel asked, wondering if there really could be a reason she was unhappy besides her anger at him.
“She has that Med Mission Wishes nonprofit she set up a few years ago, you know? She’s been collecting the newest batch at her hospital for about three months, but for some reason what she wanted sent here hasn’t shown up yet.”
“Med Mission what?”
“Wishes. It might be available where you work, since she’s grown it so much. Bins are set up in hospitals for people to save all the stuff that would normally be thrown away but which can be used in places like this.”
“Such as?”
“Things like tubing and new syringes, airway stuff, outdated surgical tools, all kinds of things. You know how much is thrown out at home, even if it’s brand new and the hospital just has a new vendor or something.” Jennifer gave him a look that said he should know all about this nonprofit. “So she started the organization, and after a while it grew so much she pays someone to run it now. To get it collected and inventoried and warehoused in a building in Chicago. Then medical missions from all over the world buy it by the pound.”
“Ah, I remember you were about to say something about this before, but for some reason Annabelle didn’t want you to.”
“Usually she wants to tell everyone, to get them involved.” Jennifer gave him a pointed look that said she knew all about the issues between the two of them.
“She’s the one who started it?” He wanted to be clear on that, since he just might have to talk with her about it. It was a smart thing to be doing, and they definitely needed to bring it to his hospital in Philadelphia.
“Yeah, she was appalled by the waste when we barely have the minimum of what we need to make these clinics run. Their website shows all the places in the world where Med Mission Wishes materials are used now. I admire her so much, especially considering where she came from. I don’t know a single person working at these medical missions who cares more about the people we serve here. And about all the folks coming to the Chicago free clinics, too.”
“What do you mean, where she came from? Isn’t she from Chicago?”
“Um, yeah. She is.” Jennifer’s expression was suddenly cautious. “Anyway, hopefully the box of stuff will come soon. But if it doesn’t, we’ll have to get by with what she already brought. So, how about that dinner? I’m starved.”
Something about the abrupt way she changed the subject made him wonder why she had. Did Annabelle have secrets about her life that she didn’t want Jennifer to share?
“Me, too. Let’s go,” Karina said.
Suddenly, Daniel didn’t particularly want to eat dinner and make small talk with Jen and Karina any more than Annabelle had. Not when he should take this opportunity to talk with her about his realization that he’d perhaps been tougher on her than he’d needed to be. He wasn’t going to apologize for greasing the wheels for her to go to Huancayo, because he still felt that was a good plan all around.
But he would tell the woman she’d done a good job in the OR the past couple of days, and that he was also impressed with her vision and work on collecting equipment in the United States for these missions. He found himself eager to find out what he needed to do to have his own hospital participate.
“I’m going to find Dr. Richards to make sure she’s okay, and grab something to eat after I talk to her.”
Both women looked at him a little quizzically as they nodded and moved into the small hotel dining room. Probably they’d be gossiping about him and Annabelle and wondering if they’d make up or not.
Daniel moved up the path from the hotel through the trees to find Annabelle. Or at least he assumed she’d be somewhere along there, as it was the only path the goats had trekked enough to make it decent to walk on, with the rest of the hills covered in scrub brush and stones or steep, rocky inclines.
Just as he was wondering if maybe she’d somehow taken another route, he saw her sitting on the ground with her back against a tree, and paused. Her blond head was tipped downward, her hair skimming her cheeks. She took a last bite of whatever she’d been eating then brushed her hands down her chest then across her lap. His gaze became fixated on the slow movement of her hands moving down her chest a second time, molding the curves beneath her scrub shirt, nearly cupping her breasts, and a surprising flood of heat filled Daniel’s body as he pictured his own hands replacing hers.
No, not surprising. He and Annabelle might have their differences, but she was a beautiful woman and he was a warm-blooded man. Of course he found it impossible to not think about how she’d felt in his arms when he’d caught her earlier, those lush curves pressed against his body. To wonder what it would be like to kiss her lips, so soft-looking now compared to how they usually looked when she spoke to him—compressed and irritated.
He found himself wanting to just stand there and watch her, because he knew that all that softness would disappear as soon as she saw him. But he’d come to talk to her about their conflicts and her nonprofit equipment collection, and he needed to make that happen while he had the chance.
His movement toward her must have caught her attention, as she lifted her gaze to his. Sure enough, her pretty lips pinched together and her gorgeous eyes narrowed. As far as she was concerned, he was obviously the enemy, and he didn’t know if there was a way to fix that, considering everything. But he had to try, to make the whole team more comfortable in the OR during the time she was still here.
“Before you go off on me, I have a couple things I want to talk to you about,” he said, lifting his palm to stop whatever angry comment she was clearly ready to fling his way.
“What this time? Have you convinced the mission heads that I’m too incompetent to even work at the other clinic? Thrown your weight around the way you did in Philadelphia? Made a plane reservation for me to go back to the States right this minute, dragging a bad reputation home with me?”
“No, I want to talk to you about your good reputation.”
She folded her arms across her chest and glared. “Yeah, right. This isn’t a cold day in hell, you know.”
In spite of everything, his lips quirked at what a spitfire she was. “Doesn’t need to be a cold day in hell for me to tell you that you’ve done a good job here so far, and that I know you’ll do fine work at the clinic in Huancayo.”
A suspicious stare was her only response, and he forged on, hoping they could at least make a little progress toward having a better working relationship.
“And Jennifer just told me about your Med Mission Wishes organization. It’s a good thing, a valuable thing, and I should have thought of it myself. But since I didn’t, I’d like to find out how I can bring it to my hospital, too.”
“You’re not finding a reason to criticize me for it?” Her eyebrows rose in clear surprise, and there was no mistaking the skeptical look she sent him. “You want your hospital to participate?”
“Of course I wouldn’t criticize you for it. How could I, when it’s a brilliant idea? And you know the size of the hospital where I work, the amount of equipment we’d be able to donate.”
He dropped down onto the dirt and soft plants surrounding the tree to sit next to her. Because his back was tired from standing all day he let himself lean back against it, nearly shoulder to shoulder with her. It felt oddly comfortable, and he was glad she didn’t scoot away. “I want to get your bins set up there, learn about the distribution and where all it goes around the world. How to ensure some of it gets sent here, to the various clinics in Peru.”
“Having your hospital in the loop would be good. I already know you have an obnoxious amount of clout there and think everyone should do your bidding. But in this case it would be helpful.” She tipped her head and seemed to study him, and he found himself mesmerized by the little flecks of green and gold inside the beautiful blue of her eyes.
For what seemed like long seconds they just looked at one another. Apparently, she finally decided he was completely sincere, since the suspicious frown vanished. “All right. After I get home, I’ll send you all the information about how to sign up and how it works, and hopefully the hospital administrators will agree.”
“I’ll make it happen.”
“Always the autocrat.” She rolled her eyes. “But just this once I appreciate that about you. It’s a deal, though you or someone else from the hospital will have to earmark some of it for Peruvian clinics, as that’s done at the local level.”
“I’ll take care of that. Thank you.”
“You thanking me for something,” she murmured, looking up at him as though she genuinely found it incomprehensible. “Now, there’s a shock.”
“I’ve thanked you in the OR. I know I have. You only hear the negative when it’s me speaking.”
“Maybe. And with good reason.”
“Annabelle.” He found himself reaching for her soft hand without thinking, and was surprised she let it stay in his grasp. “I want us to have a good working relationship. Mutual respect is important to a smoothly operating OR, and even though it might irritate you to hear me say it again, a cohesive team is important for surgeries to go as well as possible.”
“I agree. The problem is, you don’t respect me.”
Along with the flash of frustration and indignation in her eyes, was he seeing something like self-doubt? In every one of their interactions, five years ago and here, she’d come out fighting for herself. Was it bravado, hiding some kind of insecurity? Was she not as confident as she seemed?
“I do respect you.” He leaned closer, wanting her to really hear him. “Today I realized that I haven’t given you the praise you deserve. I’ve seen that you’re good at your job and great with patients. It’s just that I need to know with one hundred percent certainty that everyone on a team doing open-heart surgeries is the absolute best. Surely you can understand that, after what happened before, I—”
His phone jangled in his pocket, and he nearly didn’t answer it, wanting to finish this conversation. Impatient, he fished it out and saw a number he didn’t recognize.
“Daniel Ferrera.”
“Dr. Ferrera, it’s Luciana, at the Huancayo clinic. I’m here getting it cleaned up and ready to open. A little while ago I was surprised when a family banged on the door. They heard we were opening and were worried about their eight-month-old. He’s been in respiratory distress, wheezing. Hasn’t been eating well. They thought he had a bad cold and might need some medication. So I listened to the baby’s chest, and I’m positive he’s in congestive heart failure. Luckily, we still have an old echocardiogram machine here, and it showed deep and wide waves. Seems to be ALCAPA.”
“Damn.” If Luciana was right, there was a real risk of sudden cardiac death for the child. “I need to get there. We’ll leave as soon as possible, but it’s at least a three-hour drive. I’ll bring the anesthesiologist we have here. You have the equipment we need?”
“No. There’s nothing here right now.”
“I’ll see what we have that we can bring. Expect us no later than eleven, and be ready to assist.”
“Got it.”
“We need to get to Huancayo tonight?” Annabelle’s question was asked in a matter-of-fact tone. Her angry expression and clear frustration with him was gone, replaced by a calm professionalism, and he had to give her credit for that. For putting work and patients before the emotions that kept flaring up between them.
“Yes.” They both started moving down the path toward the hotel. “The nurse opening the clinic said there’s a baby that needs surgery as soon as possible. We’ll have to take the equipment from here. I’ll do an inventory of what we have, to see if we have any extra that I can leave there.”
“Already done. I took a full inventory the first day I got here, including what I’d brought with me.”
“Good.” He felt a stab of shame at his ongoing doubts about her not being quite good enough at her job for him to feel confident in her. Noting all the equipment available was something usually done by nurses, not the anesthesiologist, not to mention she’d had the foresight to bring more. Then again, being organized in that way was a totally different thing than delivering anesthesia to the sickest patients during long and serious surgeries. “That will save us time, but I can’t imagine it’s enough for both places, is it?”
“Probably not. If only the stuff I shipped had gotten here already.”
“Yeah, that’s unfortunate. But from what you’ve said, it should be here soon, right? So it’ll be good to have on hand here after we get back. With more equipment coming, we can leave whatever we take to Huancayo. And I’ll see what Eduardo can provide when he gets there.” He stopped at the fork in the path. “Let’s start at the OR, getting stuff together, before we pack and take off.”
He shoved open the OR door and snapped on the lights. Annabelle quickly began pulling together the necessary anesthesia items as he gathered the surgical ones.
“Dare I suggest we take the monitor, or will you have another fit about it?” Annabelle asked.
“I don’t have fits. You make me sound childish.”
“Well, you know the saying, if the shoe fits...”
The little smirk she sent him took any sting from the words and he couldn’t help but grin back. “A part of me doesn’t want to see you gloat, but the mature part of me says to take the monitor. If it’s really ALCAPA, it’ll be a long, tricky surgery.”
“Acknowledgement that it’s handy to have is all I wanted to hear, Dr. Ferrera.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to say she still should have shipped it instead of being so late because of it, but hadn’t he decided to stop being so rigid and critical with her? So he kept his mouth shut and concentrated on making sure he had all the surgical supplies he’d need. He and Annabelle packed things so efficiently together he couldn’t help but think they were like a well-oiled machine, and neither interrupted their work even when the door swung open again.
“You guys are back fast,” Jennifer said, walking in with a big box in her arms. “Good news! Your package came, Annabelle. I’ll go through it tomorrow to see what all’s in here.”
“Can you do it now? We have an emergency surgery in Huancayo, and it would help to see what we can leave up there.”
“No problem. What should I tell the little girl and her family who were expecting her to get treatment tonight?” Jennifer asked.
Before Daniel could say anything Annabelle briskly and efficiently went through her mental roster of the next morning’s surgeries and suggested the best way to fit the young patient in. He couldn’t blame her for the look of triumph there, the slow curving of her mouth. “See, Dr. Ferrera? I’m not worthless at all. Maybe you’ll actually come to appreciate me.”
“Never said you were worthless, and as for appreciating you? It might surprise you to hear that just might be happening already.”
CHAPTER FOUR (#ue02ea741-c5f4-54a3-8632-0086ee69c912)
“THE CLINIC IS right around this next curve,” Daniel said, turning to Annabelle with a slightly tired smile. “I think we made good time.”
“Probably because you drove like a maniac. It’s a wonder I didn’t have a heart attack and need a cardiologist. Good thing there was one close by.”
A soft laugh left his lips, his eyes gleaming at her through the dark interior of the car, and she found herself staring at how much younger and more handsome he looked when he was relaxed and away from the OR. At least for the moment.
“I’d have let you drive except for that whole controlling streak of mine you’ve already noted.”
“And I’d have declined anyway, since I’m sure you’re the worst backseat driver in the whole world.”
Again, he laughed, and she had to quickly turn away from the unexpected charm of his smile. The same way she had the past three hours of semi-torture, sitting way too closely to the man who utterly confused her. One minute he was being a total jerk toward her, then the next he was sitting snugged up next to her against that tree and holding her hand in his large grasp. Sending a smile her way that was so sexy and attractive she’d nearly forgotten how much she disliked him.
All through the drive it had been a huge effort to not frequently glance over at his handsome profile. At his firm jaw and nicely shaped mouth. To not think far too much about how large and masculine he was. To not make too big a deal out of the seemingly sincere admiration in his warm, dark eyes as he’d looked at her beneath that tree and told her she was doing a good job and that he respected her.
Because, yeah, he’d then quickly followed that praise with a statement about needing the best anesthesiologist for difficult heart surgeries, and he clearly still didn’t believe she was that person.
The friendly banter on this car ride, completely different from the friction in all their exchanges before this, had thrown her off guard, making her see him in a way she didn’t want to. Her completely unexpected and unwelcome feelings of attraction to the man were a whole lot of stupid for a whole lot of reasons, and she wouldn’t let herself think about his sex appeal for one more second.
The car growled to a stop, and she was more than glad to have something else to focus on in the darkness of the night, when his shadowed shape next to her had been the only thing she’d been able to see and think about, the scent of him filling her nose the way it had earlier that evening.
She peered at the building in front of them, very similar to the one in Ayllu that she’d always worked in on her trips to Peru. The one she’d never dreamed Daniel Ferrera would end up working in, too. This one, though, looked a little more worn and neglected. Faded green paint peeled from the cement walls, exposed by a single, dangling bulb of light above the front step. Scrubby plants and weeds grew all around its perimeter, and the door was slightly off-kilter on its hinges.
“Looks like the front door doesn’t really close,” she said. “Not a good thing when it comes to keeping the space as sterile as possible.”
“Not a good thing for keeping creatures out either.” Another one of those smiles that made her ridiculous heart inexplicably flutter.
“Very true.” She reached for her seat belt, more than happy to get out of the car and away from the close proximity to Daniel. “I’d been congratulating your home country at the miles and miles of completely paved roads we drove on to get to Huancayo. Then we hit that last however many miles of dirt and rocks outside the city to get up here, and I’m pretty sure it might have jarred one of my teeth loose.”
“Don’t worry. I could probably perform emergency oral surgery if I absolutely had to.”
That startled a laugh out of her. “Thanks, but, no, thanks. I’d eat through a straw for the rest of my life before I’d submit to something so terrifying.”
“Smart woman.” Daniel sent her another quick grin before he pulled the monitor and oxygen tank from the back of the car, and it struck her that the past hours had been the first time she’d seen a smile on his face quite like that. Laid-back and friendly and genuinely amused. “Not to mention that we have a different kind of surgery to get to ASAP. Luciana said the child is inside, prepped and ready to go, so let’s get to it.”
Grabbing the rest of the items they’d brought for the surgery, including the cooler of blood bags, Annabelle followed him. She was determined to keep the conversation either light, like the tooth comment, professional, talking about how they would approach diagnosing the child’s problem to ensure they got it right, or nonexistent. Keeping somewhat of a distance between them and forgetting all about her sudden, peculiar attraction to the man.
His good looks couldn’t erase their former animosity, and certainly didn’t replace his ongoing doubts about her skills. Sure, he’d said he was finally coming to respect her more, but it had been too little too late, as far as she was concerned.
No, she’d shake off whatever it was that was making her feel so weird and just be glad they were forming a better working relationship. Because taking the best care of patients they possibly could was their whole purpose for being here.
Once inside the door, Annabelle tried to adjust her eyes to the space, lit just slightly by a small table lamp. Obviously, it was a small entryway that probably served as the greeting room for patients and families, the way the bigger space at the other clinic did. A wooden desk sat in front of a row of folding chairs, and the room had an antiseptic soap smell to it.
“Luciana’s obviously been at work cleaning this place up, probably with the help of locals. Last time I came, I was with the first crew to arrive and it was quite a battle to sweep out all the cobwebs and dust, along with a nest of baby opossums and their mother, who was not happy to have her family disturbed.”
“Is that what you meant by creatures coming in? Good heavens. Where were they?” That the man had actually helped clean this place and chase out marsupials was a surprise. She’d always viewed him as a guy who thought of himself as the holier-than-thou king of the OR, and not someone who would pitch in with that kind of grunt work.
“In a mostly empty supply box in the back. Got to admit, the tiny ones were cute, though the mother looked like a huge gray rat, with some seriously sharp-looking teeth.”
Annabelle couldn’t help an involuntary shudder. She’d never seen an opossum in real life, but she’d seen more rats than she cared to remember. Lying awake at night, wondering if one would jump onto her bed and run across her, was one of her least favorite childhood memories.
“Um, not to be a wimp, but I don’t think I’d be good at rounding up wildlife. I’d prefer scrubbing the floors on my hands and knees any day.”
“Doesn’t look like either one of us will have to work on our hands and knees tonight, which is a very good thing.”
She saw his gaze slide down her body and stop at her derriere, and his expression had a teasing quality to it, a little glint even, that took her by surprise and inexplicably made her heart start beating a little faster.
Stupid heart.
“Dr. Ferrera?” A small, dark-haired woman appeared in the doorway from the back room, and Daniel stepped toward her.
“Hi, Luciana. Nice to see you—it’s been a long time. Thanks for seeing the child and getting this place ready. Is our patient in the back?”
“Yes, and his parents, too. How about you speak with them, then I’ll send them home during the surgery?”
“Do they live close?”
“In town, so not too far. Since the surgery will take many hours, I told them they’d be more comfortable there. They didn’t want to agree at first, which I understand. Perhaps you can reassure them that it’s better if they go home and get some rest? That we’ll contact them when it’s over?”
He nodded before turning to Annabelle to introduce the two of them. From that moment on he was all business, moving into the back room to talk with the parents, who looked like they couldn’t be older than twenty or so. Clearly worried, they also looked intimidated, standing to talk to Daniel when he approached them. Annabelle couldn’t understand very much of what he said to them, but whatever it was had their faces relaxing slightly, their unsure expressions turning to gratitude as they both shook his hand.
Annabelle worked to get the equipment out and set up while Daniel looked at the EKG that Luciana had done, then examined the fussy baby. For long minutes he carefully listened to the child’s heart and lungs with his stethoscope, his brows lowered in deep concentration.
“Definitely heart failure,” he said, his gaze meeting hers. “Good thing we came. Thanks for being willing.”
“No thanks necessary. You know that.”
But it warmed her heart a little to be thanked anyway, silly as that was. Didn’t people thank one another all the time, barely noticing it? Lord, had the man made her become all needy for a little praise? Surely she wasn’t that pathetic.
Daniel listened to the infant’s chest again, and even from several feet away she could hear the wheeze as he cried. Maybe the baby would have lived quite a while with congestive heart failure, but it was more likely that he wouldn’t have. And that’s why they did these missions, wasn’t it? To save lives.
Finally, Daniel pulled his stethoscope from his ears and raised his head to look at Annabelle again. “I don’t think there’s any doubt it’s anomalous left coronary artery from the pulmonary artery. Good call, Luciana. In an ideal world we’d do more testing, but we have no choice but to open him up and see what we find, then get it fixed.”
“Ready with the gases and IVs, Doctor,” Annabelle said.
He gave her a nod then shocked her with another knee-weakening smile—had he ever smiled even once in the OR at the other clinic at any of the team? She was pretty sure she would have remembered if he had. Then again, for some reason his lips and jawline and those warm brown eyes were attracting her attention in a whole new way. Something she absolutely had to squelch.
Annabelle sucked in a meditative breath as he turned away to speak to the parents again, his voice a calming rumble. More hand shaking, then the couple were gone, leaving the three of them to scrub, gown and finish prepping the space.
“Do you know this family, Luciana?”
“I didn’t know them, but I do know the baby’s grandmother. She goes to my church, and I’d posted there about the clinic opening in a few days, which is why they came up.”
“Sounds like it was all meant to be that we’re here doing this tonight. You two ready?”
Luciana nodded, and Annabelle placed the mask over the baby’s nose and mouth. Once he was asleep, she put the IV lines into his tiny arms and legs, and the central line into his neck. After carefully checking his vitals, she nodded at Daniel. “All set.”
Together, they all did their jobs meticulously, with Daniel exposing the baby’s small heart and beginning the intricate surgery with steady hands, Luciana assisting. “Looks like he already has some tissue death from lack of oxygen, poor little guy. But we’ll get him fixed up, as close to perfect as we possibly can.”
* * *
Long past midnight and hours into the surgery, Annabelle quelled a big yawn, wishing she had a giant cup of coffee. She blinked hard, briefly moving her attention from the baby’s vital signs to look at Daniel’s intense eyes above his surgical mask. No sign of fatigue there, just an impressive, unwavering focus.
She’d participated in many delicate and skilled surgeries, though most had been more like what they’d been doing in Ayllu, and not quite as complicated as this. And every single time she felt awed by the steady hands, the years of training it took to perform such detailed work.
She loved her job but honestly couldn’t imagine doing what the cardiac surgeons did day in and day out. A special breed of doctor, for sure.
He literally held this baby’s life in his hands. She did too, but it was different. Administering then carefully monitoring the anesthesia throughout surgery kept the child safe and made the procedure possible. But to be able to restructure a tiny heart so it could function normally?
Truly amazing.
He’d talked about a surgical team needing to respect one another and the admiration she felt for him at that moment welled up in her chest as she watched him work. As it did, a revelation struck her right between the eyes.
For the first time she fully understood Daniel’s perspective from five years ago.
She’d made a huge mistake, there was no doubt about that. And if he, or any other surgeon, didn’t feel confident that someone on their team was capable enough, the life they were responsible for could be lost. What had happened back then might have technically been partly her resident’s fault, as well as her own. But when it came right down to it, the buck had stopped with her, the same way it did for a talented surgeon like Daniel.
He’d said that sometimes patients didn’t get second chances. That horrible day, theirs nearly hadn’t. And maybe that really did mean he’d been right. That she hadn’t deserved a second chance either.
Still absorbing all that and letting it sink into her brain, she pulled her attention from the fierce focus on his face. When she looked at the baby’s vital signs again, she sat straighter and stared.
“Doctor, your blood loss is ahead of where it needs to be.”
“Okay. Working on it.” He nodded, keeping his intent attention on his work.
Her throat tightened as she glanced at the blood-pressure monitor again, not liking one bit the continued drop in pressure. Not only did they clearly need more blood to compensate, they might need even more than she’d originally thought. Thank God she’d brought a good supply.
She hurried to retrieve a bag from the blood box, along with a second bag so it would be ready to hang if the first one didn’t do the trick. Trying to work as fast as possible without making a hasty mistake, she got the first bag attached and released more blood and medicine into the child’s IV lines.
“I’m having some trouble controlling the bleeding,” Daniel said. “Hang another five hundred cc of blood.”
“Just did. I have another one here ready to go. I’m pushing some meds to help.”
For a split second his brown gaze lifted to hers, before he gave her a short, nodding salute.
“I’m going to need it. Wait just a couple minutes then go ahead and hang the second bag.”
“Will do.”
Relieved that the baby’s blood pressure had normalized but still keeping a careful watch, the surgery took one hundred percent of Annabelle’s focus. Two more hours passed until finally Daniel had the wound closed and secured, with Luciana helping to finish the bandaging. When they were ready, Annabelle removed the IV lines and slowly awakened the infant.
Daniel snapped off his gloves and pulled down his mask. The slow, deliberate way he lifted off his scrub cap showed he felt as dead tired as Annabelle did, which was hardly a surprise since it was almost 4:00 a.m. Despite the lines and shadows etched around his eyes, their brown depths looked elated as his gaze met hers for a long moment before turning to the nurse. “We did it, ladies. Luciana, great job assisting. Where have you worked?”
“I’ve been a surgical assistant at two different hospitals in Lima for a long time. But Huancayo is my hometown, so I was happy to come here to help get the clinic open again.”
“Is there another nurse who can come here tomorrow to help care for him post-op?”
“I don’t know. I’ll see if I can find someone, but I’ll take care of him if I can’t.”
“I’ll also talk to Eduardo to see if he has anybody. There’s no way you can take care of this little guy and deal with more patients all by yourself once the clinic is open. Not to mention you’re going to need some sleep.”
“All of us do,” Luciana said with a tired grin. “But for tonight I’ll stay here with him.”
“No, we’ll stay. Or I will, at least,” Daniel said. “Do you have a place close by you can sleep?”
“I have relatives here, and have been staying with my mama since I arrived. I want to thank you both again for coming so fast. For being here at all. The little one might not have lived long if you hadn’t decided to open the clinic. It’s been closed for such a long time. I can tell you the people here appreciate it more than you can imagine.”
Daniel’s eyes met Annabelle’s for a long moment, and she saw they were lit with emotions. Satisfaction. Appreciation. And a slight smugness that told her that he was remembering what he’d said to her when she’d been so angry about being sent off to this place to work. That when her time here was finished, she’d be glad to have taken care of the patients in need, and whether she did it at the other clinic or here didn’t matter.
And, yeah, she couldn’t deny she was glad.
“I need to call the parents. Do you have their number?”
Luciana recited it, and Daniel went into the other room to speak to them. Annabelle could hear his low, lilting Spanish and let herself enjoy the cadence of it, the warmth she hadn’t noticed enough before.
She and Luciana again checked the baby’s IV lines, oxygen, breathing and other vital signs, before finally stepping back and smiling at one another.
“Not out of the woods yet, but he seems to be doing really well,” Annabelle said. “He’ll have to be carefully monitored, of course, and I feel like we should stay part of the day tomorrow to help you.”
“I know you have surgeries scheduled at the other clinic, but a little time here would be good. But didn’t Dr. Ferrera say you were going to be here to work with Dr. Diaz at some point anyway?”
“I assume that’s still the plan, but we’ll see.” Maybe a certain arrogant and extremely talented surgeon was finally ready to acknowledge that she knew what she was doing, even during the most intricate surgeries.
On the other hand, maybe she should ask to come here after all. The peculiar feelings rolling around in her tummy whenever she looked at Daniel might mean working with Dr. Diaz would be a good idea.
“I told the parents there was no need for them to come back right now, that sometime in the morning would be fine as he’ll be sedated for quite a while,” Daniel said as he came back into the room. It seemed he was talking to both of them, but his eyes were on Annabelle.
“Isn’t it already morning?” Annabelle joked, trying to cover up the way her heart pitter-pattered at the way he was looking at her. Or how she imagined he might be looking at her. In a way she shouldn’t want him to be looking at her.
Or maybe she could, but for very good reasons she absolutely wasn’t going to go there if he was.
One side of Daniel’s mouth tipped up as he glanced at his watch. “Definitely morning. Just a couple of hours earlier than your usual wake-up time, Dr. Richards. Maybe not too early for some yoga to get you mentally centered for the day?”
“Only if you join me. I’ll teach you some moves that’ll help you with that grouchy controlling streak of yours.”
“Moves?”
“Yoga moves,” she hastily supplied, her face heating at the way the other side of his lips curved at the same time one eyebrow rose. Who would ever have thought the grim and ultraserious Dr Ferrara would make a quip like that? “A few of my favorite asana poses, then we’ll end with the corpse pose to relax you.”
“Corpse pose? What doctor dealing with life and death would want to do that?” He stepped closer. “Isn’t there any yoga that would energize me? Because that’s what I need right now.”
Annabelle’s stomach quivered at the teasing glint in his eyes. What in the world was happening here? Had she fallen into some alternate universe where Daniel was like a normal man and not the intense perfectionist who was always so serious?
Luciana looked from one of them to the other, obvious confusion on her face. “You wish to do yoga? I have some extra blankets in the back if you want to put them on the floor.”
“No, no, Dr. Ferrera and I are just kidding. Probably. We’re both half-delirious from lack of sleep.”
“Yes, we all need a little sleep,” Luciana said, smiling again. “There is just the one bed here, with clean sheets I put on today. Dr. Richards, you are welcome to come home with me. My mother’s house is small, but we will be honored to have you take the bedroom.”
Thinking about the last few minutes of strangeness, Annabelle had barely listened to what Luciana had said. Until the words one bed finally seeped into her brain, making it stumble in panic. No way was she sleeping in a bed with Daniel!
But she wasn’t going to take Luciana’s only bedroom either, and trying to get checked into a hotel room in Huancayo at 4:00 a.m. didn’t seem too appealing or practical as a third option.
“Thank you so much for the kind offer but Dr. Ferrera and I will figure out the sleeping arrangement here. Don’t worry about us.” Though suddenly she was worrying plenty. “I guess we’ll see you sometime tomorrow?”
“I just need a few hours’ sleep to feel alert enough to care for the bambino. When did you say Dr. Diaz is coming here?”
“I need to double-check to see how long he thinks the travel will take,” Daniel said, his expression now impassive. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
“Adios, then. See you about nine o’clock.”
“Give yourself until ten. Still not enough sleep, but we have a pretty big patient load back at Ayllu, and we’re already behind so we’ll all have to work a little tired.”
“Of course. Thank you again. Buenas noches.”
With Luciana gone, the room seemed to shrink to the size of a broom closet, the sound of the baby’s oxygen machine loud and rhythmic. Daniel’s eyes met hers with a magnetic pull so intense she nearly swayed forward.
“We need to get a little sleep while the baby’s sedated,” he said, stuffing his hands in his scrubs pockets. “The monitor will wake us up if something changes in his vital signs.”
“The monitor you yelled at me about.” She wanted to get back to their usual status quo. Sparks flying from arguing instead of sparks caused by something else entirely.
“I never yell. I simply pointed out that we’ve done more surgeries than I can count without one here.” His lips curved in a slow smile that was so not status quo. Darn it. “But since you refuse to let the subject drop, I’ll admit it. I’m glad we have it here, and it’s been useful at the other clinic, too. You were smart to bring it.”
She dramatically slapped her hand to her forehead, partly to hide the surprised little glow his words put in her chest. “I feel a little faint. Did you say I did something right, and that you were wrong?”
“Saying it’s good we have it doesn’t mean I was wrong.”
“Of course not. Because you’re never wrong.”
His smile widened at the sound of disgust that came from her lips with her retort. “Rarely wrong. But there is one thing I was wrong about. You are an excellent anesthesiologist, and more than capable of taking care of the sickest patients during the longest surgeries. I’m impressed you caught the blood loss problem tonight, and instantly took care of it before I had to say something. So I apologize that I told you that I didn’t believe you were competent enough to be a heart surgeon’s anesthesiologist.”
All humor and discomfort and the sarcasm she’d been giving him disappeared. Her mouth dropped open slightly and she held up her hand, catching her breath before she could finally speak. “Wait a minute. So you’re saying that if you had it to do over again, you wouldn’t have kept me from getting the position I wanted in Philadelphia?”
“I did what I thought was right with the information I had at the time, which was that you’d made a critical error in the middle of a serious surgery. Something you can’t deny. So how did that happen?”
She looked down, not wanting to remember. Not wanting him to know any more of the details than he already did. After a long moment she forced herself to look into his eyes, steeling herself for what she’d see there. “You know it was my first month as an attending physician, wanting more than anything to get a permanent position at such an amazing hospital. It does so much good for every class of people, rich or poor, you know? It was my dream to work there. I...I wanted so much to prove myself. To impress everyone.”
She paused, swallowing down the pain of that terrible day. The deep disappointment in herself that she still felt all this time later. The horrifying proof that all the people who’d told her she’d never be good enough to become a doctor had been right.
He must have seen something of what she was feeling as he reached out to soothingly rub one hand up and down her arm as he spoke quietly. “Go on.”
“You might remember that they’d placed an anesthesia resident with me that day, and I felt I needed to give him an opportunity to actually make decisions instead of just watch or follow directions, the same way one or two attendings had done for me.”
“I barely remember the resident. Probably because I was concentrating on the surgery. But it’s also possible that I’d only noticed the beautiful new anesthesiologist who I knew had silky blond hair tucked under her cap, captivating blue eyes, and a body any man could easily get sidetracked by.”
“You noticed me?” she whispered, finding that incomprehensible. The thought made her heart beat hard in her chest. The anger she’d carried at him for all these years had pushed down the attraction she’d felt, too. Had tried to make her forget how often she’d caught herself staring at the tall, dark, cardiac surgeon with the muscular build tugging at his scrubs. Intrigued by the contrast between the all-business and often sharp man performing such detailed surgeries and the gentle doctor who’d appeared before and after when he’d spoken to his small patients and their families.
“Noticed you. Was attracted to you. Wanted to know more about you.” He closed the gap between them and took both her shoulders in his hands. “So you wanted to give the resident a chance to make some decisions. But I know it was you who administered the epinephrine.”
Briefly, she closed her eyes, hating to remember the biggest mistake of her career. A mistake that had nearly resulted in their patient dying. “Yes, it was me. I administered it. The resident gave me the wrong information and drew the wrong dose before handing it to me. I should have been paying closer attention, but stupidly I didn’t double-check. Didn’t see that he had it wrong. Until the child went into cardiac arrest, and through the flurry and panic you saved his life.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And in my anger toward myself, which I later projected toward you, I’ve never given you credit for that. So thank you for saving him. I can’t even imagine how it would have felt if you hadn’t.”
“Annabelle.” He squeezed her shoulders. “It was thanks to the whole team that we brought him back.”
Here he was, giving everyone credit when she’d been standing right there to see it had been his command of the situation that had brought the child back. That the way he’d immediately and expertly reacted, barking out orders to everyone, as he’d literally held the child’s heart in his hand and carefully massaged it to get it beating again had been the reason the child had made it. Thinking about her failure to monitor the resident and double-check the dose the way she should have made her feel sick all over again. Made her fall into the deep well of inadequacy she’d felt her whole life. That she’d fought so hard to climb out of to become the best doctor she possibly could be.
“It was my mistake,” she said looking into his eyes, her stomach knotting, knowing she’d see disdain there again. The condemnation she deserved. “My screw-up. The resident was my responsibility as much as the patient was. But I didn’t want anyone to know that, after all my hard work, I still wasn’t good enough. I...I did make myself admit it to the hospital administrators and senior anesthesiologist, hoping to get to stay on. To have one more chance to prove myself. I just never admitted it to you.”
Unexpected and very unwelcome tears stung her eyes, and she tried to swing away, hating to show that kind of weakness. She never cried. Had learned not to cry from the time she’d been little, because it just made people around you impatient or angry, and it never accomplished one thing other than to make your throat hurt and your nose run.
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Robin Gianna
Karin Baine
About the Authors (#ue02ea741-c5f4-54a3-8632-0086ee69c912)
After completing a degree in journalism, then working in advertising and mothering her kids, ROBIN GIANNA had what she calls her ‘awakening’. She decided she wanted to write the romance novels she’d loved since her teens, and now enjoys pushing her characters towards their own happily-ever-afters. When she’s not writing Robin fills her life with a happily messy kitchen, a needy garden, a wonderful husband, three great kids, a drooling bulldog and one grouchy Siamese cat.
KARIN BAINE lives in Northern Ireland with her husband, two sons and her out-of-control notebook collection. Her mother and her grandmother’s vast collection of books inspired her love of reading and her dream of becoming a Mills & Boon author. Now she can tell people she has a proper job! You can follow Karin on Twitter, @karinbaine1 (https://twitter.com/@karinbaine1), or visit her website for the latest news—karinbaine.com (http://www.karinbaine.com).
Also By Robin Gianna
Changed by His Son’s Smile
The Last Temptation of Dr Dalton
Flirting with Dr Off-Limits
It Happened in Paris…
Her Greek Doctor’s Proposal
Her Christmas Baby Bump
The Prince and the Midwife
Reunited with His Runaway Bride
Baby Surprise for the Doctor Prince
The Spanish Duke’s Holiday Proposal
Also By Karin Baine
French Fling to Forever
A Kiss to Change Her Life
The Doctor’s Forbidden Fling
The Courage to Love Her Army Doc
Falling for the Foster Mum
Reforming the Playboy
Their Mistletoe Baby
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Tempted by the Brooding Surgeon/From Fling to Wedding Ring
Tempted by the Brooding Surgeon
Robin Gianna
From Fling to Wedding Ring
Karin Baine
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09574-7
TEMPTED BY THE BROODING SURGEON/FROM FLING TO WEDDING RING
Tempted by the Brooding Surgeon © 2018 Robin Gianakopoulos From Fling to Wedding Ring © 2018 Karin Baine
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Table of Contents
Cover (#ueec285a6-dd65-5a22-b10b-16ed23085c46)
About the Authors (#u81801cc3-9ad9-5562-b1df-396edbe95309)
Booklist (#u97e8caaa-90ca-5c58-92c8-6f2a1626300d)
Title Page (#ubeed50ea-f408-5d94-b6d3-62e4b2264a24)
Copyright (#u0c237c3b-466f-5d86-9b4d-1530407d82e6)
Tempted by the Brooding Surgeon (#u0c9c44ee-85a7-52d6-97a4-db0d1ab0f7e7)
Back Cover Text (#u0f3c9876-d215-57ef-bf82-becefc6f2378)
Dedication (#u1d69aa1c-f4e1-5d15-bbc6-b19485757ef9)
CHAPTER ONE (#u7969c27f-155b-5bdc-9d48-4e541e454d68)
CHAPTER TWO (#u9b4eed9d-118b-5705-b0f1-dd3135ff3b36)
CHAPTER THREE (#ue349bc2f-d6f6-54d0-bc8a-42e6d7e5a46a)
CHAPTER FOUR (#ucd61b89f-505e-5777-a0f9-e83c5f6e5d7a)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ELEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWELVE (#litres_trial_promo)
From Fling to Wedding Ring (#litres_trial_promo)
Back Cover Text (#litres_trial_promo)
Dedication (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TWO (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER THREE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOUR (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FIVE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SIX (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER SEVEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER EIGHT (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER NINE (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER TEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
Tempted by the Brooding Surgeon (#ue02ea741-c5f4-54a3-8632-0086ee69c912)
Robin Gianna
The one man who won’t let her in...
...is the only man she wants!
Annabelle Richards arrives in Peru to find she’ll be working with renowned surgeon Daniel Ferrera—the man who almost ruined her career! She’s worked too hard to let him get in her way again. But when Annabelle learns that Daniel’s brooding exterior hides a wealth of pain, an unexpected passion ignites between them. Will temptation prove too much to resist?
I’d like to thank Julie Niezgoda, MD, for her tremendous help as I learned about the medical missions she’s participated in. She gave me heaps of helpful details about what’s involved in paediatric anaesthesia and surgeries on those missions, which are often done with much less equipment than modern hospitals provide.
Appreciate it so much, Julie!
Smooches! xoxo
CHAPTER ONE (#ue02ea741-c5f4-54a3-8632-0086ee69c912)
WHAT CAN GO wrong will go wrong.
Annabelle Richards had no idea who’d said that first but, boy, they sure were right. What should have been a ten-hour flight from Chicago to Lima, Peru, then another hour and a half travel to the mission hospital, had turned into a forty-eight-hour delay. She was finally in the back of a taxi, dead tired from lack of sleep and running late for what should have been the second day of her posting at the hospital but was now day one because of her delays. She was scheduled to start at 8:00 a.m. Just seven minutes away.
She leaned forward to ask the taxi driver the same question she’d already asked a dozen times. “Are we close?”
“Sí. Soon, señorita. Short minutes more.”
Annabelle tried to relax back into the vinyl seat of the dusty cab, but the tightness in her gut kept her sitting upright. The entire surgical team was likely already annoyed, her lateness interrupting their carefully designed schedule and putting everyone behind on attending to all the patients they’d hoped to see. She could only pray that the first surgery scheduled this morning wasn’t something life-threatening.
What if someone died because she wasn’t there in time to get them anesthetized and intubated? What if one of their small patients had gotten sicker yesterday while they’d waited for her, making today’s surgeries even more serious?
How had everything gone so wrong all at the same time?
First, the transport monitor she’d worked months to have donated for this trip had gotten locked into a storage room that no one had seemed to have the key for. A frantic hour had gone by before she’d finally retrieved it, then torn to the airport, panicking that she’d miss her flight. Which, of course, she had. Then weather delays and missed connections added to the disaster.
Looking back, it was all her own stupid fault for being so determined to bring the monitor, instead of having it shipped. Except the whole reason she’d waited around to get it was because the last time she was here, a tiny premature baby had almost died without a monitor to check his heart rate and other vital signs.
She could only hope that missing a day of surgeries because of it hadn’t resulted in a child dying anyway.
She scrubbed her hands down her cheeks, her nerves practically screaming with the need to finally get to the clinic. Being physically there and on time was more important than equipment any day.
Hadn’t she been told more than once that her dog-with-a-bone determination got her into trouble sometimes? This sure was one of those times, and the trouble just kept coming. The huge delay had meant she’d also missed her meeting at the hospital in Lima. A beyond important meeting that might have saved her old school from being shut down in a matter of months. And now her dream to turn the school into a medical training facility for impoverished youths just might be doomed to failure.
Annabelle stared out the window at the passing landscape, wanting to distract herself before she went further into a panic spiral. The gorgeous, deep blue ocean and white sand beaches on one side below the road were in starkly colorful contrast to the green and brown mountains on the other side. Beautiful cliff-side homes and rickety shanties made of whatever hodgepodge of materials folks could get their hands on dotted the lush landscape.
The poverty in her old neighborhood was more than real. But in so many ways it couldn’t compare to the tiny, leaky places so many people here in Peru called home. Whenever families heard the medical mission crews were coming to an area, they’d trek for miles, hoping their child would be chosen to receive surgery and care. They’d sleep on the ground and patiently line up for their children to be seen, and if they were told that their child couldn’t be taken care of, that there was no more room in the schedule, they’d smile and thank the doctors and nurses, saying they’d be back to try again next time.
Helping those children was beyond important. Somehow, she had to find a way to get the meeting in Lima rescheduled so she could get the partnership and funding to give underprivileged kids a dream and a goal, while still taking care of as many patients needing surgery here as possible.
The taxi driver finally turned off the main road, and she sat up straight again, relief surging through her veins as she recognized the landscape. “Is this it? Are we about there?”
“Sí. Just up the hill a couple of miles.”
Thank God.
The cab lurched to a stop where the road ended, which left another five hundred or so feet to the small hospital OR. On an uphill slope she knew wasn’t easy to navigate, especially when it rained. “Just put my suitcase and the rest of the stuff on that rock there, please,” she said, pointing. “I’ll get it later.”
He nodded and did as she asked before she stuffed a wad of money in his hand. Being in a position to give a generous tip to someone she knew needed it always awed her and thrilled her, after so many years of having nothing herself. “Thanks so much. Can you hand me the monitor so I can carry it easier?”
The sketchy Spanish she’d been painstakingly learning, along with a few gestures, seemed to get her message across and he deposited the equipment into her wide open arms with a grin and a nod. “Adios.”
“Adios! Thanks again.”
Annabel turned to trudge up the hill, slipping a little on small stones as she went. Had the path always been this long? Huffing and puffing and only about halfway there, it felt very possible that her arms might crack off from the heavy weight of the patient monitor before she even got to the operating room. If she’d had any brains, she should have paid the man extra money to carry it for her. But since she knew everyone was waiting for her to finally show up, pausing to put down the awkward thing and catch her breath wasn’t an option.
Thrashing herself all over again for not thinking this through, Annabelle heaved the transport monitor higher against her chest, praying she didn’t drop it before it could even be used. Wouldn’t that just be the icing on the disaster cake?
Sweat rolled down her back, morphing from a trickle to a waterfall despite it being only about seventy degrees on an early March morning, and every hurried step seemed to add another pound to the weight in her arms. A few more lurching steps, and she topped the rise. Seeing the cement block building that made do as an operating room in this part of Peru would have her whooping if she’d had any breath left, but instead she sagged in relief.
She’d made it.
Trying hard to ignore the way the monitor jabbed her breasts and the sharply painful muscle twisting in her shoulder, she bit her lip to keep from cursing. Finally, she got the doorknob turned and the door shoved open with her shoulder.
“So sorry I’m late,” she said breathlessly to anyone listening as she stumbled into the sparse room. “And that I missed yesterday, too. I hope you were able to take care of nonsurgical stuff since I wasn’t here but, still, I know it wasn’t good that I missed my flight. Really sorry about that.”
Quickly scanning the space to take in the small assembly of medical professionals near the surgical bed, she saw the familiar face of a Peruvian nurse named Karina whom she’d worked with here before, and her friend, Jen, who worked in a different hospital in Chicago.
“Hi!” Annabelle said with a smile and an accompanying wave of her few free fingers. The lack of return smiles, along with the worry on their faces, briefly registered before she looked down at the small patient they were crowded around, who was lying on the bed and staring up at her somberly.
“Hello, buddy!”
She sent him a reassuring grin before looking for a table close enough to the patient to set the monitor down, her arms beyond desperate to be relieved of the heavy machine.
“Oh, my gosh, this thing weighs a ton! Where can I put it? I hope you all haven’t been waiting for me too long. Getting here has been one problem after another! First there was a delay getting the monitor at the hospital, which made me miss my stupid flight. Then I hit bad weather and missed my connection, which was even worse. Plus, I had no idea airport security would take such a crazy long time examining the monitor this morning, and I—”
“Most of our surgeries have been done without a monitor in the past. If security had a problem with it, you should have left it at the airport. Or shipped it to begin with, which would have prevented all your problems so you could be here on time.”
Annabelle froze, her heart knocked hard against her ribs, and suddenly she couldn’t breathe at all.
That voice. The cold tone. The stinging criticism. All were too horrifyingly familiar. Forcing herself to slowly turn toward the tall, gowned man standing with his arms folded across his chest next to the patient, her worst fears were confirmed.
She may not have seen him for five years, but she’d recognize those hard brown eyes anywhere. The cut cheekbones. The bronzed skin. The displeasure and disdain on his face. The lips that were inexplicably sensuously shaped, even when pressed together in clear annoyance.
Dr. Daniel Ferrera in the flesh.
The man who had sabotaged her first career goals.
Gulping, she tried to pull air into her lungs. How could this be? How was it possible that of all the cardiac surgeons in the whole world, he was the one here on this mission trip in Peru?
“Making us miss an entire day of surgeries yesterday was unfair to everyone else, both the patients and the surgical team who took valuable vacation time to be here, Dr. Richards. And this morning you’ve kept the patient waiting for his surgery, making it so fewer patients will get seen today and all week, disappointing the families hoping their child will be taken care of since we won’t be able to fit in nearly as many because of your actions.”
Condemnation filled his dark eyes as they seared into hers. “I could have sent someone to get the monitor from the airport later, while you were here doing your job, but apparently some things never change.”
“I... The monitor was donated by a benefactor.”
“And the benefactor is more important than our patients here?”
“No. No, of course not. But I had to make sure the monitor arrived safely. When I was here last, we almost lost a patient because there was no monitor. A premature infant, and that’s just not acceptable if there’s any way to avoid it. So I decided to bring one here this time.” Icy shock numbed her brain, making it hard to speak coherently, and her insides seemed to squeeze and sag along with her arms under the heavy weight of the monitor as she stared at him.
Daniel must have seen her struggling to hold the machine, as a disgusted sound left his lips before he strode to take it from her, sliding it onto a nearby metal table.
“If you’d simply shipped it, you wouldn’t have hit bad weather, wouldn’t have missed your connection, wouldn’t have had to deal with airport security and wouldn’t have missed your first day, setting back the schedule for the whole week. It seems apparent that you’re not cut out for this kind of work.”
The arrogant tone, the sarcastically raised dark eyebrow, the scorn on his face cut through her horrified paralysis. Yes, it was true, she might not be cut out for any of the things she’d striven so hard to be excellent at. She wasn’t like him and all the others who came from their hoity-toity privileged backgrounds, people who’d had every advantage handed to them with white gloves and smiles, showered with accolades and money and a golden path laid out for them to become physicians.
She might be leagues below him in every way but, if nothing else, her pathetic history had at least given her grit and bravado. Living in rough neighborhoods around even rougher people had taught her that, when pushed, you’d better push back or you’d end up rubbed into the floor. She wasn’t about to let him talk to her that way, in front of their patient and the rest of the small surgical staff, whether she deserved it or not.
“For your information, this is my ninth mission trip, Dr. Ferrera. I’m not a newbie. I know the circumstances we’re dealing with here. But if we can save even one life by having a monitor, I was damned well going to make that happen.” She grabbed the mask and IV with shaking hands to show him it was time to stop talking and get to work. “I’m no longer the green anesthesiologist I was when we last worked together. Since your insults and criticism are only delaying the surgery on this boy even longer, I suggest we get to it.”
Dark eyes slashed across her like a whip before he turned to the patient and crew. “Since Dr. Richards obviously hasn’t had a chance to study our surgery lineup today, I’ll have to go over it again. We have an atrial septal defect, with the hole thankfully small. Get him hooked up to the all-important monitor while Dr. Richards gets the gases ready. As soon as he’s asleep and ready, I’ll get started.”
Everyone got to work. Daniel’s scowl and his stiff professional tone changed completely as he leaned over the little boy, speaking softly and melodically in Spanish. Whatever he said actually made the child smile, and though Annabelle didn’t want to feel the squishiness in her heart at how beautifully he was reassuring their young patient, it happened anyway.
How could the man be such a chameleon? A total autocratic jerk one minute, and a gentle, caring doctor the next? It didn’t matter, really. Neither of them would ever get past what had happened five years ago, and his obviously negative convictions about her skills. The thought of having to work with him for two entire weeks made her stomach churn. Before she’d even started her first surgery, she found herself hoping it was the fastest two-week mission trip in history.
But with no way to actually warp time to make that happen, she would focus on their patient and her job. She prepared to connect the two anesthetic gases to the small clear mask, then leaned over to show it to the child. Trying to explain it to him in her halting Spanish, she realized the stress of facing Daniel Ferrera seemed to have obliterated from her brain the few words she did know in the other language. With the surgery needing to start pronto, she knew that swallowing her pride was the right thing to do, and turned to her friend Karina. “Can you tell him I’m going to put the mask over his nose and mouth, and he’ll go to dreamland for a while?”
Before Karina could say a word, Daniel Ferrera leaned over the patient again, speaking more of that lovely, lilting Spanish, and mere seconds after Annabelle placed the mask on his face, the boy’s eyes were closed. Grateful that she’d done this enough times that her shakiness evaporated as she worked through the steps, Annabelle worked to connect the IV lines to his arms and legs, then the final, central line to his neck connecting directly to his heart. A necessary step of stunning the heart before the surgery could begin. “Pressure?”
“Monitor shows we have railroad tracks so all okay,” Jennifer said.
Annabelle glanced at the monitor, glad to have it for confirmation, no matter what Daniel Ferrera thought about it. “Good.” She concentrated on inserting a breathing tube, relieved that the boy’s mouth opened wide enough for it to go in easily. “Neuromuscular blockade set. We have a one airway, so he’s breathing manually.”
All she got was a nod from Daniel Ferrera before he got to work. Just as she’d remembered from the last time she’d watched him perform a delicate operation, he was steady, confident and precise. Not a single bobble or pause, just an even pace and periodic questions to the support crew and her as they monitored the patient. But there was no question that the tone of voice he used when he talked to her was completely different than the one he used with everyone else. Abrupt and clipped, showing loud and clear that he was still annoyed.
What was with the man that he couldn’t just let things go? It was clear nothing had changed from five years ago. Didn’t he believe people deserved a second chance after a mistake? Even if that mistake had been a terrible one?
For the next several hours, the surgery went smoothly, the whole team working together seamlessly without a hitch.
“That’s a wrap.” Daniel said, finally leaning back and running his finger down the closed incision. “Time for epinephrine to get the heart working again, then we’ll wake him, Dr. Richards.”
* * *
Her eyes lifted to briefly meet his, and if that icy blue could have physically stabbed him, he had a feeling she would have been glad. One of the many personality traits he disliked in medical professionals was if they tried to pass the buck when something went wrong. He did everything he could to make sure every surgery went perfectly, but when he made an error, or an error was made by someone he was supervising, he owned it.
Which Annabelle Richards should do, as far as he was concerned. Maybe her lateness hadn’t caused catastrophic damage, but they very well might not be able to perform surgery on all the patients they had scheduled today without everyone working into the late hours. Her tardiness wasn’t fair to any of their small patients who might have to wait until the next visit, or to the hardworking staff at this hospital who were donating their time to this cause.
“Are you prepared to work late tonight, if we have to, Dr. Richards? You look a little tired from your stressful travels.”
“How sweet of you to worry about me, Dr. Ferrera,” she said in a sarcastic tone. “No need, though. I may look like a hag, but I’m not tired at all. I’ll work as late as is needed.”
“Good. Because now we’re more than a day behind schedule, as you know.”
“I do know.” A near snarl curled her lip as she turned back to the equipment.
Hag? Now, that was a word no one could ever apply to Annabelle Richards, curled lip or not. Daniel studied the mutinous expression on her face as she diligently avoided looking at him, and couldn’t deny that, for some reason, her take-no-prisoners attitude and spunk was as appealing as the sweet smile in her blue eyes and on her lush lips that appeared as she turned to their small patient. He couldn’t deny that, for a split second, thoughts of what it would feel like to kiss that seductive mouth had scorched his brain just as it had the first time he’d seen her five years ago. It annoyed the hell out of him.
Gorgeous, sexy and sassy didn’t have anything to do with good medical skills, and he figured that her beauty had probably helped her advance in her career when she shouldn’t have. When he’d blocked her getting a permanent position five years ago at the hospital where he still worked, two of the upper-level hospital administrators had stepped in and gone to bat for her. He still believed her good looks, with serious curves in all the right places, had been part of why they’d wanted to keep her around.
Regardless, Daniel was the best cardiac surgeon at the hospital, and when he’d stated with no room for discussion that he’d never work with her again, they’d known he’d meant it. No one wanted to have to dance around that kind of scheduling nightmare, so off she’d gone in a matter of weeks.
Had he thought about her a few times afterward? For whatever reason, he couldn’t deny that he had. For a few months after she’d left, when he’d closed his eyes at night, he’d sometimes seen her face and lips. Her silky blond hair falling to her shoulders in soft waves. That body of hers, which any man would salivate over. He didn’t think the strangeness of his random thoughts about her were from any guilt over getting her fired. No, he’d figured it must be a sign that he’d been working too hard. Needed to let off steam with someone he knew was interested in only that and not any other kind of relationship, since he could never offer anything long term.
Yes, he’d thought about Annabelle Richards, but had he ever regretted blocking her from getting the permanent position? Not for one second. There was no room for error in surgery. He knew that better than anyone, and on the rare occasions he got pushback from someone on his medical team for his perfectionist attitudes, he thought of his brother and stood his ground.
His brother’s cardiac surgeon simply hadn’t been careful enough during the delicate surgery he’d needed, and if he had been, Gabriel would still be here, joking with Daniel, pushing the boundaries with their parents and grandparents, living his life at one hundred percent velocity like he always had until the day he’d died.
The loss had torn Daniel up. Had left a painful, gaping hole in his family, and he had no desire to ever forget how that felt.
Remembering his brother gave him the strength and resolution to be the kind of surgeon he had to be. To insist that everyone be on top of their game for every single patient. Every single time. He and his team owed it to his patients, and to the people who loved them, to give every one of them the best possible care available, and that included the nursing staff and the anesthesiologist.
The patient Dr. Annabelle Richards had nearly killed five years ago during surgery had suffered from exactly the same heart condition as Gabriel. No way had he wanted her to work as the anesthesiologist on his team.
And yet here she was. So what was he going to do about it? Mission hospital or not, he owed every single patient the best surgical outcome he could obtain with the tools that he had at hand. Dr. Annabelle Richards would not be the person who lowered that standard.
Daniel yanked down his surgical mask, gave their patient one more careful check over, asked him if he felt okay, and reassured him that he’d be visiting with him in Recovery when he felt better. Stripping off his gloves, he moved out of the OR to see the next patient coming in. He checked the diagnostic work and the seriousness of the six-month-old’s situation. Stuck his head into the small, spartan waiting room crammed with patients before talking with the local woman juggling the surgery schedule to see how many children they could see that day.
Whoever the anesthesiologist was on each mission, they often accompanied him on these quick rounds. But Dr. Richards had chosen to stay back in the OR, probably to tinker with her all-important monitor.
Having her work as anesthesiologist for the next few days’ surgeries was the only option to ensure that everyone on the docket got taken care of. But as soon as he had a moment free? He’d be looking for a replacement for Annabelle Richards.
CHAPTER TWO (#ue02ea741-c5f4-54a3-8632-0086ee69c912)
DAWN CREPT MISTILY across the mountains as Daniel stepped outside the hotel where the medical team was staying, sipping hot coffee obtained from the large urn in the foyer. He savored the taste of it on his tongue, letting the flavor of the locally grown arabica linger there, along with memories of his childhood. He and his brother had always loved the stuff, and he smiled, remembering sending Gabriel to sneak into the kitchen in the morning to pour both of them a cup, heaping them with cream and sugar.
Daniel had been more of a rule follower than his twin, but when it had been to his benefit, he’d been happy to take advantage of his brother’s mischievous, more daring nature. Sometimes that had involved sports and adventures, sometimes it had been stealing desserts or coffee or other things they weren’t supposed to have, straight from under their nanny’s or parents’ noses.
He took another swig of the hot brew. Straight black was the way he liked it now, giving him a much-needed caffeine jolt after having worked late into the night before getting busy making phone calls to acquaintances at various hospitals who might know of an accomplished anesthesiologist who’d be available and willing to work at the mission hospital for the next two weeks.
With any luck one of the people recommended would be willing to take over Annabelle Richards’s small shoes. He knew she’d be furious and, to his complete surprise, a niggle of discomfort over his phone calls briefly poked at him, knowing she’d given her vacation time to this trek and gone through a lot of effort to get here against the odds. There was also the undeniable fact that throughout yesterday’s surgeries she’d been utterly competent and professional.
But that didn’t mean that she always would be. He had no idea if she’d grown as a doctor, and he reminded himself, again, that it was critical to have only the best anesthesiologist available for the kinds of complicated heart surgeries they performed here.
But maybe there was some compromise to be found. Maybe he should suggest she work in a different mission while she was in Peru, rather than sending her back to the United States when he found a replacement. There were several clinics in poor parts of the country that were only occasionally open to patients. Clinics that did far less complicated surgeries than he’d be doing. Surgeries that didn’t take six or eight hours to accomplish, and weren’t life-threatening. She could handle those kinds of things, he knew. And any local doctor without much in the way of staff would welcome her help.
It was a good plan. And maybe part of the reason it sounded good to him was because he couldn’t deny that, despite having very valid reasons, seeing anger and maybe hurt in those blue eyes that could quickly turn from warm and friendly to icy disdain in a single blink wasn’t something he looked forward to. Maybe knowing another clinic needed her would make her happy to go there instead.
Impatient with himself and the odd mental discomfort he felt, Daniel looked out towards the mountains in the distance, pondering how he could get Dr. Richards moved to another clinic, when a movement nearby caught his attention. As though he’d conjured her from the shadowy mist, Annabelle came out of the hotel doors, her pale hair shimmering through the mist much the way the moon was, still hanging low in the slowly lightening sky.
Surprised that she’d be up so early after her botched travels and long work day, he took in the light pink robe she wore, cinched close at the waist and emphasizing her large breasts and the roundness of her hips. Her legs, bare and shapely, seemed longer than when she wore scrubs. Both hands were wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, and the way she breathed in the scent, closed her eyes as she took a sip, and tipped her head back as it slid down her throat, made his heart give a little kick. A small smile tipped her soft-looking lips. His entire body reacted to the utter sensuous pleasure on the woman’s face.
This was how she’d look making love. Pleasured, satisfied, wanting more. And he wanted to give it to her. Wanted to walk over, kiss her and open up that robe to slide his hands inside to feel her soft skin, caress all those curves.
Damn. Where had all that come from? Somehow, he forced himself to look away and take a big gulp of his own coffee. His chest burned, but he wasn’t sure it was from the drink. Thinking of her in that way was all kinds of wrong when they were working together, even if it ended up being for only a short time.
Daniel didn’t know whether to try to skulk deeper into the shadows until she went back inside or make some noise to let her know he was out here. He decided the first was cowardly and weak, and since he tried to never be either of those things, he took a few steps toward her.
“I see you need coffee to get going in the morning as much as I do.”
She swung to stare at him, surprise touching her face before it settled into a frown. The pleasure replaced by annoyance. “I like coffee, but I don’t need it to get going.”
“Energetic the second you leap from bed? Lucky you.”
“Not exactly, but I do other things to wake myself up.”
“Now you’ve intrigued me.” Which was an understatement, as several completely inappropriate thoughts lunged into his head. “What things?”
“I’m always amazed at how beautiful it is up here,” she said, ignoring his question to look out over the vista in front of them. “You’re from Peru originally, aren’t you? How did you end up in Philadelphia?”
He let his gaze follow hers to the mountains and the golden rays illuminating their peaks. “This was home for us until I was ten years old. Still is a part of me, I guess. We lived in a more urban area, which was, and is, beautiful in its own way. But the government became corrupt, and rival terror groups wreaked havoc on the entire country. The political unrest and economic mess finally forced my parents to move to the US, taking some of the family business interests with them.”
“I’d heard about the political troubles, but it’s much better now, isn’t it?”
“Yes, thank God. My grandparents stayed, and there were a number of years that we worried about their safety. But the government and economy are both good now, and businesses are thriving. The quality of life is good, too, for many. But that can’t be said for everyone here, as you already know.”
“Why is that?” As soon as she said it, her lips twisted. “Never mind. The same question can be asked about the US and plenty of other places. Why there are those who have a lot and others who don’t.”
It seemed her blue eyes shadowed at that, and he nodded. “Yes. The stark contrasts that exist here are part of the wonder of Peru, and part of its shame. Until I moved away, I took for granted the huge and interesting differences between the arid coastline and deep rainforests. Snow-covered mountains and the fertile valleys that grow so many fruits and vegetables, sugarcane and coffee. Gold and silver mines are a big part of the economy, too, and I’m sure you’ve seen our famous and unique fabric arts. So much to love about this place, and for tourists to enjoy.”
“Do the indigenous people resent the tourists showing up at Machu Picchu and their villages, or do they appreciate the tourist trade? The foreigners buying the gorgeous woven clothes and blankets?”
“I assume they’re glad to sell their wares and to make money that way, but don’t know for sure. I haven’t really talked to patients’ families about that—guess I should.” Interesting that she’d asked that question, when he hadn’t really thought about it at all. “Peruvians have a deep history with so many ancient cultures and widely diverse ethnicities. There’s also a sharp divide between the wealthy elite, like my own family, and the extremely poor that I’m committed to take care of.”
“So you’re one of the wealthy elite? Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”
The way she said it, with a slight scowl creasing her brow, showed she wasn’t the least impressed by his background. “I am blessed in that way, yes. But it doesn’t blind me to the problems here. To the atrocious wall in Lima that runs between shantytowns on one side of the mountain and large homes with every amenity on the other.”
“The wall of shame. It’s awful.” She scrunched up her face in a way that would have been beyond cute if the subject weren’t so serious. “But even though that kind of divide isn’t as physically obvious up here and in other places in the world, the gap is still pretty big. I mean, look at this place.”
He didn’t have to follow the wave of her hand to know what she meant. “True. Sometimes I feel guilty to be staying in this kind of modern hotel, knowing that, close by, some of the families we take care of don’t have running water or electricity.”
“Me, too. But does it make me a horrible person that I’m glad to be able to stay here anyway? I’ve worked in places that didn’t have running water and had generators that only provided electricity part of the day, but I can’t lie. I appreciate knowing I can at least take a shower and that’s what keeps bringing me back to stay more often when I’m working here.”
He had to smile at her earnest expression, as though she felt she really should feel guilty about that. “No, it doesn’t make you a horrible person. It makes you someone from the Western world, and we’re all spoiled by having a light switch we can just turn on, aren’t we?”
“Yeah. If the electric bill’s been paid,” she murmured, before sending him a slightly strained smile. “Anyway, I think I’ll get going on my morning routine then take advantage of that shower before work.”
“Surgery doesn’t start for another couple of hours. Why are you up so early, after having so little sleep because you had to bring that monitor?”
That earned him a narrow-eyed stare, and he mentally smacked himself for bringing it up again. And why had he? He’d been thinking about the gray smudges beneath her pretty eyes, wishing she’d go back to bed for a while so she’d feel refreshed. Not about the stupid monitor or her lateness.
“I’m always up early. It’s important to get mentally centered before taking on the tasks of the day.”
“What do you do to get mentally centered?”
“Meditation. Yoga. I know...” She held up her hand. “Someone like you is probably thinking I don’t have a yoga body, but a person doesn’t have to be thin to do healthy stretching, you know.”
Her words sent his gaze back to her tantalizing figure in that robe and he had to yank it away before she saw him staring. “Someone like me?”
“Yes. A person who thinks it’s his right to judge and criticize others. How they do their job. Where they come from or what they wear. Mostly, it’s obvious you usually decide that pretty much everyone on your medical teams come up short, undeserving of breathing the same rarefied air as you.”
“You have me all wrong.” Inexplicably, her words stung, even as he felt confused as to why she was saying some of it. “I don’t judge people. Didn’t we just have a conversation about how much I care about the have-nots who live here? As for my medical teams, I demand the best for my patients. That was the only thing on my mind five years ago, since that’s clearly what you’re talking about here.”
“I want the best for my patients, too. Except I don’t throw other people under the bus, even when they make a mistake or could do something better. I give them a second chance, and try to help them along the way.”
“Some patients never get a second chance.” The words came out more sharply than he’d intended as memories of Gabriel squeezed his chest. “Which is why I insist on working with only the most qualified people, instead of pandering to anyone’s ego.”
“Well, anyone who could keep their ego intact around you must be made of steel. And it seems to me that maybe you’re the one with the ego problem. Hotshot cardiac surgeon from a wealthy family. A guy with a God complex who thinks he’s better than everyone else.”
“I have many colleagues who ask to work with me, and if that’s because they think I’m one of the best surgeons around, I’m happy about that. If you call that a big ego, so be it.”
She took a swig of coffee and shrugged. “I call it like I see it.”
He took a step closer, his chest burning at her unexpected attack, and after they’d had such a friendly conversation, too. “Maybe the truth is you have a plenty big ego yourself. Attractive enough to land a job in a prestigious hospital. Beautiful enough to have hospital higher-ups go to bat for you, even when you mess up.”
She gasped, taking two big steps forward to jab her finger into his chest, her eyes flashing with blue fury. “That’s just insulting, and if I were a man you wouldn’t dare say something like that to me. I’m not going to stand here and defend myself, because I couldn’t care less what you think about me, other than you have to trust me to do a good job here. You believe what you want about anything else, but I know what I’m doing, and I got my job through hard work and nothing else. You’re stuck working with me and I’m stuck working with you for the next two weeks. We have children to heal and lives to save, and that’s the only thing that’s important to me. So get over yourself and deal with it.”
She swung around and marched to the door. Coffee sloshed from her cup and onto her pink sleeve, trickling to the ground, but she just kept going without another look back.
Daniel blew out a slow breath as he watched the sexy sway of her backside disappear through the door. How had he lost control of that conversation, and why had he let her goad him into verbalizing his questions about why some of the hospital administrators had argued to keep her on?
Normally, he was a man who could hold his thoughts, but there was something about her that got under his skin. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he’d felt so frustrated at her words, and at the same time he’d been mesmerized by her lips as they’d moved, that the comments about her beauty helping her get her job had just fallen out of his mouth, even as he’d known he shouldn’t say anything. Even as he’d spoken, a part of him had wanted to reach for her, grasp her shoulders, and pull her against him. Wanted to drop his mouth to hers to keep her from lambasting him. Wanted to sip the coffee from her lips, experience the taste of her that he knew would be sweeter than the sugar in her drink.
And wouldn’t that have been a giant mistake? What the hell was wrong with him?
He rubbed his hand down his face. The number one priority in dealing with her just became being careful to speak to her, and react to her, with only the utmost professionalism. How ironic would it be for her to lodge a complaint against him about his conduct on this medical mission?
A brisk walk might help him get his equilibrium back. And maybe it was time for him to learn to do a little meditation himself, to purge his brain of any and all peculiar and troubling thoughts about Annabelle Richards.
* * *
Another long day of surgeries left Daniel with an aching back and a sense of satisfaction. The hours spent were worth a little discomfort, since repairing holes in children’s small hearts or addressing hypoplastic left heart syndrome and other critical heart malformations was exactly why he did these missions.
The whole team had worked tirelessly along with him, including Annabelle. He couldn’t deny that she’d shown herself to be a steady hand with the anesthesia, communicating well with the nurses and bringing what he’d learned was her special brand of charm to the young patients. She might not speak very good Spanish but at least she tried, and knew how to deal with their patients in a way that calmed even the most nervous. Her wide smile, and the way she used tiny fairy and superhero dolls as props to leap gently onto their little arms and bodies, distracting them from the medical preparation happening around them, always made them relax and laugh before she got down to the serious business of getting them to sleep for surgery.
Maybe she really had grown as a doctor over the past five years, after the anesthesia resident’s nearly catastrophic error and her mistake of not supervising well enough what the guy was doing. An error that had nearly ended up with their young patient dead. Maybe he wouldn’t have been as angry if the teen hadn’t been having the same surgery Gabriel had died from, or maybe it wouldn’t have made any difference at all. But he had to believe that not a soul alive would blame him for being furious and distraught about a member of his staff nearly losing a child’s life through completely avoidable actions.
It was hard for him to think beyond that upsetting day when it came to Annabelle. Hard to give her the benefit of the doubt now, his chest still constricting at the memory of the chaos as they’d struggled to keep the boy alive. Another teenager, this one under Daniel’s watch, nearly dying. Was he supposed to just look the other way? Forget about it? The boy’s family had no idea how close they’d come to losing him that day, a fate that would have changed their world forever.
Some would say he should move on and give Annabelle another chance since she was older and more experienced now. And maybe they’d be right. But he’d already gotten the wheels greased for him to work with a new doc, and for her to do other, still important, work but at a different clinic, far away from him. He would feel under less stress in the OR here, and patients at the new clinic would get Annabelle’s help facilitating the surgeries they needed. So nothing but good would come from his plan.
“You got this?” he asked the team after the patient’s vital signs were normal and he was satisfied the surgery was a success.
“Yes, Dr. Ferrera,” Annabelle said in a cool, professional voice. “Ready to remove the breathing tube and IVs.”
“Good. I’ll be over at Administration, evaluating tomorrow’s patients, making final decisions about who’s on the list and when.”
Annabelle and the nurses all nodded, focusing on the patient, as they should. Daniel stripped off his gloves and mask and went to the other cement block building that served their bare-bones administration staff and doubled as a waiting room/sleeping room combo. Families with children sat on the folding chairs and sprawled on the floor, many of whom he knew had come from miles away. Patiently waiting to be seen, they slept there or outside on homemade blankets they’d brought with them, along with bags of food, since the clinic could only provide bottled water to drink. They waited to find out if they’d be one of those chosen to get well, or be put on the list for the next time a clinic was run. Some looked deceptively healthy, others were visibly ill. Far too thin, too pale, too quiet and motionless for a child to be.
Daniel’s own heart abnormality had always been hidden behind a facade of good health. He’d played sports, he’d skied, he’d seemed fine in every way. With both their heart functions in reasonably good and manageable conditions, it had been decided that surgery on the identical twins wasn’t worth the risk to either of them. That was, until Gabriel’s heart condition had worsened and he’d ended up needing the surgery that had ultimately killed him.
Daniel hadn’t had to face that.
He knew it was possible that things might change. The hole in his heart that both brothers had been born with, and that medical professionals had always kept an eye on, could get larger and more problematic than the simple arrhythmia he had to deal with sometimes. Living with his heart abnormality was a little like carrying around a ticking bomb. It might never go off. Or it could someday result in endocarditis or sepsis. Stroke. Death.
It meant Daniel lived every day as if it were his last and never committed to a forever. No long-term relationships, no children. He simply couldn’t promise anyone that he’d be here on earth for a long time, and it wouldn’t be fair to put a woman or a family through that kind of uncertainty. Through the possibility of future pain.
Twenty years had passed since his brother had died, and time had dulled the intense grief. He and his parents and grandparents still dealt with the kind of deep pain that came from a sudden, shocking loss. The ache would always be there.
Holding in a deep sigh, he moved his gaze from the throngs of patiently waiting families to the front desk, trying to detach himself by focusing on the list of patients there. He shoved down the ache that came with every mission trip, knowing he couldn’t fix everyone who needed it. Knowing that his decisions about who would get on the surgery lists and who wouldn’t meant more worries for the people who loved them. More kids who couldn’t play in a normal way until their hearts were repaired. More who might die if the tests done before he’d arrived didn’t show how serious their situation really was. More whose families might lose them forever if he made the wrong choice.
“May I have the list of possible patients for tomorrow?” he asked the receptionist. With the long sheet in hand, he moved from family to family, child to child. Reading their charts and talking with them about their symptoms. Listening to their hearts to evaluate murmurs and arrhythmias, and to figure out the best course of action to help them to get better.
Hoping and praying he got it all right.
“I think that’s it for the day,” he said in Spanish to the clinic receptionist, who seemed as worn out as he did, and he knew the whole team had to feel the same way. “I’ll let everyone know we’re done until tomorrow morning.”
“Sí, Dr. Ferrera. I’m sure more folks will arrive by morning, and I’ll try to sort them by health priority before you talk with them after surgery tomorrow.”
“Be sure to let me know if any seem critical, and I’ll look at them between patients to see if they need to be fitted into the rotation as soon as possible.”
She nodded, and Daniel bit back a tired sigh at the thought of more patients to evaluate even before the medical team started surgery in the morning. But that was the whole reason they were here, wasn’t it? To see the maximum number of the most ill children was the name of the game.
When Daniel stepped back inside the cement block building that housed the OR, he was surprised to see Annabelle helping Jennifer and Karina wash out the masks and tracheal tubes they’d used for their patients, sterilizing them, then hanging them to dry. Most docs left that to the nursing staff and local tech assistants, and he watched her lean over to dig out surgical items like sponges and syringes from a box he hadn’t seen before.
“What’s all that stuff in there, and where did it come from?” he asked.
“I brought it.” Annabelle didn’t look up at him, just kept laying out items for tomorrow morning’s surgeries.
“Did your hospital donate it?”
“Dr. Richards started a—”
Annabelle sent Jennifer a deep frown, accompanied by a small shake of her head, that had Jennifer quickly closing her mouth.
What was that all about? He looked from Annabelle to Jennifer, then back to see Annabelle intensely concentrating on sorting the equipment. He couldn’t help but wonder what it was that she clearly didn’t want him to hear, and he would definitely be asking Jennifer later when Annabelle wasn’t around to shush her.
“It’s just a few things. Not as much as we’d like to have, but I didn’t have much room in my suitcase and, of course, I had to bring the useless monitor.”
So she was still angry with him about that. Not that it was any real surprise.
“I never said it was useless. I said we’d functioned without monitors plenty of times in the past, and that missing a whole day of surgeries, then being late with a patient already on the operating table and putting us hugely behind schedule, wasn’t worth the time wasted getting one here.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the strident sound of his words made him feel a little ridiculous. It was history at this point, and the woman had worked hard all day with the rest of the team, with successful outcomes for every patient. He nearly opened his mouth to say something more, maybe a general congratulations and thank-you to the whole team, but the words died at the icy dislike in the look she sent him.
Those pretty lips of hers had thinned, too, but she didn’t respond, which he was fine with as the subject needed to be dropped. “Anyway,” he continued, annoyed that he felt awkward, “I’m told dinner is being held for us at the hotel. Anything I can do to help get things finished up here?”
“We’re fine, Dr. Ferrera. Not much more to do, but you go ahead,” Annabelle said as she hung another washed-out mask on the line.
“I’m not going to eat while you’re all still out here.”
“This is the last bit,” Jennifer said, drying her hands and shooting him a grin. “And I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m pretty much starving.”
“Me, too,” Daniel said, glad that at least she and the other nurse weren’t holding some kind of grudge against him, channeling Annabelle’s obvious dislike. He needed a good working relationship with the surgical team. “Let’s go.”
Normally on these kinds of trips Daniel had dinner with the team then excused himself to be alone. To regroup and relax after a long day of work that was stressful no matter how many years he’d been doing it, knowing children’s lives were literally in his hands. But tonight the jovial mood and banter between the group kept him in his seat. Jennifer and Karina told a number of absurd hospital stories during dinner that had everyone laughing, including Annabelle. Why he found his attention was focused on her more than the storytellers, he wasn’t sure. But as soon as he pondered that, the answer was obvious. Something about her sparkling eyes and infectious smile and pretty face made him smile, too. Drew him to her, whether he liked it or not.
From the moment they’d all started eating he couldn’t help but notice that Annabelle seemed to enjoy her dinner far more than the rest of them. While the food at this hotel wasn’t bad compared to what was often on the menu on mission trips, it hardly qualified as something to lick your lips over. But from the look on Annabelle’s face as she ate every bite on her plate, anyone would have thought it was gourmet fare.
He nearly commented on it, but decided that would probably just make her mad at him all over again. His relationships with women might be of the sweet but short variety but that didn’t mean he wasn’t well aware that most females didn’t appreciate observations about how much food they did or didn’t eat, and whether or not they seemed to be enjoying it.
So he kept his mouth shut, while watching her pretty lips smile as she chewed and her enthusiasm as she poked another bite into her mouth. Enjoying watching her was a big part of the reason he hadn’t retired to his room. Irritated though they’d both been with one another yesterday and this morning, he liked seeing her face relaxed and smiling, to hear the sound of her musical laughter. All that was a lot better than the scowl and cold voice she usually sent his way, though he didn’t understand why he suddenly seemed to care about that.
“How about you, Annabelle?” The question came out of his mouth before he’d known he was going to ask it. “What’s your most memorable mission trip story?”
Her eyes met his, looking surprised that he’d directed a question to her. “Hmm...” she said, tapping her finger against those lush lips. “I guess the craziest thing that ever happened was on one of my trips to Guatemala. The military guides in front of us were stopped, then surrounded, by a bunch of cutthroat-looking guys with all kinds of weapons pointed at them, and us,” she began, and Daniel had to wonder why she was smiling at the retelling of what had to have been a scary situation. He’d been in a few himself, and even now would definitely not have been grinning about them.
“Oh, my heavens,” Jennifer said, wide-eyed as she pressed her hands to her cheeks. “What happened?”
“We were in the SUV behind them, and obviously we were worried. A nurse and I were the only passengers in the car, planning to meet the surgeon at the mission site. We kind of froze, wondering what our guides were going to do, figuring we should stay put. But then the guys came back to our car and gestured for us to get out. Gotta tell you, my knees were shaking! They took us to a house, and we had no idea what was going to happen. Whether they were going to take us in there and just plain shoot us, or do something awful to us, or what.”
Daniel found he was holding his breath, even as he knew this story must have a good outcome or she wouldn’t be smiling like she was.
“And?” Karina asked, obviously as riveted to hear the answer as he felt.
“They opened the door, and before we were even inside, we could hear a woman moaning. The minute we saw her, it was obvious that she was in labor and having some kind of serious problem. In a lot of pain. We ended up doing an emergency C-section on her, delivering the most beautiful twins you’ve ever seen. And they were healthy and fine—such a relief because we weren’t sure what to expect, you know? Then later, when she and the babies were stable, I came back out to tell them everything was okay, that mama and babies were all fine and healthy. They whooped and hollered and hugged me and swung me around until I couldn’t breathe!
“And one man—I never knew for sure, but I assume it was the babies’ father—had tears rolling down his cheeks as he hugged me. It was an incredible feeling to know we’d helped, and that maybe the mother and babies wouldn’t have made it without us. It felt like it was divine intervention that we were traveling there when they needed us, you know? It was the best day of my life.”
“I can’t believe you never told me this before!” Jennifer said. “So they were nice to you, then?”
“Maybe too nice.” Annabelle grinned. “They plied us with rum and beer and all kinds of food, and we ended up staying the night there, partly because we wanted to check on the new mom and babies in the morning and partly because the military guys and our driver had a bit too much for them to handle getting behind the wheel.”
“Wow, now that’s one for the books,” Karina said, laughing.
“Yeah, it was scary, but funny and wonderful, too. If we hadn’t been on the road there at that moment, I think the outcome might have been bad. So it was a truly great night. The best feeling in the world. Then word apparently got around, because on the way to the two clinics we worked on that trip, there were always locals helping us out any way they could, even acting as secondary escorts along with the military. It was awesome to feel appreciated that way, and to know that we’d really made a difference there.”
“When was this?” Karina asked.
“My first mission trip. Four years ago.”
“Your very first one?” Jennifer exclaimed. “I’d imagine having such a scary experience might have made you think twice about going on another one.”
“Life can be pretty scary in the US too. Can’t let it keep you from living.”
Jennifer nodded, and Daniel detected a trace of sympathy aimed at Annabelle as all amusement left both their faces. He figured they must be thinking of some of the violence, especially in big cities, that sent people to the ER no matter where they lived.
She quickly changed the subject to more mundane conversation about the hospitals where she and Jennifer worked, and he only half listened as he thought about Annabelle. Her first mission trip had been only four years ago, and she’d told him...what? That this was her ninth one? That was a lot of vacation time taken for this kind of trip. Most women he knew from both Peru and the US who had the means preferred taking spa vacations or trips to exotic locations. Just as he was about to ask her where else she’d gone on mission trips, and why, his cell phone rang.
He glanced down and nearly cursed when he saw it was the general surgeon from a Lima hospital that he’d asked to open the currently closed clinic near Huancayo for the duration of this trip. Not a conversation he wanted to have in front of everyone.
“Excuse me a moment,” he said, getting up to stride to the hotel door. As he did so, he swore he could feel Annabelle’s blue eyes drilling a hole in his back, but of course that was his imagination.
“Thanks for calling, Eduardo. So, are you able to take a week or so to work in Huancayo?”
“Good timing from this end. I can be there the day after tomorrow, with Alan Velasco coming to do anesthesia with you at your clinic the same day.”
“Glad to hear it. Thanks for making that happen. When I learned that the Huancayo clinic hadn’t been open for over a year, I knew we should get a surgeon up there if at all possible. So I appreciate you going.” And never mind that lack of recent care wasn’t the only reason he’d wanted to get it open for business.
“We Peruvians have to look after our own when we can, right? Alan and I’ll be at your clinic on Tuesday with a nurse who’s agreed to help me, then I’ll take the anesthesiologist you want working with me down to Huancayo.”
Peruvians looked after their own? He knew that wasn’t always true. Those like his own family with education and wealth and privilege were certainly well taken care of. But those living in poverty on the other side of the infamous wall of shame in Lima that had been compared to the Berlin Wall? The deeply poor living in the many remote towns in Peru that the various mission groups were devoted to help? Not so much.
“Thanks again. I’ll let Dr. Richards know she’ll be helping get the clinic open in Huancayo. See you when you get here.”
He should be elated, since this was exactly how he’d hoped it would all turn out. Instead, a small knot formed in his gut as he pondered how to talk to Annabelle about the change of plans. But surely, if he played it right, she’d be happy to be helping patients in a part of the country that hadn’t received medical care or surgeries for a long time. Right?
Daniel shook off his unease and headed back toward the hotel. Whatever he was feeling was ridiculous and made no sense. He’d have a top-notch anesthesiologist working with him on the delicate heart surgeries, and more children and adults with health problems would be seen during the next couple of weeks in Huancayo, where the need was real. Annabelle might never know he’d been the one to get the clinic open but even if she did, she’d probably assume it had come about organically, without any agenda other than having more doctors available to care for more patients. A win for everyone.
The shining halo of Annabelle’s pale blond hair shone through the falling darkness in front of the hotel, just as it had at dawn this morning, spilling to her shoulders in silky waves. His steps slowed as he thought through how he was going to tell her about the change of plans in a way that would make her feel fine about it. Then stopped completely to watch her crouch down to a feral cat, offering it a morsel of food that had it purring and rubbing against her ankles. The sexy roundness of her bottom and hips caught his attention, and the sweet, low sound of her voice crept under his skin.
“Ah, you’re such a little sweetie, aren’t you?” she cooed, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The hotel manager told me not to feed you, so this is just between us, okay? No more meowing out here in the middle of the night. Got it?”
In answer, the cat flopped onto its back, purring even louder, and Annabelle laughed softly as she scratched its belly, an indulgent smile on her face. “I can tell you’re going to get me in trouble. Just so you know, I’m going to swear it wasn’t me giving you treats. We’ll blame Daniel Ferrera instead, but you have to back me up on this.”
“Won’t work,” Daniel said, a smile twitching his lips even as he wanted to ask her why she’d put the blame on him instead of someone else staying in the hotel. “I’m now a witness to your illicit activities.”
Annabelle jumped to her feet, twisting to face him, and her alarmed and guilty expression nearly made him chuckle. “Oh! Dr. Ferrera. Why are you sneaking up on people in the dark like that? You startled me.”
“My apologies. I didn’t realize it could be considered sneaking since I was walking in full view on the designated path to the front door.”
“Well, it’s almost dark and you should have made more noise.”
“So I wouldn’t hear you plotting against me?”
She folded her arms across her chest and stared him down. “If I did plot against you, it would be tit for tat, wouldn’t it? However, I’m not that kind of person.”
“Uh-huh. No way am I going to be the fall guy if a cacophony of meows wakes up the whole hotel.”
“I was just kidding about blaming you. Even though you blamed me for something that wasn’t my fault. Or at least was only partially my fault. But that’s long over with and I’m going to put it behind me. No plotting against you.”
That knocked the smile off his face because, yeah, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say he was plotting against her, given everything he’d orchestrated to get her services transferred to the other clinic.
“Anyway,” she continued in a stiff and professional voice that had him regretting that their light banter was obviously over, “what’s tomorrow’s surgical schedule?”
“Full day again,” he replied. “We need to get going no later than seven to fit them all in, especially since a couple of the diagnostics we were given aren’t very clear. May find some surprises during surgery that will take longer than we expect.”
“That happens about fifty percent of the time anyway,” she said as she slung the small green backpack over her shoulder that she seemed to carry everywhere.
“True.” Now was the time to tell her about the new plans for her upcoming trip to Huancayo, and he hoped she was perfectly fine with it, not figuring there was anything to it other than helping more people. He drew a breath, only to expel it as he watched her move the backpack strap down to the crook of her elbow, her face scrunching up a little with obvious discomfort as she reached to massage her neck and shoulder. “Is your arm hurting you?”
“I don’t want to say.” Her voice was mulish even as she winced. “Especially to you.”
“Why not?”
“What procedure does our first patient need?” she asked, ignoring his question and dropping her hand from her trapezius muscle. “I want to be ready with everything so we stay on schedule and maybe even catch up a little.”
“Four-year-old has coarctation of the aorta, but I suspect we may find more issues during surgery, as the imaging isn’t very good. Tell me why your arm hurts.”
“I took a swing at an arrogant, holier-than-thou doctor in the States just before leaving there. Very satisfying, but I miscalculated the impact on my own body.”
“Uh-huh. I know you wanted to take a swing at me five years ago, maybe even with a long, sharp knife. But since you didn’t, violence doesn’t seem to be your answer to conflict.” He reached to fold her hand into a fist and tapped it against his chin. “However, if you want to punch me now and get it out of your system, go ahead. I can take it.”
A short laugh, then a scowl, before she yanked her hand back. “No, thanks. That would probably just make you happy in some perverse kind of way, and give you another reason to dislike me or get me fired again. Forget it.”
“Then tell me about your shoulder.” He stepped closer and could smell the faint scent of soap from her shower before dinner. “Or let me guess. You don’t want to tell me that you’re in pain because you wrenched it carrying the monitor I criticized you for.”
Surprised blue eyes lifted to his, her pretty lips parting. “I knew you had superpowers in the operating room, but it’s scary to think you have mind reading powers, too.”
“Simple observation and medical skills. But if I did have mind-reading abilities, what would I be learning?”
“That I don’t like you?”
“Something I already know. What else?”
A long pause had him convinced she’d change the subject, or turn and walk back into the hotel, until she finally spoke on a sigh. “That I sometimes bite off more than I can chew, and hate it so much when I do.” A deep frown lowered over her silky eyebrows. “And I’ve paid for this one multiple times, believe me. First with stressing over all the missed flights, then with not being able to get to a meeting in Lima that I really need to make happen. And I’m still not sure how I’m going to be able to get it rescheduled. Then missing the first day of surgery, which I worried about a lot, even though you probably don’t believe that. On top of that, yeah, I wrenched my shoulder trying to carry the monitor to the OR in a hurry. And the worst thing of all? Letting it show so you can smirk at me about it.”
“I would never smirk at you or anyone else who’s in pain. I’m a doctor, for heaven’s sake.” While he knew all the reasons she didn’t like him, he hadn’t realized she thought he was the kind of colossal jerk who would delight in someone’s pain. “Come here and let me see.”
“What?” She jerked back as he stepped close. “No.”
“You can’t function as well in the OR if your shoulder is stiff and painful. And since it’s important for everyone to be at peak performance during surgeries that last for hours, I’m going to give you a deep-tissue massage that should help.”
“I don’t want or need a massage.” Her expression was more alarmed than a simple shoulder massage should have warranted, displaying a vulnerability at odds with her stern words. “It’s fine. Really. And frankly it’s a bad idea for colleagues to go around touching one another, especially when anyone could be watching.”
“Anyone watching would see it as impersonal physiotherapy done in a very public place, right outside the hotel front door. Are you always so stubborn? Or are you worried that I’m coming on to you? I know that probably happens a lot but, believe me, I have no interest in you other than that you do your best tomorrow during the long hours we have to work.”
“An interest in me other than to ruin my career would never cross my mind, Dr. Ferrera. And the feeling is mutual.”
“Good. So quit arguing and turn around.”
CHAPTER THREE (#ue02ea741-c5f4-54a3-8632-0086ee69c912)
WHY SHE ALLOWED him to turn her around, then press his fingers deeply into her shoulder muscles, Annabelle had no idea. But even as she told herself it was weird to do this, that she should just turn to head for the hotel doors and disappear to her room before the man started criticizing her again, she found herself standing stock still instead as she absorbed the feel of his hands.
Lord have mercy. Was this why people spent their hard-earned money to get a massage? She couldn’t believe how incredibly good it felt, as though his palms and fingers were magical instruments, kneading and pressing until the tightly knotted muscles began to loosen. His warm breath skimmed her neck as he worked, and it all felt so wonderful, every other thought in her head disappeared, and all worries along with it. Slowly tipping her head from one side to the other, she nearly moaned with the pleasure of those talented surgeon’s hands firmly moving on her neck and over her shoulders, working their way down to press against her spine.
“Take a deep breath, then blow it out. Then again.”
She obeyed, her eyelids fluttering closed at the sensations, even as a tiny part of her mind managed to ask why she was allowing annoying Daniel Ferrera to give her this amazing massage, professional and impersonal or not.
“Good?” he asked, his voice a low murmur in her ear.
“Mmm... Yes. Good.” That breathy word didn’t begin to cover it, but her brain wasn’t functioning well enough to come up with something else. His cheek almost brushed hers, so close she could practically feel the warmth of it radiating against her skin. Each time she drew breath his delicious scent filled her nose. Just as she was sinking so deeply into the sensory overload that she nearly forgot where she was, he abruptly removed his hands and stepped back.
Nearly swaying at the suddenness of it, she blinked and slowly turned toward him, surprised to see he looked oddly grim instead of satisfied that he’d helped the knots unkink. “Um, thank you. That did help a lot, I have to admit.”
“Good.” He ran that wide hand of his through his hair as he seemed to concentrate on something over her head. She glanced over her shoulder, and when she saw nothing there, turned back to see Daniel, now standing with his hands in his pockets, staring at her. “Listen. I want to talk to you about the phone call I got a little while ago.”
Something about his tone set an alarm clanging in her head, though she couldn’t say exactly why. “What call?”
“There’s a clinic near Huancayo that hasn’t been staffed and ready to see patients in over a year. A surgeon friend of mine wants to open it while we’re here so he can do things like hernia and gallbladder surgeries that are urgently needed by people in the area. He needs an anesthesiologist. I told him you’d probably be fine with going there.”
“I don’t understand. You can’t do surgeries here without me.”
“Alan Velasco, an anesthesiologist friend from Lima that I’ve worked with a number of times before, is going to come here to take your place. So we’ll be able to take care of a lot more patients than we’d originally thought, with both clinics open. Which is good news.”
Cool and impassive was the only way to describe his expression, and there was something peculiar about it. Something that didn’t quite fit with this new opportunity. “When would this happen?”
“Alan said that he and the surgeon, Eduardo Diaz, could be here the day after tomorrow. So, soon.”
Her heart lurched as she pondered how that could possibly work. She absolutely had to get the meeting she’d missed in Lima rescheduled before she went back home. Before the school she wanted to save closed for good and got knocked down by a wrecking ball, which would happen in just two months if she couldn’t pull her plan together in time.
What if the doctor and CEO at the hospital in Lima who were interested in partnering with her wanted her to be there a specific evening after work to hear the details? She needed to be close enough to go running if they found time to squeeze her into their schedules.
About to ask more questions and explain why going to Huancayo might not work for her, she paused to study him. Really looked at his chiseled jaw and handsome features, the deep brown of his eyes that she’d thought were beautiful and mesmerizing when she’d first met him in Philadelphia long ago. Every woman in that hospital had swooned over Dr. Daniel Ferrera. And, yeah, she’d secretly been one of them until she’d learned his amazing attractiveness on the outside was the polar opposite of his personality.
Reading people and their body language, carefully listening to verbal cues and paying attention to their eyes, their expressions, had been an essential survival skill for Annabelle growing up. Studying him now, her antennae went on red alert, telling her something was really off here. She let herself absorb it, think through whatever subtext there might be between the lines of his actual words.
Then the Aha! came like a sledgehammer to her chest. The shock of it, along with the intense burn filling her gut and the heat scorching her head, finally had her seeing right through the jerk.
“You arranged this, didn’t you? You hate working with me so much that you’ve arranged for me to go to the other clinic so you could work with this Alan guy.”
“I don’t hate working with you. I simply saw this as an opportunity to have more patients get the surgeries they need.”
“That is such bull! I’m not stupid, Dr. Ferrera, even though you clearly have always thought I am. You worked all this out, no doubt smug as hell as you did it, convincing yourself it was perfectly fine and somehow win-win because more patients will be seen, no matter how wrong your motivation is.”
“It is a win-win. Alan has a lot of experience with heart surgeries, and you’ll be helping people who need medical procedures and advice near Huancayo. That’s it.”
“That is so not it. Do you spend your life manipulating everyone and everything around you? Always able to convince yourself you’re doing it for your patients, instead of out of some nasty need for complete control?” Shaking now from the top of her head to the soles of her feet, Annabelle jabbed him hard in the sternum, wanting so much to punch him instead, just as he’d offered to let her do earlier. The only time she could remember being this upset and furious had been the last time Daniel had screwed her over.
“You stink as a human being, you know that? You really do. I’m contacting the mission heads about this. If they go along with what you want, which everyone seems to do, I’ll work in Huancayo. But I’m telling you right now that I may have to leave there to get to an extremely important meeting in Lima, which is a lot longer drive from there than from here. Once I have it scheduled, I have to get there, and I don’t care how you feel about that. I’d rather not leave the clinic without an anesthesiologist, but you’re the one creating this situation.”
“Is this much drama really warranted, Dr. Richards? I’d think you’d be glad to not work with me. Less stress for you in the OR,” he drawled. “I’m not creating a situation. I’m getting a clinic open to serve more patients. I thought you’d be as pleased about that as I am.”
“Seeing more patients is always good. But there’s an agenda attached to that, and it has to do with me,” she said between her teeth. “Just so you know, when I contact the mission management, I’m telling them about how you think your surgeon status makes you godlike. But you know what?” Lord, she hated that her voice quivered, making her sound weak. “You’re not a god. You’re not, no matter how much you want to play like you are.”
“I have no illusions of being a god. If I was, my life would be different, believe me.” All cool relaxation left his voice, the harsh planes of his face looking etched from stone. “Maybe it’s past time for you to see that none of this is about you, and never has been. It’s always been about the patients facing death. Facing pain and suffering and lifelong complications. About the people who love them and who are devastated when a surgery goes wrong, or a condition is left untreated. About those left behind having to pick up the pieces of their lives. It always has been, and always will be, and I have to believe you care about them as much as I do.
“I’ll see you in the OR in the morning. Maybe you can get your meeting in Lima scheduled for tomorrow night. Then get your stuff ready so you can go to Huancayo with Dr. Eduardo Diaz when he gets here the day after.”
He swiveled toward the hotel, and Annabelle watched the back of his tall, broad form as he walked, his shoulders stiff, his posture proud. Watched the heavy hotel doors close, leaving behind the smothering cloud of disapproval. Of pity for who she was and convictions about who she could never be. It rolled over her, consumed her, until she couldn’t breathe.
Blindly, she stumbled to the pathway into the woods beside the hotel, sucking in air.
We heard you’re homeless again, Annabelle. Can you tell us how many different schools you’ve attended this year?
Let’s see what clothes are in the office storage closet, Annabelle. We’ll just throw away the ones you’re wearing.
Go to college? That’s just silly, Annabelle. You need to set realistic goals.
She smacked her palms against the rough bark of a wide tree. Rested her forehead against it and gulped air, welcoming the painful prickling against her forehead.
Only one person in her life had believed in her back then. One special high school guidance counselor who had seen past her dirty clothes and face. Noticed how focused she’d been on her studies, how she’d got good grades despite being yanked in and out of different schools every time her mother’s drug-and alcohol-fueled life had got messy, which had been most of the time. She’d learned early that the only way she would survive the hunger, the bad living conditions, being utterly alone when her mother left for weeks on a bender, was to be smarter, work harder than everyone else around her. To read and to dream.
That special counselor had introduced her to a group promoting medicine as a career path for high schoolers to consider. The instant she’d walked into that hospital, met doctors and nurses and technicians, had seen the amazing equipment and felt the busy, pulsing rhythm of the place as it treated people and saved lives, she’d known that becoming a doctor was all she wanted to do.
Everyone had constantly tried to send her in a different direction, warning her it wouldn’t be easy. And it wasn’t. But nothing ever had been. Working two jobs while going to college, then medical school, had been the best years of her life. For the first time, she’d believed all the dreams she’d had over the years could really come true. Had seen her path and run without stopping. Applied for every scholarship she could dig up. Worked hard to get the kinds of grades that added academic scholarships to the needs-based ones. Once she’d finished medical school and moved on to her training residency in Philadelphia, she’d been blessed with the mentorship and support of a few special doctors and administrators there. Wonderful people who’d found extra grant money for her to survive.
Her tough times were history. Behind her. Not who she was now, and not who she’d ever be again.
Except that wasn’t true, was it? A part of her would always be that poor little girl with filthy clothes and dirt on her skin being judged by everyone around her. Being found lacking, pathetic, incapable, no matter how hard she worked to try to prove she could be more than that.
For long moments she let herself wallow in the painful memories. The terrible, negative feelings. The ridicule and doubt. Remember the past that still clung to her shoes, no matter how hard she stomped her feet, or how fast she ran to knock off every embarrassing and ugly thing that proved her status as a misfit. And she prayed that, on top of everything else, Daniel would never know where she’d come from, and who she really was.
She drew in long, deep breaths. In and out. In and out. Using the meditation techniques that had helped her move into a world completely different from the one she’d grown up in. To find the steely determination she’d had to call on her whole life, her resolution that she’d go from being on the lowest rungs of society to someone who helped those still there. After long minutes she stiffened her spine and stood tall.
Dr. Daniel Ferrera was just a nasty bump from her past that she’d had the misfortune to run into again. But she wouldn’t allow him to hurt her, or make her think less of herself. Wouldn’t let him or anyone else make her forget why she was here. Wouldn’t waste another moment thinking about a man who chewed people up and spit them out with the excuse that he was doing it for a good reason.
She had important things to accomplish here, and one of the biggest was getting the hospital school meeting set up. She would do whatever it took to convince them of why they should partner with the Chicago hospital where she worked, and save the school, turning it into a charter school that offered medical career path options to poor, disadvantaged high school kids like she’d been, changing lives for the better in the process. The way her own life had been changed.
Once that was done she’d go to Huancayo and do the best she could there. Focus on the chance to help children and adults with problems that made it harder for them to live comfortably and happily.
It didn’t take a heart surgeon to make a difference in people’s lives. It just took someone with heart, and that was at least one thing she knew for certain she had enough of.
* * *
As much as Daniel tried to keep his interactions with Annabelle completely normal during surgery the next morning and throughout the day, the strain between them hung in the room like a thick cloud.
He’d always prided himself on being tough but fair. But something about Annabelle seemed to bring out an extreme version of his stern and unyielding side. The scowls she’d sent on and off all day made him start to hear it and see it in himself, and he knew that was something he had to fix.
Ultimately, the only thing that mattered was delivering the best care they could all give to each and every patient. Not anyone’s fragile feelings. After all, delicate surgeries weren’t a popularity contest or touchy-feely bonding with medical friends, they were about results.
But part of good patient care was having a cohesive team that worked well together. Something he’d allowed himself to forget when he’d first seen her here, letting his distrust of her overflow into the OR. Five years ago she’d earned his conviction that she shouldn’t be working on these kinds of surgeries, and he stood by what he’d said and done back then. But her work here had been good so far, and he should probably tell her that. Maybe it would make everyone on the team feel less stress in the OR.
One glance at her tight lips and stony expression as she removed the IV lines from their patient told him that fixing, at least a little, the rift between them wasn’t going to be easy. Maybe it was just too late, pointless even, since they wouldn’t be working together much longer.
Daniel drew in a deep breath and shoved away those questions to focus on the patient, checking to make sure all his vital signs were where they should be post-op. “He looks good. Nice job, everyone.” He pulled off his gloves and scrub cap, then rolled his head to relieve the tense kinks after hours of being mostly stationary during surgery, pausing briefly to look at Annabelle out of the corner of his eye as he did. He watched her face soften as she talked to the child and stroked his cheek, helping him awaken, and had to admit to himself again how wonderful her bedside manner was. Something not true of every anesthesiologist. “After he’s in Recovery, we’ll stretch our legs and break for dinner. Then I’d like to get one more in tonight.”
“I’m all for that,” Jennifer said as she cleaned the instruments. “I need a serious bellyful of food first, though. Who’ll be the last patient?”
“A little girl with patent ductus arteriosus,” he replied. “I thought about moving her down the list, maybe seeing her next time because she’s doing all right at the moment, but I figured since it’s going to be a comparatively easy and short surgery we can fit her in for the ligation tonight. What do you say we eat, then get back here in an hour so we can all get a decent night’s sleep afterwards?”
“No arguments from me,” Karina said.
He noticed Karina and Jennifer glanced at Annabelle, both looking a little concerned. Probably wondering if she’d eat with them, since she’d declined to join them at lunch. Maybe they knew as well as he did that it was because she didn’t want to make small talk with him. Since he didn’t particularly want to do that either, he wondered why it had bothered him that she’d eaten alone.
Annabelle didn’t say a word on their trek along the scrubby, rock-strewn path back to the hotel, even though the nurses chatted nonstop. The conversation sounded a little forced, and he had a feeling they were trying to make up for the discomfort hovering in the air.
Daniel couldn’t seem to keep his eyes off Annabelle, noting the way the hair tucked behind her ears was starting to curl, as it always seemed to do around this time of day once she took off her scrub cap. Even this late in the day, the temperature was still in the mideighties, which might be why he was sweating. Or maybe it was because he was trying to figure out what to say to her.
Except her attention seemed utterly focused on the path ahead of them. A focus so intense he couldn’t imagine how she managed to stumble over a stone, but he saw her toe catch just before she plunged headlong toward the rocky path.
His heart gave a jolt and he leaped toward her, shooting out his arm to grab her before she ended up falling flat and hurting herself. His other arm instinctively wrapped around her back as he yanked her upright, pulling her hard against his chest. The feel of her full, soft breasts pressing against him somehow had him folding her even closer as her startled eyes looked up into his. The moment lasted long, breathless seconds and he realized he didn’t want to move.
Her eyes seemed to reflect the same uncertainty he felt until she pulled herself free, nearly stumbling again in her haste to step away. The confusion he’d seen in her gaze morphed into an icy stare that seemed to instantly cool the temperature down about ten degrees. It was the kind of expression that the term if looks could kill was based on.
“You okay?”
“Fine. Thanks.” She took a few more steps away. “Listen, I kind of want to be alone for a while,” she said, directing her comment to Jennifer and Karina. “I’m going to grab some food from the hotel and eat by myself again. See you all back in the OR.”
He watched her hips sway as she hurried ahead of them; how she somehow made scrubs look almost sexy, he didn’t know. Feeling relieved that he wouldn’t have to figure out how to make small talk with her, or endure being shut out and ignored throughout dinner, he realized that, at the same time, disappointment filled his chest that she wouldn’t be at the table with them. Which made zero sense, and he disgustedly shook it off. He’d just have to make time later tonight to talk with her alone and try to clear the air.
“Is something bothering Annabelle?” Karina asked in a low voice.
“Not sure.” Jennifer glanced up at Daniel, and it was pretty clear she knew exactly what was bothering Annabelle. “I think she might be unhappy that the shipment of equipment hasn’t made it here yet.”
“What shipment?” Daniel asked, wondering if there really could be a reason she was unhappy besides her anger at him.
“She has that Med Mission Wishes nonprofit she set up a few years ago, you know? She’s been collecting the newest batch at her hospital for about three months, but for some reason what she wanted sent here hasn’t shown up yet.”
“Med Mission what?”
“Wishes. It might be available where you work, since she’s grown it so much. Bins are set up in hospitals for people to save all the stuff that would normally be thrown away but which can be used in places like this.”
“Such as?”
“Things like tubing and new syringes, airway stuff, outdated surgical tools, all kinds of things. You know how much is thrown out at home, even if it’s brand new and the hospital just has a new vendor or something.” Jennifer gave him a look that said he should know all about this nonprofit. “So she started the organization, and after a while it grew so much she pays someone to run it now. To get it collected and inventoried and warehoused in a building in Chicago. Then medical missions from all over the world buy it by the pound.”
“Ah, I remember you were about to say something about this before, but for some reason Annabelle didn’t want you to.”
“Usually she wants to tell everyone, to get them involved.” Jennifer gave him a pointed look that said she knew all about the issues between the two of them.
“She’s the one who started it?” He wanted to be clear on that, since he just might have to talk with her about it. It was a smart thing to be doing, and they definitely needed to bring it to his hospital in Philadelphia.
“Yeah, she was appalled by the waste when we barely have the minimum of what we need to make these clinics run. Their website shows all the places in the world where Med Mission Wishes materials are used now. I admire her so much, especially considering where she came from. I don’t know a single person working at these medical missions who cares more about the people we serve here. And about all the folks coming to the Chicago free clinics, too.”
“What do you mean, where she came from? Isn’t she from Chicago?”
“Um, yeah. She is.” Jennifer’s expression was suddenly cautious. “Anyway, hopefully the box of stuff will come soon. But if it doesn’t, we’ll have to get by with what she already brought. So, how about that dinner? I’m starved.”
Something about the abrupt way she changed the subject made him wonder why she had. Did Annabelle have secrets about her life that she didn’t want Jennifer to share?
“Me, too. Let’s go,” Karina said.
Suddenly, Daniel didn’t particularly want to eat dinner and make small talk with Jen and Karina any more than Annabelle had. Not when he should take this opportunity to talk with her about his realization that he’d perhaps been tougher on her than he’d needed to be. He wasn’t going to apologize for greasing the wheels for her to go to Huancayo, because he still felt that was a good plan all around.
But he would tell the woman she’d done a good job in the OR the past couple of days, and that he was also impressed with her vision and work on collecting equipment in the United States for these missions. He found himself eager to find out what he needed to do to have his own hospital participate.
“I’m going to find Dr. Richards to make sure she’s okay, and grab something to eat after I talk to her.”
Both women looked at him a little quizzically as they nodded and moved into the small hotel dining room. Probably they’d be gossiping about him and Annabelle and wondering if they’d make up or not.
Daniel moved up the path from the hotel through the trees to find Annabelle. Or at least he assumed she’d be somewhere along there, as it was the only path the goats had trekked enough to make it decent to walk on, with the rest of the hills covered in scrub brush and stones or steep, rocky inclines.
Just as he was wondering if maybe she’d somehow taken another route, he saw her sitting on the ground with her back against a tree, and paused. Her blond head was tipped downward, her hair skimming her cheeks. She took a last bite of whatever she’d been eating then brushed her hands down her chest then across her lap. His gaze became fixated on the slow movement of her hands moving down her chest a second time, molding the curves beneath her scrub shirt, nearly cupping her breasts, and a surprising flood of heat filled Daniel’s body as he pictured his own hands replacing hers.
No, not surprising. He and Annabelle might have their differences, but she was a beautiful woman and he was a warm-blooded man. Of course he found it impossible to not think about how she’d felt in his arms when he’d caught her earlier, those lush curves pressed against his body. To wonder what it would be like to kiss her lips, so soft-looking now compared to how they usually looked when she spoke to him—compressed and irritated.
He found himself wanting to just stand there and watch her, because he knew that all that softness would disappear as soon as she saw him. But he’d come to talk to her about their conflicts and her nonprofit equipment collection, and he needed to make that happen while he had the chance.
His movement toward her must have caught her attention, as she lifted her gaze to his. Sure enough, her pretty lips pinched together and her gorgeous eyes narrowed. As far as she was concerned, he was obviously the enemy, and he didn’t know if there was a way to fix that, considering everything. But he had to try, to make the whole team more comfortable in the OR during the time she was still here.
“Before you go off on me, I have a couple things I want to talk to you about,” he said, lifting his palm to stop whatever angry comment she was clearly ready to fling his way.
“What this time? Have you convinced the mission heads that I’m too incompetent to even work at the other clinic? Thrown your weight around the way you did in Philadelphia? Made a plane reservation for me to go back to the States right this minute, dragging a bad reputation home with me?”
“No, I want to talk to you about your good reputation.”
She folded her arms across her chest and glared. “Yeah, right. This isn’t a cold day in hell, you know.”
In spite of everything, his lips quirked at what a spitfire she was. “Doesn’t need to be a cold day in hell for me to tell you that you’ve done a good job here so far, and that I know you’ll do fine work at the clinic in Huancayo.”
A suspicious stare was her only response, and he forged on, hoping they could at least make a little progress toward having a better working relationship.
“And Jennifer just told me about your Med Mission Wishes organization. It’s a good thing, a valuable thing, and I should have thought of it myself. But since I didn’t, I’d like to find out how I can bring it to my hospital, too.”
“You’re not finding a reason to criticize me for it?” Her eyebrows rose in clear surprise, and there was no mistaking the skeptical look she sent him. “You want your hospital to participate?”
“Of course I wouldn’t criticize you for it. How could I, when it’s a brilliant idea? And you know the size of the hospital where I work, the amount of equipment we’d be able to donate.”
He dropped down onto the dirt and soft plants surrounding the tree to sit next to her. Because his back was tired from standing all day he let himself lean back against it, nearly shoulder to shoulder with her. It felt oddly comfortable, and he was glad she didn’t scoot away. “I want to get your bins set up there, learn about the distribution and where all it goes around the world. How to ensure some of it gets sent here, to the various clinics in Peru.”
“Having your hospital in the loop would be good. I already know you have an obnoxious amount of clout there and think everyone should do your bidding. But in this case it would be helpful.” She tipped her head and seemed to study him, and he found himself mesmerized by the little flecks of green and gold inside the beautiful blue of her eyes.
For what seemed like long seconds they just looked at one another. Apparently, she finally decided he was completely sincere, since the suspicious frown vanished. “All right. After I get home, I’ll send you all the information about how to sign up and how it works, and hopefully the hospital administrators will agree.”
“I’ll make it happen.”
“Always the autocrat.” She rolled her eyes. “But just this once I appreciate that about you. It’s a deal, though you or someone else from the hospital will have to earmark some of it for Peruvian clinics, as that’s done at the local level.”
“I’ll take care of that. Thank you.”
“You thanking me for something,” she murmured, looking up at him as though she genuinely found it incomprehensible. “Now, there’s a shock.”
“I’ve thanked you in the OR. I know I have. You only hear the negative when it’s me speaking.”
“Maybe. And with good reason.”
“Annabelle.” He found himself reaching for her soft hand without thinking, and was surprised she let it stay in his grasp. “I want us to have a good working relationship. Mutual respect is important to a smoothly operating OR, and even though it might irritate you to hear me say it again, a cohesive team is important for surgeries to go as well as possible.”
“I agree. The problem is, you don’t respect me.”
Along with the flash of frustration and indignation in her eyes, was he seeing something like self-doubt? In every one of their interactions, five years ago and here, she’d come out fighting for herself. Was it bravado, hiding some kind of insecurity? Was she not as confident as she seemed?
“I do respect you.” He leaned closer, wanting her to really hear him. “Today I realized that I haven’t given you the praise you deserve. I’ve seen that you’re good at your job and great with patients. It’s just that I need to know with one hundred percent certainty that everyone on a team doing open-heart surgeries is the absolute best. Surely you can understand that, after what happened before, I—”
His phone jangled in his pocket, and he nearly didn’t answer it, wanting to finish this conversation. Impatient, he fished it out and saw a number he didn’t recognize.
“Daniel Ferrera.”
“Dr. Ferrera, it’s Luciana, at the Huancayo clinic. I’m here getting it cleaned up and ready to open. A little while ago I was surprised when a family banged on the door. They heard we were opening and were worried about their eight-month-old. He’s been in respiratory distress, wheezing. Hasn’t been eating well. They thought he had a bad cold and might need some medication. So I listened to the baby’s chest, and I’m positive he’s in congestive heart failure. Luckily, we still have an old echocardiogram machine here, and it showed deep and wide waves. Seems to be ALCAPA.”
“Damn.” If Luciana was right, there was a real risk of sudden cardiac death for the child. “I need to get there. We’ll leave as soon as possible, but it’s at least a three-hour drive. I’ll bring the anesthesiologist we have here. You have the equipment we need?”
“No. There’s nothing here right now.”
“I’ll see what we have that we can bring. Expect us no later than eleven, and be ready to assist.”
“Got it.”
“We need to get to Huancayo tonight?” Annabelle’s question was asked in a matter-of-fact tone. Her angry expression and clear frustration with him was gone, replaced by a calm professionalism, and he had to give her credit for that. For putting work and patients before the emotions that kept flaring up between them.
“Yes.” They both started moving down the path toward the hotel. “The nurse opening the clinic said there’s a baby that needs surgery as soon as possible. We’ll have to take the equipment from here. I’ll do an inventory of what we have, to see if we have any extra that I can leave there.”
“Already done. I took a full inventory the first day I got here, including what I’d brought with me.”
“Good.” He felt a stab of shame at his ongoing doubts about her not being quite good enough at her job for him to feel confident in her. Noting all the equipment available was something usually done by nurses, not the anesthesiologist, not to mention she’d had the foresight to bring more. Then again, being organized in that way was a totally different thing than delivering anesthesia to the sickest patients during long and serious surgeries. “That will save us time, but I can’t imagine it’s enough for both places, is it?”
“Probably not. If only the stuff I shipped had gotten here already.”
“Yeah, that’s unfortunate. But from what you’ve said, it should be here soon, right? So it’ll be good to have on hand here after we get back. With more equipment coming, we can leave whatever we take to Huancayo. And I’ll see what Eduardo can provide when he gets there.” He stopped at the fork in the path. “Let’s start at the OR, getting stuff together, before we pack and take off.”
He shoved open the OR door and snapped on the lights. Annabelle quickly began pulling together the necessary anesthesia items as he gathered the surgical ones.
“Dare I suggest we take the monitor, or will you have another fit about it?” Annabelle asked.
“I don’t have fits. You make me sound childish.”
“Well, you know the saying, if the shoe fits...”
The little smirk she sent him took any sting from the words and he couldn’t help but grin back. “A part of me doesn’t want to see you gloat, but the mature part of me says to take the monitor. If it’s really ALCAPA, it’ll be a long, tricky surgery.”
“Acknowledgement that it’s handy to have is all I wanted to hear, Dr. Ferrera.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to say she still should have shipped it instead of being so late because of it, but hadn’t he decided to stop being so rigid and critical with her? So he kept his mouth shut and concentrated on making sure he had all the surgical supplies he’d need. He and Annabelle packed things so efficiently together he couldn’t help but think they were like a well-oiled machine, and neither interrupted their work even when the door swung open again.
“You guys are back fast,” Jennifer said, walking in with a big box in her arms. “Good news! Your package came, Annabelle. I’ll go through it tomorrow to see what all’s in here.”
“Can you do it now? We have an emergency surgery in Huancayo, and it would help to see what we can leave up there.”
“No problem. What should I tell the little girl and her family who were expecting her to get treatment tonight?” Jennifer asked.
Before Daniel could say anything Annabelle briskly and efficiently went through her mental roster of the next morning’s surgeries and suggested the best way to fit the young patient in. He couldn’t blame her for the look of triumph there, the slow curving of her mouth. “See, Dr. Ferrera? I’m not worthless at all. Maybe you’ll actually come to appreciate me.”
“Never said you were worthless, and as for appreciating you? It might surprise you to hear that just might be happening already.”
CHAPTER FOUR (#ue02ea741-c5f4-54a3-8632-0086ee69c912)
“THE CLINIC IS right around this next curve,” Daniel said, turning to Annabelle with a slightly tired smile. “I think we made good time.”
“Probably because you drove like a maniac. It’s a wonder I didn’t have a heart attack and need a cardiologist. Good thing there was one close by.”
A soft laugh left his lips, his eyes gleaming at her through the dark interior of the car, and she found herself staring at how much younger and more handsome he looked when he was relaxed and away from the OR. At least for the moment.
“I’d have let you drive except for that whole controlling streak of mine you’ve already noted.”
“And I’d have declined anyway, since I’m sure you’re the worst backseat driver in the whole world.”
Again, he laughed, and she had to quickly turn away from the unexpected charm of his smile. The same way she had the past three hours of semi-torture, sitting way too closely to the man who utterly confused her. One minute he was being a total jerk toward her, then the next he was sitting snugged up next to her against that tree and holding her hand in his large grasp. Sending a smile her way that was so sexy and attractive she’d nearly forgotten how much she disliked him.
All through the drive it had been a huge effort to not frequently glance over at his handsome profile. At his firm jaw and nicely shaped mouth. To not think far too much about how large and masculine he was. To not make too big a deal out of the seemingly sincere admiration in his warm, dark eyes as he’d looked at her beneath that tree and told her she was doing a good job and that he respected her.
Because, yeah, he’d then quickly followed that praise with a statement about needing the best anesthesiologist for difficult heart surgeries, and he clearly still didn’t believe she was that person.
The friendly banter on this car ride, completely different from the friction in all their exchanges before this, had thrown her off guard, making her see him in a way she didn’t want to. Her completely unexpected and unwelcome feelings of attraction to the man were a whole lot of stupid for a whole lot of reasons, and she wouldn’t let herself think about his sex appeal for one more second.
The car growled to a stop, and she was more than glad to have something else to focus on in the darkness of the night, when his shadowed shape next to her had been the only thing she’d been able to see and think about, the scent of him filling her nose the way it had earlier that evening.
She peered at the building in front of them, very similar to the one in Ayllu that she’d always worked in on her trips to Peru. The one she’d never dreamed Daniel Ferrera would end up working in, too. This one, though, looked a little more worn and neglected. Faded green paint peeled from the cement walls, exposed by a single, dangling bulb of light above the front step. Scrubby plants and weeds grew all around its perimeter, and the door was slightly off-kilter on its hinges.
“Looks like the front door doesn’t really close,” she said. “Not a good thing when it comes to keeping the space as sterile as possible.”
“Not a good thing for keeping creatures out either.” Another one of those smiles that made her ridiculous heart inexplicably flutter.
“Very true.” She reached for her seat belt, more than happy to get out of the car and away from the close proximity to Daniel. “I’d been congratulating your home country at the miles and miles of completely paved roads we drove on to get to Huancayo. Then we hit that last however many miles of dirt and rocks outside the city to get up here, and I’m pretty sure it might have jarred one of my teeth loose.”
“Don’t worry. I could probably perform emergency oral surgery if I absolutely had to.”
That startled a laugh out of her. “Thanks, but, no, thanks. I’d eat through a straw for the rest of my life before I’d submit to something so terrifying.”
“Smart woman.” Daniel sent her another quick grin before he pulled the monitor and oxygen tank from the back of the car, and it struck her that the past hours had been the first time she’d seen a smile on his face quite like that. Laid-back and friendly and genuinely amused. “Not to mention that we have a different kind of surgery to get to ASAP. Luciana said the child is inside, prepped and ready to go, so let’s get to it.”
Grabbing the rest of the items they’d brought for the surgery, including the cooler of blood bags, Annabelle followed him. She was determined to keep the conversation either light, like the tooth comment, professional, talking about how they would approach diagnosing the child’s problem to ensure they got it right, or nonexistent. Keeping somewhat of a distance between them and forgetting all about her sudden, peculiar attraction to the man.
His good looks couldn’t erase their former animosity, and certainly didn’t replace his ongoing doubts about her skills. Sure, he’d said he was finally coming to respect her more, but it had been too little too late, as far as she was concerned.
No, she’d shake off whatever it was that was making her feel so weird and just be glad they were forming a better working relationship. Because taking the best care of patients they possibly could was their whole purpose for being here.
Once inside the door, Annabelle tried to adjust her eyes to the space, lit just slightly by a small table lamp. Obviously, it was a small entryway that probably served as the greeting room for patients and families, the way the bigger space at the other clinic did. A wooden desk sat in front of a row of folding chairs, and the room had an antiseptic soap smell to it.
“Luciana’s obviously been at work cleaning this place up, probably with the help of locals. Last time I came, I was with the first crew to arrive and it was quite a battle to sweep out all the cobwebs and dust, along with a nest of baby opossums and their mother, who was not happy to have her family disturbed.”
“Is that what you meant by creatures coming in? Good heavens. Where were they?” That the man had actually helped clean this place and chase out marsupials was a surprise. She’d always viewed him as a guy who thought of himself as the holier-than-thou king of the OR, and not someone who would pitch in with that kind of grunt work.
“In a mostly empty supply box in the back. Got to admit, the tiny ones were cute, though the mother looked like a huge gray rat, with some seriously sharp-looking teeth.”
Annabelle couldn’t help an involuntary shudder. She’d never seen an opossum in real life, but she’d seen more rats than she cared to remember. Lying awake at night, wondering if one would jump onto her bed and run across her, was one of her least favorite childhood memories.
“Um, not to be a wimp, but I don’t think I’d be good at rounding up wildlife. I’d prefer scrubbing the floors on my hands and knees any day.”
“Doesn’t look like either one of us will have to work on our hands and knees tonight, which is a very good thing.”
She saw his gaze slide down her body and stop at her derriere, and his expression had a teasing quality to it, a little glint even, that took her by surprise and inexplicably made her heart start beating a little faster.
Stupid heart.
“Dr. Ferrera?” A small, dark-haired woman appeared in the doorway from the back room, and Daniel stepped toward her.
“Hi, Luciana. Nice to see you—it’s been a long time. Thanks for seeing the child and getting this place ready. Is our patient in the back?”
“Yes, and his parents, too. How about you speak with them, then I’ll send them home during the surgery?”
“Do they live close?”
“In town, so not too far. Since the surgery will take many hours, I told them they’d be more comfortable there. They didn’t want to agree at first, which I understand. Perhaps you can reassure them that it’s better if they go home and get some rest? That we’ll contact them when it’s over?”
He nodded before turning to Annabelle to introduce the two of them. From that moment on he was all business, moving into the back room to talk with the parents, who looked like they couldn’t be older than twenty or so. Clearly worried, they also looked intimidated, standing to talk to Daniel when he approached them. Annabelle couldn’t understand very much of what he said to them, but whatever it was had their faces relaxing slightly, their unsure expressions turning to gratitude as they both shook his hand.
Annabelle worked to get the equipment out and set up while Daniel looked at the EKG that Luciana had done, then examined the fussy baby. For long minutes he carefully listened to the child’s heart and lungs with his stethoscope, his brows lowered in deep concentration.
“Definitely heart failure,” he said, his gaze meeting hers. “Good thing we came. Thanks for being willing.”
“No thanks necessary. You know that.”
But it warmed her heart a little to be thanked anyway, silly as that was. Didn’t people thank one another all the time, barely noticing it? Lord, had the man made her become all needy for a little praise? Surely she wasn’t that pathetic.
Daniel listened to the infant’s chest again, and even from several feet away she could hear the wheeze as he cried. Maybe the baby would have lived quite a while with congestive heart failure, but it was more likely that he wouldn’t have. And that’s why they did these missions, wasn’t it? To save lives.
Finally, Daniel pulled his stethoscope from his ears and raised his head to look at Annabelle again. “I don’t think there’s any doubt it’s anomalous left coronary artery from the pulmonary artery. Good call, Luciana. In an ideal world we’d do more testing, but we have no choice but to open him up and see what we find, then get it fixed.”
“Ready with the gases and IVs, Doctor,” Annabelle said.
He gave her a nod then shocked her with another knee-weakening smile—had he ever smiled even once in the OR at the other clinic at any of the team? She was pretty sure she would have remembered if he had. Then again, for some reason his lips and jawline and those warm brown eyes were attracting her attention in a whole new way. Something she absolutely had to squelch.
Annabelle sucked in a meditative breath as he turned away to speak to the parents again, his voice a calming rumble. More hand shaking, then the couple were gone, leaving the three of them to scrub, gown and finish prepping the space.
“Do you know this family, Luciana?”
“I didn’t know them, but I do know the baby’s grandmother. She goes to my church, and I’d posted there about the clinic opening in a few days, which is why they came up.”
“Sounds like it was all meant to be that we’re here doing this tonight. You two ready?”
Luciana nodded, and Annabelle placed the mask over the baby’s nose and mouth. Once he was asleep, she put the IV lines into his tiny arms and legs, and the central line into his neck. After carefully checking his vitals, she nodded at Daniel. “All set.”
Together, they all did their jobs meticulously, with Daniel exposing the baby’s small heart and beginning the intricate surgery with steady hands, Luciana assisting. “Looks like he already has some tissue death from lack of oxygen, poor little guy. But we’ll get him fixed up, as close to perfect as we possibly can.”
* * *
Long past midnight and hours into the surgery, Annabelle quelled a big yawn, wishing she had a giant cup of coffee. She blinked hard, briefly moving her attention from the baby’s vital signs to look at Daniel’s intense eyes above his surgical mask. No sign of fatigue there, just an impressive, unwavering focus.
She’d participated in many delicate and skilled surgeries, though most had been more like what they’d been doing in Ayllu, and not quite as complicated as this. And every single time she felt awed by the steady hands, the years of training it took to perform such detailed work.
She loved her job but honestly couldn’t imagine doing what the cardiac surgeons did day in and day out. A special breed of doctor, for sure.
He literally held this baby’s life in his hands. She did too, but it was different. Administering then carefully monitoring the anesthesia throughout surgery kept the child safe and made the procedure possible. But to be able to restructure a tiny heart so it could function normally?
Truly amazing.
He’d talked about a surgical team needing to respect one another and the admiration she felt for him at that moment welled up in her chest as she watched him work. As it did, a revelation struck her right between the eyes.
For the first time she fully understood Daniel’s perspective from five years ago.
She’d made a huge mistake, there was no doubt about that. And if he, or any other surgeon, didn’t feel confident that someone on their team was capable enough, the life they were responsible for could be lost. What had happened back then might have technically been partly her resident’s fault, as well as her own. But when it came right down to it, the buck had stopped with her, the same way it did for a talented surgeon like Daniel.
He’d said that sometimes patients didn’t get second chances. That horrible day, theirs nearly hadn’t. And maybe that really did mean he’d been right. That she hadn’t deserved a second chance either.
Still absorbing all that and letting it sink into her brain, she pulled her attention from the fierce focus on his face. When she looked at the baby’s vital signs again, she sat straighter and stared.
“Doctor, your blood loss is ahead of where it needs to be.”
“Okay. Working on it.” He nodded, keeping his intent attention on his work.
Her throat tightened as she glanced at the blood-pressure monitor again, not liking one bit the continued drop in pressure. Not only did they clearly need more blood to compensate, they might need even more than she’d originally thought. Thank God she’d brought a good supply.
She hurried to retrieve a bag from the blood box, along with a second bag so it would be ready to hang if the first one didn’t do the trick. Trying to work as fast as possible without making a hasty mistake, she got the first bag attached and released more blood and medicine into the child’s IV lines.
“I’m having some trouble controlling the bleeding,” Daniel said. “Hang another five hundred cc of blood.”
“Just did. I have another one here ready to go. I’m pushing some meds to help.”
For a split second his brown gaze lifted to hers, before he gave her a short, nodding salute.
“I’m going to need it. Wait just a couple minutes then go ahead and hang the second bag.”
“Will do.”
Relieved that the baby’s blood pressure had normalized but still keeping a careful watch, the surgery took one hundred percent of Annabelle’s focus. Two more hours passed until finally Daniel had the wound closed and secured, with Luciana helping to finish the bandaging. When they were ready, Annabelle removed the IV lines and slowly awakened the infant.
Daniel snapped off his gloves and pulled down his mask. The slow, deliberate way he lifted off his scrub cap showed he felt as dead tired as Annabelle did, which was hardly a surprise since it was almost 4:00 a.m. Despite the lines and shadows etched around his eyes, their brown depths looked elated as his gaze met hers for a long moment before turning to the nurse. “We did it, ladies. Luciana, great job assisting. Where have you worked?”
“I’ve been a surgical assistant at two different hospitals in Lima for a long time. But Huancayo is my hometown, so I was happy to come here to help get the clinic open again.”
“Is there another nurse who can come here tomorrow to help care for him post-op?”
“I don’t know. I’ll see if I can find someone, but I’ll take care of him if I can’t.”
“I’ll also talk to Eduardo to see if he has anybody. There’s no way you can take care of this little guy and deal with more patients all by yourself once the clinic is open. Not to mention you’re going to need some sleep.”
“All of us do,” Luciana said with a tired grin. “But for tonight I’ll stay here with him.”
“No, we’ll stay. Or I will, at least,” Daniel said. “Do you have a place close by you can sleep?”
“I have relatives here, and have been staying with my mama since I arrived. I want to thank you both again for coming so fast. For being here at all. The little one might not have lived long if you hadn’t decided to open the clinic. It’s been closed for such a long time. I can tell you the people here appreciate it more than you can imagine.”
Daniel’s eyes met Annabelle’s for a long moment, and she saw they were lit with emotions. Satisfaction. Appreciation. And a slight smugness that told her that he was remembering what he’d said to her when she’d been so angry about being sent off to this place to work. That when her time here was finished, she’d be glad to have taken care of the patients in need, and whether she did it at the other clinic or here didn’t matter.
And, yeah, she couldn’t deny she was glad.
“I need to call the parents. Do you have their number?”
Luciana recited it, and Daniel went into the other room to speak to them. Annabelle could hear his low, lilting Spanish and let herself enjoy the cadence of it, the warmth she hadn’t noticed enough before.
She and Luciana again checked the baby’s IV lines, oxygen, breathing and other vital signs, before finally stepping back and smiling at one another.
“Not out of the woods yet, but he seems to be doing really well,” Annabelle said. “He’ll have to be carefully monitored, of course, and I feel like we should stay part of the day tomorrow to help you.”
“I know you have surgeries scheduled at the other clinic, but a little time here would be good. But didn’t Dr. Ferrera say you were going to be here to work with Dr. Diaz at some point anyway?”
“I assume that’s still the plan, but we’ll see.” Maybe a certain arrogant and extremely talented surgeon was finally ready to acknowledge that she knew what she was doing, even during the most intricate surgeries.
On the other hand, maybe she should ask to come here after all. The peculiar feelings rolling around in her tummy whenever she looked at Daniel might mean working with Dr. Diaz would be a good idea.
“I told the parents there was no need for them to come back right now, that sometime in the morning would be fine as he’ll be sedated for quite a while,” Daniel said as he came back into the room. It seemed he was talking to both of them, but his eyes were on Annabelle.
“Isn’t it already morning?” Annabelle joked, trying to cover up the way her heart pitter-pattered at the way he was looking at her. Or how she imagined he might be looking at her. In a way she shouldn’t want him to be looking at her.
Or maybe she could, but for very good reasons she absolutely wasn’t going to go there if he was.
One side of Daniel’s mouth tipped up as he glanced at his watch. “Definitely morning. Just a couple of hours earlier than your usual wake-up time, Dr. Richards. Maybe not too early for some yoga to get you mentally centered for the day?”
“Only if you join me. I’ll teach you some moves that’ll help you with that grouchy controlling streak of yours.”
“Moves?”
“Yoga moves,” she hastily supplied, her face heating at the way the other side of his lips curved at the same time one eyebrow rose. Who would ever have thought the grim and ultraserious Dr Ferrara would make a quip like that? “A few of my favorite asana poses, then we’ll end with the corpse pose to relax you.”
“Corpse pose? What doctor dealing with life and death would want to do that?” He stepped closer. “Isn’t there any yoga that would energize me? Because that’s what I need right now.”
Annabelle’s stomach quivered at the teasing glint in his eyes. What in the world was happening here? Had she fallen into some alternate universe where Daniel was like a normal man and not the intense perfectionist who was always so serious?
Luciana looked from one of them to the other, obvious confusion on her face. “You wish to do yoga? I have some extra blankets in the back if you want to put them on the floor.”
“No, no, Dr. Ferrera and I are just kidding. Probably. We’re both half-delirious from lack of sleep.”
“Yes, we all need a little sleep,” Luciana said, smiling again. “There is just the one bed here, with clean sheets I put on today. Dr. Richards, you are welcome to come home with me. My mother’s house is small, but we will be honored to have you take the bedroom.”
Thinking about the last few minutes of strangeness, Annabelle had barely listened to what Luciana had said. Until the words one bed finally seeped into her brain, making it stumble in panic. No way was she sleeping in a bed with Daniel!
But she wasn’t going to take Luciana’s only bedroom either, and trying to get checked into a hotel room in Huancayo at 4:00 a.m. didn’t seem too appealing or practical as a third option.
“Thank you so much for the kind offer but Dr. Ferrera and I will figure out the sleeping arrangement here. Don’t worry about us.” Though suddenly she was worrying plenty. “I guess we’ll see you sometime tomorrow?”
“I just need a few hours’ sleep to feel alert enough to care for the bambino. When did you say Dr. Diaz is coming here?”
“I need to double-check to see how long he thinks the travel will take,” Daniel said, his expression now impassive. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
“Adios, then. See you about nine o’clock.”
“Give yourself until ten. Still not enough sleep, but we have a pretty big patient load back at Ayllu, and we’re already behind so we’ll all have to work a little tired.”
“Of course. Thank you again. Buenas noches.”
With Luciana gone, the room seemed to shrink to the size of a broom closet, the sound of the baby’s oxygen machine loud and rhythmic. Daniel’s eyes met hers with a magnetic pull so intense she nearly swayed forward.
“We need to get a little sleep while the baby’s sedated,” he said, stuffing his hands in his scrubs pockets. “The monitor will wake us up if something changes in his vital signs.”
“The monitor you yelled at me about.” She wanted to get back to their usual status quo. Sparks flying from arguing instead of sparks caused by something else entirely.
“I never yell. I simply pointed out that we’ve done more surgeries than I can count without one here.” His lips curved in a slow smile that was so not status quo. Darn it. “But since you refuse to let the subject drop, I’ll admit it. I’m glad we have it here, and it’s been useful at the other clinic, too. You were smart to bring it.”
She dramatically slapped her hand to her forehead, partly to hide the surprised little glow his words put in her chest. “I feel a little faint. Did you say I did something right, and that you were wrong?”
“Saying it’s good we have it doesn’t mean I was wrong.”
“Of course not. Because you’re never wrong.”
His smile widened at the sound of disgust that came from her lips with her retort. “Rarely wrong. But there is one thing I was wrong about. You are an excellent anesthesiologist, and more than capable of taking care of the sickest patients during the longest surgeries. I’m impressed you caught the blood loss problem tonight, and instantly took care of it before I had to say something. So I apologize that I told you that I didn’t believe you were competent enough to be a heart surgeon’s anesthesiologist.”
All humor and discomfort and the sarcasm she’d been giving him disappeared. Her mouth dropped open slightly and she held up her hand, catching her breath before she could finally speak. “Wait a minute. So you’re saying that if you had it to do over again, you wouldn’t have kept me from getting the position I wanted in Philadelphia?”
“I did what I thought was right with the information I had at the time, which was that you’d made a critical error in the middle of a serious surgery. Something you can’t deny. So how did that happen?”
She looked down, not wanting to remember. Not wanting him to know any more of the details than he already did. After a long moment she forced herself to look into his eyes, steeling herself for what she’d see there. “You know it was my first month as an attending physician, wanting more than anything to get a permanent position at such an amazing hospital. It does so much good for every class of people, rich or poor, you know? It was my dream to work there. I...I wanted so much to prove myself. To impress everyone.”
She paused, swallowing down the pain of that terrible day. The deep disappointment in herself that she still felt all this time later. The horrifying proof that all the people who’d told her she’d never be good enough to become a doctor had been right.
He must have seen something of what she was feeling as he reached out to soothingly rub one hand up and down her arm as he spoke quietly. “Go on.”
“You might remember that they’d placed an anesthesia resident with me that day, and I felt I needed to give him an opportunity to actually make decisions instead of just watch or follow directions, the same way one or two attendings had done for me.”
“I barely remember the resident. Probably because I was concentrating on the surgery. But it’s also possible that I’d only noticed the beautiful new anesthesiologist who I knew had silky blond hair tucked under her cap, captivating blue eyes, and a body any man could easily get sidetracked by.”
“You noticed me?” she whispered, finding that incomprehensible. The thought made her heart beat hard in her chest. The anger she’d carried at him for all these years had pushed down the attraction she’d felt, too. Had tried to make her forget how often she’d caught herself staring at the tall, dark, cardiac surgeon with the muscular build tugging at his scrubs. Intrigued by the contrast between the all-business and often sharp man performing such detailed surgeries and the gentle doctor who’d appeared before and after when he’d spoken to his small patients and their families.
“Noticed you. Was attracted to you. Wanted to know more about you.” He closed the gap between them and took both her shoulders in his hands. “So you wanted to give the resident a chance to make some decisions. But I know it was you who administered the epinephrine.”
Briefly, she closed her eyes, hating to remember the biggest mistake of her career. A mistake that had nearly resulted in their patient dying. “Yes, it was me. I administered it. The resident gave me the wrong information and drew the wrong dose before handing it to me. I should have been paying closer attention, but stupidly I didn’t double-check. Didn’t see that he had it wrong. Until the child went into cardiac arrest, and through the flurry and panic you saved his life.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And in my anger toward myself, which I later projected toward you, I’ve never given you credit for that. So thank you for saving him. I can’t even imagine how it would have felt if you hadn’t.”
“Annabelle.” He squeezed her shoulders. “It was thanks to the whole team that we brought him back.”
Here he was, giving everyone credit when she’d been standing right there to see it had been his command of the situation that had brought the child back. That the way he’d immediately and expertly reacted, barking out orders to everyone, as he’d literally held the child’s heart in his hand and carefully massaged it to get it beating again had been the reason the child had made it. Thinking about her failure to monitor the resident and double-check the dose the way she should have made her feel sick all over again. Made her fall into the deep well of inadequacy she’d felt her whole life. That she’d fought so hard to climb out of to become the best doctor she possibly could be.
“It was my mistake,” she said looking into his eyes, her stomach knotting, knowing she’d see disdain there again. The condemnation she deserved. “My screw-up. The resident was my responsibility as much as the patient was. But I didn’t want anyone to know that, after all my hard work, I still wasn’t good enough. I...I did make myself admit it to the hospital administrators and senior anesthesiologist, hoping to get to stay on. To have one more chance to prove myself. I just never admitted it to you.”
Unexpected and very unwelcome tears stung her eyes, and she tried to swing away, hating to show that kind of weakness. She never cried. Had learned not to cry from the time she’d been little, because it just made people around you impatient or angry, and it never accomplished one thing other than to make your throat hurt and your nose run.
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Robin Gianna и Karin Baine
Тип: электронная книга
Жанр: Современные любовные романы
Язык: на английском языке
Издательство: HarperCollins
Дата публикации: 16.04.2024
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О книге: Tempted By The Brooding Surgeon: Tempted by the Brooding Surgeon / From Fling to Wedding Ring, электронная книга авторов Robin Gianna и Karin Baine на английском языке, в жанре современные любовные романы