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A Stallion's Touch
Deborah Fletcher Mello
The sweetest medicineNicholas Stallion's championship dreams are almost within reach. The star quarterback has lucrative endorsement deals, A-list friends and beautiful women on call…until a play-off injury changes his life. He's angry at the world—and butting heads with family friend Dr. Tarah Boudreaux. Yet the ambitious neurosurgeon's unwavering encouragement sparks an intimacy that blindsides them both.The Nicholas that Tarah met before the accident had wealth, fame and charm. All of that pales in comparison to the driven, determined man she's falling for now. And when a captivating first kiss leads to an intensely tender moment, she knows she's in way over her head. But with a jealous rival in the mix, Nicholas must be willing to make the ultimate play, or lose a love he had never dreamed of finding…


The sweetest medicine
Nicholas Stallion’s championship dreams are almost within reach. The star quarterback has lucrative endorsement deals, A-list friends and beautiful women on call...until a play-off injury changes his life. He’s angry at the world—and butting heads with family friend Dr. Tarah Boudreaux. Yet the ambitious neurosurgeon’s unwavering encouragement sparks an intimacy that blindsides them both.
The Nicholas that Tarah met before the accident had wealth, fame and charm. All of that pales in comparison to the driven, determined man she’s falling for now. And when a captivating first kiss leads to an intensely tender moment, she knows she’s in way over her head. But with a jealous rival in the mix, Nicholas must be willing to make the ultimate play, or lose a love he had never dreamed of finding...
“We’re standing under the mistletoe,” he said softly, a hint of laughter in his tone.
Tarah’s gaze moved from his face upward to where he pointed. A ball of mistletoe, brightly trimmed with evergreens and a red velvet ribbon dangled precariously above them. She turned her gaze back to his, staring into his dark eyes. “Christmas is officially over.”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “It still counts. At least until New Year’s.”
“Says who?”
“It’s an old family tradition. If you stand under the mistletoe, you can’t refuse to be kissed.”
“We don’t have that tradition in my family.”
“You’re in Stallion territory. In this house those are the rules.”
“Says who?”
“Says every man named Stallion in this family. Just ask them if you don’t believe me.”
Tarah crossed her arms over her chest, her stance widening as she faced him full on. It was a standoff of magnanimous proportions as they stared intensely at each other. Nicholas was actually taken aback when Tarah suddenly moved against him, pressing both her hands against his chest. The heat between them rose like a firestorm intent on vengeance.
Dear Reader (#ulink_6b886918-94da-5342-ba75-717d6ee361b0),
I am so excited about Tarah Boudreaux and Nicholas Stallion’s story that I could just bust! Pairing a Stallion with a Boudreaux came naturally once I discovered the Utah branch of the Stallion family tree. This connection felt all kinds of right!
A Stallion’s Touch is all about love. Love overcoming obstacles. Love unexpected. Love manifested from the deepest friendship. Tarah and Nicholas’s story is love in all its exquisite glory!
Family and faith are the cornerstone of all my Stallion-Boudreaux stories, and this one is no different. Faith and trust in a higher power are the reasons Tarah and Nicholas are able to transcend doubt and fears and overcome their trials and tribulations. Together they are fire and fire, and it doesn’t get any better than that.
Thank you so much for your continued support. I am humbled by all the love you keep showing me, my characters and our stories. I know that none of this would be possible without you.
Until next time, please take care and may God’s blessings be with you always.
With much love,
Deborah Fletcher Mello
www.DeborahMello.blogspot.com (http://www.DeborahMello.blogspot.com)
A Stallion’s Touch
Deborah Fletcher Mello


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
DEBORAH FLETCHER MELLO has been writing since forever and can’t imagine herself doing anything else. Her first romance novel, Take Me to Heart, earned her a 2004 Romance Slam Jam nomination for Best New Author. In 2005 she received Book of the Year and Favorite Heroine nominations for her novel The Right Side of Love, and in 2009 she won an RT Reviewers’ Choice Best Book Award for her ninth novel, Tame a Wild Stallion. With each new book Deborah continues to create unique storylines and memorable characters.


Contents
Cover (#u56886841-5806-550a-8329-914438130561)
Back Cover Text (#ue0f086f8-3038-53c6-8886-8e1d24c4a319)
Introduction (#ucd9079cf-c056-5442-acf6-163d6e4c1f08)
Dear Reader (#ulink_388fe0e7-3d22-58c8-852d-f96e3817a680)
Title Page (#u037257bd-8901-5f78-b276-28e61f15eef7)
About the Author (#u7aa041f2-a77b-5be7-801d-1c86cae91cef)
Family Tree (#u6c262b01-018b-5f82-9a34-d6de5612c69d)
Prologue (#ub2f29bb8-a7b9-50fd-9177-5155f28ea370)
Chapter 1 (#u89756b3d-8c1e-58d2-9fd6-17249c97baf5)
Chapter 2 (#u9358b860-9991-53a1-b22a-66a0087ba441)
Chapter 3 (#u6b8d34dd-a780-5bbd-8d1e-5b9e5404bc21)
Chapter 4 (#ude4b5614-8984-5e1e-9279-b75c8eb8a7dc)
Chapter 5 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 6 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Extract (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
Prologue (#ulink_cb4f899c-b491-575b-b574-b5f6cf9f920b)
Injection Bar was congested, overrun with medical students from Tulane University School of Medicine. The staff was working harder than normal to keep up. Tarah Boudreaux hated to add to the confusion but lifted her hand for the bartender’s attention. He was tall and blond with strong Nordic features and long windblown locks, and his denim jeans and bright white T-shirt fit like a glove. He tossed her a responsive nod and gestured with his index finger. Tarah gave him a bright smile and turned her attention back to the makeshift stage.
It was the third Friday in March, Match Day. The day when graduating medical students nationwide discovered the hospital residency programs they’d been paired with to complete their graduate medical training. Tarah had interviewed with five medical facilities across the United States and although she had narrowed the list down to her top two favorites, she would gladly have gone wherever the wind blew her.
She and her fellow classmates were following a time-honored tradition, announcing the hospitals they’d been matched with over the bar’s sound system. She clapped as another student with fire-engine-red hair and a lumberjack beard jumped excitedly when they called his name and waved him to the front.
“One Corona with a wedge of lime!” the bartender suddenly said, shouting over the noise into her ear.
Tarah jumped slightly, her smile still bright as she took the beer bottle from his hand. “Thanks, Milton! Put it on my brother’s tab, please?”
Milton laughed. “Kendrick said he’s not covering your bill any more, Tarah! You know that.”
Tarah rolled her eyes. “Today’s special! It’ll be okay! I promise!”
Milton shook his head. “I swear, girl, you are going to get me fired one day.”
Tarah giggled. “Thank you, Milton!” She gave him a wink of her eye, her lengthy lashes batting teasingly.
He nodded. “Congratulations! And tell your folks I said hello.”
Turning herself back around, Tarah settled into the nervous energy that filled the room. It had taken her nine years to get to this point. Four years of college and five years of medical school—including the two semesters that she’d had to repeat for partying too much—were culminating in this moment.
The Dean of Student Affairs suddenly called her name, waving a white envelope in his hand. Her classmates all cheered, and Tarah felt her knees begin to shake. She chugged back what remained of her bottled brew, then slid off the bar stool and sauntered to the microphone.
Every eye in the room was on her, and she could feel her hand shaking as the dean slid the envelope onto her palm. She took a deep breath and then a second as she slid her thumb beneath the sealed flap and pulled the typed letter from inside. Someone in the back suddenly called her name.
“Get it, Tarah!” And the whole room erupted with a uniform cheer.
She grinned as she quickly read the letter’s contents, and then her smile widened considerably. “Phoenix Hope Surgical Center!” she screamed, jumping up and down excitedly. “I’m going to Arizona!”
The room cheered with her as she rushed back to her seat to hug her friends. As the next person’s name was called, Tarah was still squealing with joy. She’d been matched with her first choice, and she couldn’t have been happier.
* * *
Katherine Boudreaux hugged her tightly, and Tarah melted into her mother’s warm embrace. “We are so proud of you, Tarah!” the matriarch exclaimed.
Tarah’s father, Mason “Senior” Boudreaux, echoed the sentiment. “My baby girl is going to be a surgeon! Hot damn!” he proclaimed as he wiped a tear from his eye.
Tarah was still grinning brightly. “I’m going to Phoenix! It’s the best surgical center and teaching hospital in the nation. And I’ll be training with Dr. Harper! He’s the neurosurgeon of neurosurgeons!” she said, referring to her medical mentor, whose visit to Tulane had inspired Tarah to consider Phoenix Hope in the first place.
Her mother gave her one last squeeze before letting her go. “We need to call the rest of the family to let them know your good news.”
“We could just wait until they come for graduation,” Tarah said, shrugging her shoulders slightly. “Or maybe just send a group text?”
The matriarch tossed her daughter a look. “Nonsense. This is good news. We need to let them all know, personally! Besides, it gives me a reason to call and check on everyone,” Katherine said as she took the telephone receiver into her hand and began to dial.
Tarah turned her attention to her father. “And I can stay at the house in Phoenix, right? That way I won’t need to find an apartment or worry about rent!”
Her father eyed her with a raised brow. The house in Phoenix that she was referring to was the Paradise Valley estate that was actually owned by her oldest brother, Mason Boudreaux III. Mason had bought the property a few short months after Hurricane Katrina when their family had been displaced from their Louisiana home. They’d all lived in Arizona for two years while their Broadway Street property and the city of New Orleans had been rebuilt. Leaving Phoenix had been bittersweet, but Louisiana would forever be home as far as her family was concerned.
Senior lifted his gaze back to her eager stare. “I don’t know about all that. Now that the real estate market has finally started to come back around, your brother has been thinking about selling that house. He and Phaedra like living in Dallas. I don’t see them going back there, and we definitely won’t be moving back to Arizona any time soon.”
“I’ll ask him. Mason will let me stay.”
“That house is too big for you to be living in by yourself,” Katherine noted, her hand cupped over the receiver of the telephone. “We’ll find you a nice studio near the hospital.”
Tarah shifted her gaze skyward. “I’m sure I can find a roommate or two or three.”
Senior’s gaze narrowed. “Now, that’s never going to happen. You and your doctor friends will not be tearing up that house like it’s a party palace.”
Katherine interjected, “I know that idea didn’t just come out of her mouth!”
“Can we at least discuss it?” Tarah shifted her gaze from one parent to the other.
Both answered at the same time, “NO!”
Tarah blew a heavy sigh past her lips. “I’m going to bed, then,” she said as she turned and headed toward the door. “But I’m still calling Mason tomorrow to ask,” she said.
“The answer is still no!” Senior called after her.
Behind her, Tarah could hear her mother’s laughter. “That’s your child. You’re the reason she’s so spoiled,” Katherine said.
“Leave my baby girl alone! That child is just perfect!” her father countered.
* * *
Upstairs in her bedroom, Tarah pinched herself, still in awe of how sweetly things had played out. She’d been accepted into the best teaching hospital in the nation. Phoenix Hope’s surgical program was in a league of its own, and the prospect of completing her medical training there was a dream come true. And to think, they’d chosen her from the thousands of applicants who’d wanted this opportunity just as much as she had. Tears welled hot behind her lids as the magnitude of that fact settled over her.
Sometimes perceived as spoiled and overindulged, Tarah, with her carefree spirit, didn’t often reflect on how seriously she’d taken her medical training. Tarah had wanted to be a doctor since she was six years old and her favorite pediatrician mended her broken arm with a pink cast and a cherry lollipop. Deciding to pursue a surgical vocation had come after a strenuous medical rotation that involved a heart transplant for an aspiring cellist. With the young man’s future renewed on the celebration of his eighteenth birthday, the knowledge that she’d had a part in it made the decision the easiest of her career. From that moment forward, Tarah had buckled down. Her studies were all that mattered.
After a quick shower, she pulled her shoulder-length curls into a tight bun and tied a silk scarf around her head. As she set her alarm clock, she swiped a hand across her face, wiping away the one tear that had finally fallen over her cheek. Minutes later, when her mother peeked in to check on her, Tarah was kneeling at the side of her bed, saying a prayer of gratitude toward the sky.
Chapter 1 (#ulink_ace6d508-425b-5ded-9fc7-c1be45645bf1)
Stallion Ranch, the former Briscoe family property, was well over eight hundred acres of working cattle farm, an equestrian center and an entertainment complex that specialized in corporate and private client services.
Edward Briscoe, the ranch’s original owner, had been one of the original black cowboys. Not long after the birth of his three daughters, Eden and the twins, Marla and Marah, he and his first wife had chosen to expand their Texas longhorn operation. They had added two twenty-thousand-square-feet event barns and a country bed-and-breakfast.
After Marah Briscoe’s marriage to business tycoon John Stallion, Edward had gifted the property to them. His daughter’s love for that Stallion had ended the corporate conflict that had brought the couple together in the first place. Under the Stallion family umbrella, the Briscoe property had grown steadily and was now a point of consideration for a number of government programs to assist children and families in need. But the ranch was also home to the Stallions, and the expansive property was truly a sight to behold. Even more so with the wealth of Christmas decor that lined the drive and decorated the extraordinary house.
As Nicholas Stallion pulled his brand-new Jaguar F-Type convertible into the circular driveway, joining the line of luxury vehicles parked in front of the home, he was duly impressed. Although it wasn’t his first time visiting his cousin’s home, each time was just as enthralling as that first. Coming together to spend time with his family made for a textbook feel-good moment, and Nicholas found himself excited to see what this year’s holiday celebration would bring.
Nicholas had met his Texas cousins as an adult, the two limbs of their family tree discovering each other after the sudden death of his mother, Norris Jean Stallion. Norris Jean had been estranged from her family, leaving behind her parents and two younger brothers to follow a man who took her for granted. Nicholas and his siblings had grown up in Utah, never knowing the family left behind in Texas. Some claimed it was Stallion magic that had reconnected them, and now the two branches of the Stallion tree and their extended Boudreaux family in-laws were as thick as thieves.
His cousin John, and John’s wife Marah, met him at the home’s front door, wrapping him in a warm embrace.
“Yo, Nicholas! How was the drive?” John asked, the two men bumping shoulders in a one-armed embrace.
Marah kissed his cheek. “Merry Christmas! It’s so good to see you again!”
Nicholas returned the greetings. “The drive was great! Santa brought me an early present, and she’s some sort of sweet,” he said as he gestured over his shoulder toward his new car.
“Very nice!” John exclaimed, shaking his head as he eyed the vehicle from the front porch.
A familiar voice sounded from the other side of the foyer. “You would have been here sooner if you’d caught a plane with the rest of us,” Nicholas’s twin brother, Dr. Nathaniel Stallion, exclaimed.
The twins both chuckled as they greeted each other warmly. “Am I the last one here?” Nicholas questioned.
“No, we’re still waiting for Tarah.”
A moment of confusion washed over the man’s face. “Who’s Tarah?”
“That would be my baby sister,” Mason Boudreaux interjected, suddenly joining the conversation. Mason was married to Nicholas’s cousin Phaedra, the only girl in the Dallas branch of the Stallion clan. “I didn’t realize a few of you still hadn’t met her until my mother pointed it out at breakfast this morning.”
“That’s what a medical residency program will do to you,” Nathaniel interjected. “I remember those days and the family events I missed.”
Mason extended his hand toward Nicholas. “It’s good to see you again, Mr. MVP!”
Nicholas nodded, a wide grin across his face. “You caught that, huh?”
“Who didn’t? That was a bold statement to make,” the other man exclaimed, referring to Nicholas’s most recent postgame interview about his prospective championship intentions.
“More like arrogant,” Nathaniel interjected.
Nicholas laughed as he shook his head. “Smoke and mirrors, bro! You have to give the fans a good show. Besides, I might as well claim the title if I aspire to it, right?”
His twin snorted, his eyes darting skyward.
Noise and laughter vibrated through the home’s interior. Marah waved the men aside. “You all need to let Nicholas get a seat before you inundate us with football talk.” She stole a quick glance at her wristwatch. “And it’s almost time for Santa’s helpers to start putting stuff together. We’ve got two Barbie dollhouses, some racetrack thing and at least six tricycles!”
John laughed. “I think we’ll probably have more fun with the football!”
Marah narrowed her gaze at him. She stood on tiptoe to kiss his lips, gently pressing her mouth to his. “I like football, too, but not all the time, and not when there are a million things that have to be done to pull off this holiday.”
John laughed as he gave her a light squeeze. “I’ve got you, baby! Don’t you worry about anything. I personally guarantee all your elves and Santa’s helpers will get everything on your list done before the chubby guy falls down that chimney!”
“Nicholas, are you hungry? There’s a ton of food,” Marah said, shifting the conversation.
“I could eat.”
“He never stops eating,” Nathaniel added. “We probably should have warned you!”
Marah laughed. “Naomi did,” she said, referring to their older sister.
A hurricane of noise and limbs suddenly burst through the space, a cavalcade of youngsters racing past the adults. They ranged in age from three to almost twelve and sounded like a hurricane in the making.
“Gabrielle! Irene! Stop running!” Marah admonished. “And I mean it! You two are keeping all your cousins stirred up! Santa’s not coming if you two don’t get it together! How many times do I have to tell you both to set the example for the younger kids?”
Both little girls suddenly came to an abrupt halt, the others falling in line behind them. They eyed Nicholas warily. The younger of the two, Gabrielle Stallion shifted her gaze from his face to the bright white running shoes he wore on his feet. Her eyes moved from him to Nathaniel, shifting as she took in their identical features. She pointed an index finger. “You two are twins!”
The adults laughed.
“That’s right,” Nathaniel said. “This is my twin brother.”
“Gabi, you don’t remember your cousin Nicholas?” John asked, his gaze on his daughter’s face.
Gabi shrugged, the gesture dismissive.
“Did you bring presents? Everyone else brought presents,” Irene Stallion questioned, her small hands resting on her lean hips.
Nicholas laughed. “I did bring presents. They’re still in my car. Are you going to help me carry them in?”
Irene narrowed her gaze on the man’s face. “I’ll go get Collin. He does things like that,” she said with a shrug.
Gabi echoed the sentiment. “Collin does ’dem things. He’s a big boy,” she said.
“Girls can do boy things, too,” Irene said matter-of-factly.
Two of the older boys looked from the girls to the adults. One small voice suddenly spoke up. “Uncle John, are we still going outside to play kick ball?”
John turned his gaze to eye the nine-year-old and ten-year-old staring at him. “We’re ready when you are, Jake. But I thought you and Lorenzo were having fun playing with the girls?”
The youngster named Lorenzo gave them all an exaggerated eye roll. “Irene and Gabi are too bossy,” he said emphatically.
“Am not!” Gabi snarled.
Irene snapped her head in the young boy’s direction, her eyes narrowing into thin slits. “Humph!” she grunted.
Lorenzo’s eyes widened, and he took a step backward, bumping into his cousin Jake.
“I’m playing, too, and I’m going to be the pitcher,” Irene said as she turned on the toes of her cowboy boots. She then tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and moved toward the back of the house.
Gabi gave the boys a take that look as she skipped after her older cousin. The line of noise followed behind the two, the wealth of it rushing toward the other side of the home.
John called after them, “Gabi! Your mother said to stop running!”
Marah tossed up her hands. “You guys know your way to the kitchen. I need to corral the toddler brigade back upstairs to the playroom.”
“I’m still trying to figure out how they all got out!” John exclaimed, his own head shaking.
He and Marah exchanged a look both answering at the same time. “Frick and Frack!” they exclaimed, referring to Gabi and Irene.
Nicholas laughed. “And how old are the girls now?” he asked.
“Gabi is eight and Irene just turned eleven.” Marah answered.
“Eleven going on thirty,” Mark Stallion, John’s brother, suddenly interjected, hearing his daughter’s name. “It’s good to see you, cousin,” he said as he moved to Nicholas’s side to shake his hand.
Marah gave her husband a quick nod. “John Stallion, you have only two hours until all the children need to be in bed. Please tire them out before we all go crazy!” she admonished as she rushed in the direction of the noise, an argument ensuing in the other room between the younger kids.
John laughed. “You are just in time, Nicholas. How are you at running the bases?”
“I’ve never had any problems before,” Nicholas answered, chuckling deeply.
The others all laughed with him.
“Well, Mark’s daughter is one tough cookie,” John interjected. “And she throws a mean ball. You may have just met your match.”
* * *
The men from the Stallion and Boudreaux families and their children were divided into two teams. John was captain of one, and Nicholas had volunteered to lead the other. The women watched from the rear patio as the men and children played kick ball in the makeshift field.
Irene’s mother and Mark’s wife, Michelle “Mitch” Stallion, shook her head. She and Marah exchanged a look, their two daughters bickering at each other in the outfield. Despite admonishments from both their fathers, neither little girl was interested in playing nice.
“She’s trying to break me,” Marah said. “Gabi has made it her mission to try my last nerve and break me down.”
Marah’s twin sister, Marla, laughed. “It was that parent curse. Daddy had wished that you’d have a daughter just like yourself, and voilà!”
Marah cut an eye in her twin sister’s direction. “I was never that bad!”
“You really were that bad,” their older sister Eden said.
Katherine Boudreaux chuckled. “We all have one that challenges us. Thankfully they grow out of it,” she said.
“Which one of us was yours, Mama?” Maitlyn Boudreaux-Sayed asked, shifting her newborn son against her shoulder.
Her sister, Katrina Boudreaux Stallion, echoed the question. “Yeah, Mama? Which one?”
Their mother tossed them both a look. “Do you two really have to ask?”
A warm voice echoed from inside the patio door. “I’ll take that as a compliment!” Tarah Boudreaux exclaimed as she rushed out to hug her family.
“Tarah!” The women called out excitedly, everyone rising to embrace her.
“You finally made it,” her sister Katrina said, moving to give her a hug. “Why didn’t you call? Someone could have picked you up.”
Tarah shrugged. “Someone did. There was a car service waiting for me when I landed.”
The women all looked at each other. Maitlyn, who was usually their go-to girl for anything that needed to be done, said, “It wasn’t me this time!”
“Well, I don’t care who did it. I’m just glad they did,” Tarah said. Reaching for Maitlyn’s baby, Tarah pulled the infant into her arms. It was her first time seeing her new nephew in person. “Maitlyn, he’s beautiful!” she exclaimed, kissing the little boy’s cherub cheeks. “And he’s so chubby!” She looked around for the infant’s older sister. “Where’s Rose-Lynne?” she asked. The little girl was nowhere in sight.
Maitlyn dropped back into her seat. “Upstairs in the playroom with the nanny!” She blew out a sigh. “I love coming here. I can actually take a break! Zayn isn’t an easy baby like his sister was.”
“Ain’t that the truth,” Tierra Stallion exclaimed. Tarah imagined she was thinking about her own children, Lorenzo and his little sister Tianna. Visiting the ranch had to have been a welcome reprieve for her and her husband Travis. The distraction of cousins for their children to play with and the added care from family and trusted staff were just the beginning of the many perks afforded to them.
“I don’t know about all that,” Phaedra Stallion-Boudreaux offered. She rubbed a small hand against the beginnings of a baby bump. “Every time I take a break here, Mason and I get pregnant.” It was her third pregnancy in as many years. Her two sons and the daughter they hoped for had begun to look like stair steps.
“I think it must be something in the water,” Phaedra’s sister-in-law, Dahlia Boudreaux, echoed as she waddled to her seat. It was her third pregnancy as well, the second set of twins coming to her and her husband Guy.
Katrina Stallion laughed. “At least every time you visit and get pregnant, you go home and win another film award! So there are perks!” she said as she gave Dahlia a high five.
“It’s the water!” all the women exclaimed, their laughter abundant.
Katherine laughed with them. “Girls, it sounds like your problem is that you’re having too good of a time during those breaks! And that don’t have anything at all to do with water unless y’all are doing it in that swimming pool!”
The women all laughed again.
Tarah passed her nephew back to his mother. “So what good family gossip have I missed?” she asked, her eyes briefly shifting out to the activity on the game field.
Marah laughed. “Where do you want us to start?”
Tarah’s gaze suddenly came to an abrupt halt. “Please start by telling me that tall and good-looking man out there is a family friend and not related to me by blood.” Rising from her seat, she walked to the edge of the patio, and all the women turned to where she stared.
Her mother laughed, the matriarch shaking her head. “He’s related to you. I’m sure of it.”
Tarah’s sister Maitlyn giggled. “Not really, and definitely not by blood. That’s Nicholas Stallion. He’s one of the Utah cousins. He’s Nathaniel’s twin brother. Nathaniel is a doctor, too.”
Tarah grinned. “That makes him a Boudreaux family friend,” she said as she bit down on her bottom lip.
Out on the field, Nicholas stood with Irene, whispering something in the little girl’s ear. Her smile was canyon-wide as she nodded her head at whatever he was saying. Tarah found herself surprised that he’d caught her attention. His athletic build and cocky swagger were the opposite of what she was usually attracted to. But the man was tall and buff, his build a strong, solid mass of rock-hard muscle. He moved with a hint of arrogance in his step. He was a beautiful specimen of male prowess, and Tarah imagined that there wasn’t a woman who wouldn’t be impressed.
“So, what does the twin who’s not a doctor do?” she asked, turning her attention away from the man for a moment.
“You mean you really don’t recognize him?” one of the women asked.
Tarah shook her head.
“That will just burst his bubble,” someone else interjected.
Marah laughed. “Nicholas is a professional football player. He’s the quarterback for the Los Angeles Marauders.”
“The star quarterback!” one of the other women gushed.
Tarah laughed. “His feelings are really going to be hurt, then, because I hate football!”
Across the way, Nathaniel’s eyes suddenly shifted in her direction. His gaze widened with interest, his mouth dropping open slightly. Distracted, he missed the ball tossed his way, the rubber sphere rolling toward the outfield, the little girls racing after it. The gesture was abrupt, and obvious, as everyone turned to stare where he stared. And then he suddenly dropped to his knees, Irene slamming the rubber ball harshly into his midsection.
* * *
The Stallions and the Boudreaux were a family of beautiful people, kindhearted, generous and loyal to a fault. Their list of personal accomplishments was lengthy. Between them all, they’d amassed enough wealth to run a large country, but they were humble and grounded in their love for God and each other. Whenever they came together, laughter was abundant, tears were joyous and the memories were rich. This time was no different.
Nicholas stood toward the back of the oversize family room, his hands folded together behind his back. Looking about the space, he was enamored with the energy that overflowed throughout the home and the abundance of love that embraced them. It felt like a cashmere sweater wrapped tightly around his shoulders. He was in awe of how life had changed for them all since they’d found each other.
The family stood together as Reverend Milo Bernard, the pastor of John and Marah’s church, blessed them. The reverend anointed the holiday season with prayers for continued prosperity and health, giving benedictions to send them into the new year. With the last gesture of thanksgiving, Marah announced that it was bedtime for everyone under the age of twenty-one. But it was only when Senior Boudreaux raised his voice that each of the kids went racing to their beds to wait for the arrival of Santa Claus. With a collective sigh, the adults all dropped into the moment, savoring the first ounce of quiet since the day had begun.
As Nicholas’s gaze skated around the room, he suddenly locked eyes with Tarah, catching the young woman staring at him intently. They had officially met over dinner and then the teasing had begun, both families poking fun at the two of them. It was even more humorous when little Irene, not at all amused, declared him her boyfriend and Tarah her sworn enemy. In cahoots with her best buddy, Gabi, the girls had made it their mission to keep the two of them apart. Everyone had found it amusing, and even he’d laughed it off. But there was something about the beautiful woman that had him feeling giddy and completely intrigued.
Tarah Boudreaux’s youthful exuberance was a welcome change from the women he usually encountered. Most of the females who sought out his attention wore an air of desperation like a beloved perfume. But there was nothing desperate about Tarah. In fact, she’d been aloof and dismissive, barely batting an eyelash’s worth of attention in his direction.
Across the room, she was now giving him a look that had him twisting nervously in his seat, and he found himself grinning foolishly. She rose from her own chair and moved to his side, dropping down on the settee where he rested.
He took in a swift breath of air, filling his lungs to calm the nerves that had risen unexpectedly. “Dr. Boudreaux!”
“Mr. Stallion. Are you enjoying your Christmas Eve?”
“I am. How about you?”
“I forgot just how much I miss being around family over the holidays.”
“When was your last time here?”
Tarah pondered the question for a quick minute. “Thanksgiving, last year. I think. It’s been a good long while, but my schedule isn’t the most accommodating.”
“My brother says you’re a surgeon? Is that right?”
She nodded. “My specialty is neurosurgery. It’s usually a seven-year residency, and I have one more year and a half to go. I’ll be doing a fellowship my last year in trauma and neurocritical care.”
“That sounds...serious! You have to use a lot of big words in your profession, don’t you?”
She laughed. “It’s a lot of work, but it’s well worth it.”
“So, how can you hate football?” he asked, addressing one of her comments that had his cousins teasing him earlier.
Tarah shrugged, a smirk crossing her face. “Don’t take it personally. I hate basketball and soccer, too. I do like tennis, though.”
Nicholas laughed. “I hope you know that doesn’t redeem you.”
She gave him another smug glance, her eyes rolling. “Do I look like a woman who’s worried about redemption?
Nicholas met the look she was giving him, his own eyes widening ever so slightly. Tarah Boudreaux was extraordinarily beautiful. Everything about her reminded him of summer sunshine, the blue water of a tropical paradise and ice cream—rum raisin with chocolate, to be specific. Light danced across her face, and her warm honey complexion shimmered as if she’d been dipped in flecks of gold. Her mouth had the sweetest hint of a pout to it, and when she smiled, her lips were intoxicating.
He chuckled again, the gut-deep rumble warm and endearing. “Honestly? You look like a woman I should probably be fearful of.”
She laughed, rose from her seat and turned toward the kitchen and the throng of women who’d headed in that direction to get a jump on the holiday meal. She stopped abruptly, tossing him a look over her shoulder. “You need to be afraid, Mr. Stallion! Be very, very afraid!”
Chapter 2 (#ulink_c975a7f8-0cf3-54a5-a4f6-85d4b3b97bb6)
“Nicholas is my boyfriend!” Irene said emphatically, a hand on her hip. She held a brand-new basketball beneath her other arm as she tapped a high-top Converse against the hardwood floor.
Gabi nodded her head in agreement, her arms folded across her chest.
Michelle shook her head as Mark responded to their daughter’s comment. “You can’t have a boyfriend until you’re fifty.”
“Yes, I can! Can’t I, Mommy?”
Mark eyed his daughter with a narrowed gaze before tossing her mother a look. “I can’t handle this,” he said, his stare shifting briefly in Nicholas’s direction. He looked back at his wife as he pointed a finger. “Do something before I lock her away until she turns forty!”
Nicholas laughed, holding up both hands as if he were surrendering. Tarah sat across the table from him unable to contain her own giggles. Irene glared at her, which made the moment even funnier.
Everyone in the room erupted in a wealth of laughter.
“I would have to hurt someone!” Zakaria Sayed said, his daughter sitting in his lap. “They start way too young!”
Maitlyn rubbed her hand against her husband’s back. “Poor Rose-Lynne. She doesn’t have a clue what she’s up against with all the men in this family.”
Her brother nodded in agreement. “You got that right,” Kendrick Boudreaux echoed as he high-fived his best friend. “Zak and I will put that nonsense to a stop, quick.”
Katherine never looked up from the pot she was stirring. “Your children are going to do exactly what they want to do. You just need to ensure you give them a solid foundation to build on. He won’t be the first boyfriend that baby’s going to want to claim. Tarah had dozens by the time she was twelve. Then she turned eighteen, and we haven’t seen a man worth his weight in salt since.”
Tarah laughed. “That is not true!” she exclaimed, color rising to her cheeks.
“Which part?” Nicholas questioned, meeting her gaze.
She noted the smirk across his face. “I may have had dozens by the time I was thirteen, but when I turned eighteen, I didn’t waste my time with men who didn’t meet the Boudreaux family standard!”
“That’s debatable,” her father interjected. “Y’all remember that boy with the squint eye?”
Tarah jumped to her feet. “No, they don’t, and why are we suddenly focused on me? He’s the problem. Chasing after youngsters!” she exclaimed, pointing a finger at Nicholas.
Nicholas laughed. “I did no such thing!”
Tarah leaned down toward Irene, meeting the little girl at eye level. “You don’t want him to be your boyfriend,” she said. “He’s not very nice!”
Irene’s eyes narrowed into thin slits. She gave Tarah a look before easing her way over to Nicholas’s side. She dropped an elbow to his thigh as she rested her chin against her palm, leaning against his leg.
Nicholas laughed as he gave Irene’s ponytail a light tug. The little girl grinned brightly in response. He winked an eye at Tarah.
Gabi moved to stand beside her friend. “That’s why Santa didn’t bring you gifts!” she proclaimed, cutting an eye at Tarah. “You’re the one that’s not nice! Nicholas is real nice.”
Tarah shook her head as she stood up straight. “Santa brought me gifts!” she hissed between clenched teeth.
Gabi mimicked her Aunt’s eye roll.
“Did I really just get schooled by a first grader?” Tarah shifted her eyes from one kid to the other.
“I’m in second grade!” Gabi snapped back.
The entire room roared, another round of laughter sweeping through the space.
Marah shook her head. “Gabi, Irene, that’s enough out of you two. Head up to the playroom with your toys, please! Only grown-ups can be downstairs right now.”
Irene grabbed Nicholas’s hand. “Come play!”
Tarah laughed. “That’s right!” she exclaimed. “Only grown-ups are allowed downstairs, Mr. Boyfriend!”
Nicholas laughed as Irene and Gabi both pulled him along. “Jealous much, Dr. Boudreaux?”
She rolled her eyes as Nicholas’s sister Naomi eased to her side. “I think my brother likes you,” the woman said, her voice low.
Tarah giggled. “I think I might like your brother.”
Mason shook his head. “He’s not your type. Besides, we all like him, too. No one wants to see you break his heart. And you’re notorious for that!”
Tarah shot her brother a look. “I am not!”
Kendrick nodded. “Yes, you are! You chew guys up and spit them out like they’re nothing. It’s never pretty, so we definitely don’t need you throwing Nicholas off his game.”
“I know that’s right!” Mark echoed. “I’ve bet too much money on him, so I need my cousin’s head straight for game day.”
Tarah tossed up her hands. “I am not a heartbreaker!” she exclaimed as she dropped down into the seat Nicholas had just vacated.
Her siblings all gave her a look, and then everyone chuckled, amusement wafting between them.
“Who all’s going to the game?” John asked, looking around the room as he changed the subject.
“I think we should make it a family event,” Nicholas’s older brother, Noah Stallion, interjected. “Try to get everyone there to support him.”
Tarah clapped her hands together. “Ohh! The championship game! I can’t wait! I really hope I can get the time off.”
Marah laughed. “I thought you hated football?”
“I do, but it’s the championship game! Besides, football players are too cute in those uniforms. Who can hate a tight end with a tight end?”
Confusion washed over her mother’s face. “I thought you all said that boy was a quarterback?”
* * *
Tarah found Christmas Day to be one of the best she’d ever had. She had missed the energy of having her siblings and their extended family together in the same space. The fellowship reinforced how much she loved, and had missed, her people while she was living in Phoenix.
Everyone’s good mood swept from room to room. The laughter was intoxicating, and the whole family was drunk with joy. By midafternoon, all of the children had finally settled down, either napping away the morning excitement or cuddling quietly in a corner with a new toy or book.
Decadent kitchen smells wafted through the home as the final touches were being put on the holiday meal. Turkeys and hams had been pulled from the ovens, cakes and pies decorated the counters, and everyone’s favorite foods were being transferred to serving dishes.
Heading down to the stables, Tarah had followed her nephew Collin, who’d been excited to ride the new horse that Santa had brought him. The college sophomore stood as tall as the other men in the family, his growing maturity reminding her of how quickly time was flying. She couldn’t help but think that if she blinked, she might actually miss something. All the children were growing way too fast for comfort. She released a soft sigh as she sat perched on the top rail of the wooden fence that enclosed the pasture where the young man was putting the Appaloosa through his paces.
Collin’s grin filled his face as he pulled the horse up to a stop beside her. “You really should come ride, Aunt Tarah! I can saddle one of the other horses if you want.”
She reached out a hand to stroke the animal’s neck and it neighed, its large head bobbing slightly as if it were echoing the young man’s comment. “Not this time, Collin. But you go have fun. He really is beautiful!”
Collin nodded. “And here I was hoping they would get me a new phone for Christmas!”
“Sounds like you earned it. I hear things are going well for you at Morehouse.”
Collin’s chest pushed forward slightly. “It’s getting harder, but I promised Mom I would make the dean’s list every semester I’m there. I have to stay true to my word!”
Tarah smiled. “That’s my guy! We’re all so proud of you! Have you thought about what you want to do after college?”
He nodded. “I plan to get a law degree like Mom and Dad. And then I’m going into the family business. Stallion Enterprises keeps growing, so they are always going to need good lawyers!”
She nodded. “You go, boy! And if you change your mind, you can always practice medicine like your auntie!”
Collin shook his head. “Uh, no thanks! I don’t like going to doctors, so I know I don’t want to be one. I’m proud of you, though!”
Tarah laughed. “Go ride, kiddo! Enjoy that horse. What did you name him, by the way?”
Collin laughed. “Baby!”
As Collin pulled gently on the reins to turn Baby in the other direction, Tarah laughed with him.
“What’s so funny?” Nicholas questioned, seeming to come out of nowhere.
His sudden appearance behind her was startling and she jumped, pulling one hand to her chest as she steadied herself with the other. “You just scared the crap out of me!” she snapped, clearly not amused.
He held up hand. “Sorry about that. I just saw you sitting here and thought I’d come say hello.”
Tarah took a deep breath to calm her nerves. She cut an eye in his direction as he climbed atop the fence to sit with her. He shifted side to side, trying to make himself comfortable atop the narrow ledge.
He met the look she was giving him and smiled. The lift of his full lips dimpled his cheeks. “So, is there a trick to this that I’m not getting?” he asked, leaning his body forward for better balance.
She chuckled. “You need a little more cushion back there. It helps.”
He nodded. “No wonder you look so comfortable.”
“Excuse me?”
He grinned. “It was a compliment. I was just pointing out that you have a very nice rear view. Full...and round.”
There was a moment’s pause as her gaze locked with his. Her eyes narrowed substantially. “Why are you looking at my ass?”
“In all fairness, I wouldn’t have looked at all if the girls hadn’t pointed out that you had a big butt.” He laughed. “Irene thought I needed to be aware. She also said you have a big head, big feet and teeth that look goofy.” He shot her a look. “Her words, not mine!”
Tarah looked out to the horizon, then shifted her gaze back out to the pasture. “I swear those two are so lucky they’re short!”
“If it makes a difference,” he said smugly, “they love your hair.” He then reached out and brushed a curly strand from her eye. The gesture surprised her, causing the air to catch in her chest as she suddenly held her breath. “And you always smell really good!”
“They said I smell good?”
“No, I threw that in,” he said, grinning broadly. “Like vanilla and lavender with a hint of honey. You smell like a woman is supposed to smell. Special! I was trying to help you out.”
Tarah laughed, amusement dancing over her face, but she didn’t bother to reply to his comment.
“You still didn’t tell me what was so funny,” he said. “What were you laughing about when I came up?”
“Collin named his horse Baby.”
Confusion pulled at Nicholas’s expression. “And that’s funny because...?”
“When his mother was pregnant with Jacoby, he really wasn’t happy about getting a baby brother or sister. He only wanted a horse. Then when little Jake was born and he held him for the first time, he said the baby was okay but he still would rather have had a horse named Baby instead. It was all he would talk about for months!”
“Cute,” Nicholas said, nodding his head slightly as his stare shifted to where his cousin’s son and the horse were moving in perfect sync with each other.
A blanket of quiet dropped over the two, the moment suddenly awkward. Nervous energy fired hot between them, feeling like a circuit board gone awry.
Tarah allowed a good few minutes to pass before she cast a quick glance in his direction. She was surprised to find him staring at her. He chuckled softly, color tinting his cheeks at being caught.
“Sorry! I didn’t mean to stare, but you’re just so beautiful!”
Tarah felt herself blush, the red in her own cheeks mirroring the crimson tint across his chiseled cheekbones. “Thank you,” she murmured, suddenly feeling out of sorts. She couldn’t help but wonder where her caustic attitude and the one-line zingers she was infamous for had disappeared to. For whatever reason, she couldn’t think of anything witty to say.
She was no stranger to men commenting on her looks. Rarely did a man take a moment to know her long enough to comment on her intelligence before he was jumping at the opportunity to tell her how attractive she was. It usually struck a nerve, but there was nothing condescending, or lecherous, in Nicholas’s delivery. Surprisingly flattered, she had no words.
He shifted awkwardly, still unable to make himself comfortable against the narrow rail. Amusement danced in her eyes as she watched him, and he suddenly felt as if an explanation was necessary. “Years of getting hit on the football field keep me in pain. My back and legs just aren’t working with me today. I think I need a little more than some backside cushion. I’m thinking a recliner would be ideal right about now.”
“Football is a rough sport, but I understand how you feel. I’m on my feet all day, every day, so even when I get a chance to rest them, they still ache.”
He smiled warmly. “All the doctors I know have massive hands that look like they should be pulling tobacco in some field somewhere. You have the most delicate hands,” he said.
She laughed, wiggling her fingers out in front of her. “I have a surgeon’s hands. They may be small but they’re steady.”
“So, you really like cutting into people’s flesh?”
“I love saving people’s lives, curing their illnesses and helping them achieve a better quality of life.”
He nodded his head. The look he gave her was endearing. “You’re something special, Tarah Boudreaux!”
“And don’t you ever forget it, Nicholas Stallion!”
He laughed, continuing to ask her questions about school and the hospital and other things that meant the world to her. The rest of their conversation was warm and comfortable, an easy exchange as they became better acquainted. He explained the nuances of football, described his predilection for extremely spicy foods and shared that he secretly enjoyed watching reality television.
Nicholas suddenly jumped down from his perch, his hands brushing away the dust against the back of his khaki pants. “It really has been a pleasure talking to you, Tarah. But I think it’s time I sneak back down to the house.” He pointed across the yard.
Turning to where he stared, Tarah saw Irene and Gabi searching him out, the two little girls making a mad dash across the fields.
Nicholas gave her a wink, and then he tore off in the opposite direction. By the time the two youngsters reached where Tarah was sitting, he had disappeared into the rose gardens. All Tarah could do was laugh.
* * *
Saying goodbye was bittersweet. Tarah wished she had another two weeks to spend with her family, but she had to report back to work the next morning. Having time off for Christmas meant she was definitely on call for New Year’s. Despite the good time she’d had, she was just as excited about getting back to the hospital.
She sighed as she dragged her suitcase to the front foyer. She turned toward the family room just as Nicholas bounded down the double staircase. His eyes widened at the sight of her.
“Oh, Tarah, hey! Are you leaving?”
Tarah nodded, a slight smile pulling at her mouth. “I am. Vacation is officially over.”
He came to a stop in front of her. “I really had a good time getting to know you. I hope you’ll stay in touch.”
Tarah laughed. “I guess that means you want me to call you.”
A smirk crossed Nicholas’s face. “Or I could call you?”
“You could.” She reached into the backpack thrown over her shoulder, searching until she found a black ink pen. She reached for his hand, pulling it toward her. She met his bemused stare as she wrote her name and number into his palm. She then closed the cap on her pen, dropped it back into her bag and continued toward the family room, Nicholas following closely on her heels. Just as she reached the doorway, he called her name and grabbed her arm. Although there was nothing aggressive about the gesture, it clearly showed his determination.
Tarah bristled slightly. “Excuse you?” Her eyes darted from his fingers clasped around her forearm to his face and back to his fingers.
He snatched his hand away as if he’d burned it. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to say...well...” His eyes skated about erratically as he tried to find the words to voice the thoughts suddenly racing through his head.
Tarah shifted her weight from one hip to the other, resting one hand against the curve of her waist. She eyed him with a raised brow, her look questioning.
Nicholas suddenly pointed his index finger toward the door header above their heads. “We’re standing under the mistletoe,” he said softly, a hint of laughter in his tone.
Tarah’s gaze moved from his face upward to where he pointed. A ball of mistletoe, brightly trimmed with evergreens and a red velvet ribbon, dangled above them. She turned her gaze back to his, staring into his dark eyes. “Christmas is officially over.”
He shrugged his broad shoulders. “It still counts. At least until New Year’s.”
“Says who?”
“It’s an old family tradition. If you stand under the mistletoe, you can’t refuse to be kissed.”
“We don’t have that tradition in my family.”
“You’re in Stallion territory. In this house those are the rules.”
“Says who?”
“Says every man named Stallion in this family. Just ask them if you don’t believe me.”
Tarah crossed her arms over her chest, her stance widening as she faced him full-on. It was a standoff of gigantic proportions as they stared intensely at each other. Nicholas was actually taken aback when Tarah suddenly moved against him, pressing both her hands against his chest. The heat between them rose like a firestorm intent on vengeance. Nicholas licked his lips, the gesture ever so slight. She tilted her face upward, her eyes dancing a perfect two-step with his. There was an air of excitement that wafted between them, and just as he lowered his face to hers, his lips quivering with anticipation, she turned her head abruptly. His lips grazed the round of her cheek instead. She pushed him abruptly from her and tapped a heavy hand against his chest.
“I can just imagine the women you’re accustomed to dealing with, Mr. Stallion, but I’m not that kind of girl! So please, don’t get it twisted. You don’t know me well enough for you to be putting your lips on mine. And that’s a Boudreaux family rule! If you don’t believe me, you can just ask my daddy!”
Nicholas laughed, amusement washing over his expression.
There was suddenly a wealth of applause from across the room. The two turned abruptly, surprised by the unexpected attention. They met a host of gazes, both their families clapping enthusiastically after witnessing the exchange between them.
Tarah tossed Nicholas a look, her eyes narrowing as they both blushed profusely.
Gabi’s small voice suddenly bellowed across the room, her tone piercing. “Irene! Why is your boyfriend kissing that girl?”
Chapter 3 (#ulink_e42f54c6-f56e-5ccd-b8a9-825fb1eb02c2)
“Paging Dr. Boudreaux to Radiology. Dr. Tarah Boudreaux to Radiology!”
Tarah paused in jotting notes onto a patient’s chart. She was at the tail end of a twelve-hour shift, exhausted, hungry and unable to fathom who was paging her or why.
A nurse she recognized but didn’t know by name nodded in her direction, the older woman smiling warmly. “Do you want me to call down and tell them you’re on your way, Doctor?”
Tarah shook her head, taking a quick peek at the pager that had also vibrated against her hip. “No, someone’s anxious for my company. No point in putting it off.”
The other woman nodded, extending her hand in greeting. “Dana Harding, CRNA. I’ve heard great things about you. I look forward to working with you, Dr. Boudreaux.”
“Thank you. I appreciate you saying so.”
Tarah’s pager vibrated a second time. She placed the patient chart back onto the counter. As a soft exhalation escaped her lips, a hint of annoyance furrowed her brow.
The other woman chuckled softly. “Good luck with that,” she said.
Tarah laughed with her, her name sounding over the intercom yet again. “Sounds like I’ll need it,” she said as she headed in the direction of the building’s elevators.
Minutes later she stepped into the radiology center, hurrying toward the area’s nursing station. Before she could ask who and where, the nurse behind the desk pointed her toward an office door.
With a light knock, Tarah pushed her way through the entrance and into the office space. Dr. Thaddeus Harper, Chief of Neurology at Phoenix Hope Surgical Center, stood staring out the window to the parking lot below. His hands were folded together behind his back, and he appeared to be in serious thought. He was tall and lean, his physique slim with the barest hint of muscle tone. He wore an air of wealth and accomplishment like a shroud, the abundance of it swathing every aspect of his personality. It was steeped in arrogance, and out of all the doctors in the hospital, he was probably the least liked. But he was a brilliant surgeon, considered to be the top man in his field, and that, in and of itself, garnered him much respect.
He turned as Tarah entered the room, and his face lifted with glee, the creases that edged his eyes hinting at a smile. “Dr. Boudreaux! You weren’t with a patient, were you?”
“I’d just finished checking Mr. Siler’s vitals. He’s out of ICU and doing extremely well.”
The man nodded. “Dr. Forest would have joined us but he’s been called into a meeting,” he said, referring to the head of radiology whose office they were in.
Tarah stood at attention as the man continued, her fingers clasped together, her shoulders pulled back.
“I’m sure you’ve heard of the Barton twins?”
Tarah nodded, and her eyes widened. She felt her heart begin to beat a little more rapidly. There weren’t many in the area’s medical field who didn’t know of the Barton twins. Oscar and Henry Barton had been born a year earlier at the Phoenix Women’s Hospital. They were joined at the chest wall and abdomen and shared a liver and intestinal tract. Physicians around the nation had been consulted about their pending separation, and it was rumored that a well-known celebrity had volunteered to cover the family’s medical costs. The proposed operation would involve specialists from pediatrics, plastic surgery, cardiovascular surgery, urology, liver transplant surgery, orthopedic surgery and neurology. It would take close to two days from start to finish. Every doctor and intern Tarah knew hoped to be a part of the team selected. Tarah nodded. “Yes, sir! I have.”
“Good.” He pushed a stack of medical files in her direction. “Make sure you know everything there is to know about our patients. You’ll be assisting me in the operating room. We begin practice runs tomorrow morning. The operation will take place next week. I will be reassigning all of your other patients until further notice.”
Tarah fought to contain her excitement, wanting to jump up and down with joy. Her eyes were wide, misting slightly. “Thank you, Dr. Harper!”
“You’ve earned it, Dr. Boudreaux. Your work ethic is admirable, and everyone here in the hospital has taken notice. I look forward to you being part of the team.” The barest hint of a smile pulled at the man’s thin lips.
Tarah’s grin was a mile wide. “I won’t disappoint you, sir,” she said as she nestled the file folders comfortably in her arms.
He gave her a dismissive nod. As she turned to make her exit, he called her name.
“Yes, sir?”
“Are you available for dinner tomorrow night? I’d like to discuss the case in greater detail with you.” He hesitated for a brief second. “If you have time?”
Tarah paused herself as she eyed the man. She finally smiled, tossing him a quick nod of her head. “I appreciate the invitation, Dr. Harper. I look forward to it,” she said softly.
This time the man’s smile was wide, showcasing his picture-perfect veneers. Before he could comment further, Dr. Forest rushed through the door. He tossed them both a look, then directed his attention to her. “Dr. Boudreaux, welcome to the team!” he exclaimed.
Tarah grinned. “Thank you, sir!”
“Dr. Harper has a lot of faith in your skills, Tarah! That says a lot. The hospital is excited to have you on board.”
Tarah cut an eye in Dr. Harper’s direction, his face shifting back to his usual stoic expression. His gaze had narrowed, something cold and empty seeming to seep from his blue-green eyes. Despite the respect Tarah held for the man, she understood how everyone found his mechanical nature off-putting. She turned back to Dr. Forest. “I won’t disappoint, sir!”
With a tilt of his head, Dr. Forest turned his attention toward his colleague, the two men falling into conversation as Tarah exited the room. When the door closed behind her she jumped up and down, sheer joy gleaming across her face. Her excitement spilled out of every pore. The nurse at the desk stood with the telephone pressed to her ear. She laughed as she gave Tarah a thumbs-up. Dancing back toward the bank of elevators, Tarah didn’t know who to call first, but she was anxious to share her good news with her family.
* * *
The rest of Tarah’s day could not have gone any better. By the time she found her way home, she was exhausted but so amped with adrenaline that she’d actually considered going back to the hospital to work another shift. The only thing to stop her was having to be bright-eyed at seven o’clock the next morning to start working with the surgical team on the strategy that would change the lives of the two young boys and their parents.
As she pulled into the circular driveway, a wave of loneliness swept over her. She paused for a quick moment to take in the magnificent plantings and rolling landscape of the forty-acre compound. Her brother Mason’s Arizona home sat high on Mummy Mountain with panoramic views of the city and the mountains. Citrus trees lined the driveway, and a mountain waterfall could be seen cascading in the distance. It was one of the prettiest places Tarah had ever known, but living on the impressive estate by her lonesome had started to wear thin.
The first year of her internship, she’d had three roommates. Two had since married and moved out, and the third had been evicted after throwing an unauthorized party that had left her owing her brother Mason money for the damages. Afterward she’d followed her sister Maitlyn’s advice and had opted to go it alone since help wasn’t needed with the housing expenses. She had her family to thank for that, and although she considered her brother’s generosity a blessing, she knew her parents considered it a curse of sorts that continued to keep her spoiled.
Moving into the home, she disengaged the alarm system, then sauntered into the kitchen to make a cup of hot tea. The light on the answering machine was blinking for attention, and after she’d put a kettle on to boil, she pushed the play button to listen to her messages.
“Hey, baby girl! It’s Kendrick and Vanessa. You really need to answer your cell phone or at least reply to the messages. You still have a cell phone, don’t you? We just wanted to say congratulations. We know you’ll do great. Give us a call when you can. Love you, little sister.”
“Tarah, baby, call your parents, please. Senior says he’s coming in next week to check on you, and I need you to call the landscaper so he can be around when your daddy gets there. Now don’t forget, Tarah! I love you, honey!”
“Um, uh, yeah, Tarah, wow! You still have a house phone! I don’t know why, but I thought I was calling your cell number. Anyway, it’s Nick... Nicholas Stallion. I hope you’re doing well. You were on my mind, and I thought I’d give you a call to say hello. Okay...well...give me a call when you can.”
“Hey, it’s me again. Nick. I forgot to give you my number. It’s...”
Tarah laughed out loud as Nicholas called off the ten digits to reach him. He repeated the number three times to be sure she had it. After jotting the phone number down, she deleted all the messages, then turned back to her teapot.
She hated to admit it, but she’d thought about Nicholas often since spending time with him over the Christmas holiday. Celebrating New Year’s Eve alone in the hospital ICU with a patient who’d come through brain surgery had kept him in the forefront of her mind. That night she’d wondered who he’d kissed when that silver ball had dropped to signify the midnight hour. Since then, she’d been questioning why she hadn’t heard a word from him.
She had considered calling him but had talked herself out of it. Men like Nicholas had a host of women chasing after them, and she wasn’t interested in being part of the pack. Besides, calling him would have required reaching out to one of her siblings, or his, for his number. She didn’t need any of their family in her business that way. When another two weeks had passed with no call, she’d filed him away as interesting but unavailable. And now here he was, calling her.
Moving toward her bedroom, she dropped down onto an oversize recliner, pulling a cotton blanket over her legs and file folders into her lap. It was about darn time she heard from him, she thought as she sipped herbal tea from an oversize mug. And as she thought about calling him back, she couldn’t wait to ask him what had taken him so long.
* * *
Nicholas opened the glove box of his car and tossed in his cell phone. He took a deep breath, hesitating briefly before finally closing the compartment door. He had tried to reach Tarah four times now, and each time he’d gotten her voice mail instead. He had yet to hear her voice, and he couldn’t help but wonder why she hadn’t returned his calls. The silence had him feeling some kind of way. Every woman Nicholas had ever been interested in always called him back.
Twisting in his seat, he reached into the back and grabbed his gym bag. He sighed, then exited the vehicle and engaged the car alarm. As he moved from the parking garage to the entrance of the team’s training facility, fans and groupies asking for his autograph and vying for his attention besieged him.
Although he appreciated their interest, his mind was elsewhere, and he breezed right past the crowd, barely bothering to nod his head or acknowledge any of them. He ignored the catcalls, and as someone snapped his photograph, he imagined the headlines that would surely ensue about his attitude.
He had become notorious for what the media called mood swings and what sports enthusiasts had labeled bad behavior. Admittedly, his responses to the stress associated with the game hadn’t always been stellar, but few people truly knew him or his heart. Nicholas had learned early on that despite the boatloads of money and time he donated to the numerous organizations he supported, it was the tantrums and flagrant outbursts that kept his name in the headlines and the cameras focused on him. That, along with some seriously impressive plays on the football field, kept his name in everyone’s mouth. It had become just another part of the game that he’d learned to manipulate and play well. The payoff made him an endorsement gold mine as long as he never took it so far that he was an embarrassment to the team, the league or his family.
As the gym door slammed close behind him, he hurried down the short length of hallway toward the locker rooms. Once inside, he was assaulted by the smell of sour funk. The place reeked of sweat, feet and musk, masked by too much cologne and not nearly enough soap. Nicholas grimaced. Despite the number of times he had come and gone from the space over the years, he had never grown accustomed to the smell.
His arrival was met with amused looks as the whole team turned to stare in his direction. The team’s head coach stood with his arms crossed over his chest, annoyance creasing his brow. Nicholas’s eyes shifted from side to side as he took a swift inhalation of air.
“You’re late, Stallion!” the Marauder coach, Marcus Brandt shouted. “Again!”
Nicholas dropped his bag to the floor in front of his locker. He shrugged his broad shoulders and proffered an apology. “Sorry, Coach. It was unexpected. Something came up.”
“We’re going to the big game, Stallion. If you actually want to play in that game, you need to get your ass here on time!” the man ranted, spewing a lengthy list of expletives at Nicholas. “You’re lucky I don’t fine your ass. I just so happen to be in a good mood!”
Nicholas didn’t waste the breath to respond. He wasn’t moved by the profanity-laced diatribe, and he saw no reason to reply in kind. He himself didn’t cuss, his older brother Noah having told them time and time again that a man who needed to punctuate his point with obscenities really didn’t have a point to make. Neither he nor any of his brothers had ever felt a need to sit around with their buddies and trade vulgarities. And it wasn’t often that Nicholas allowed any other man to swear at him without him putting the fool in check. Coach was an exception to that rule. Despite the exchange, he considered the coach a friend and had much respect for the man and his position. But his body language tightened and his eyes narrowed, an air of indignation rising with a vengeance.
The expression across his face spoke volumes, and the coach suddenly swallowed hard, shifting his gaze around the room to avoid looking directly at the man he was chastising. The tension was palpable, and one of the other players suddenly slammed his helmet against a metal locker.
“Let’s do this!” another teammate screamed, all of them anxious to get out on the field and hit something.
After another two minutes of a pep talk, the coach dismissed the team, and they headed in the direction of the field. He sauntered slowly to Nicholas, who still stood where he’d stopped. The two eyed each other warily.
“Why do you have to bust my chops, Stallion?” Coach Brandt questioned. He stood with his hands on his hips, his eyebrows lifted in query. “You are taking us to the Big Game! The Big Game! You’re one of the best damn players in the league, and you need to be setting an example for all the others. Instead, you’re giving me a hard time!”
Nicholas took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He met the look Brandt was giving him with one of his own, wondering why the man felt the song and dance was necessary. Nicholas didn’t always do what was expected of him, but he had never once not done his job and done it well. And Brandt knew that. In the years he’d played for the team, he could count on one hand the number of times he’d been late for anything and have more than half his fingers left over. To Nicholas’s chagrin, Brandt often played to the cameras and the other players, needing to laud his position whenever he had an audience.
“You done?” Nicholas finally asked, clearly not impressed.
Brandt lowered his voice. “Hey, you know everyone already thinks I give you too many passes. Just this morning someone was whining about you being the coach’s favorite.”
“Just this morning?”
“Well, maybe not this morning, but I heard it once this week already.”
Nicholas chuckled softly. “I should be your favorite. Me scoring more points and gaining more yardage in a single game is what got you to the championship. Breaking the records I’ve already set is what’s going to win you that championship ring. I know it and so do you.”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah!” The man grinned. “So, is everything okay? Nothing we need to worry about, I hope.”
Nicholas shook his head. “Everything’s fine. It won’t happen again. At least, not this season. I can’t speak for next year, though.” He turned to hang the last of his street clothes in the locker, slamming the door closed after pulling a jersey over his head.
Brandt nodded, extending his hand. The two bumped fists, and Nicholas turned in the other direction, following the other players to the football field.
Chapter 4 (#ulink_5884c9a5-1611-5ac7-aa09-a0b229fb0535)
Tarah had been far from comfortable when she arrived for her dinner meeting with Dr. Harper. Kai, the five-star restaurant he’d selected, was located in the Sheraton Wild Horse Pass Resort and Spa in the Gila River Indian Community near Chandler. The award-winning eatery was renowned for its Native American cuisine, and with the diamond awards earned by their executive chef, it was a member of an elite group of dining establishments. Tarah wished she’d bothered to check the reviews before she’d left the hospital. She shut down the search page on her smart phone and gloomily exited her car.
Walking up to the entrance of Kai, it was obvious she was underdressed. Unfortunately, going home to change wasn’t an option since she was past the point of arriving fashionably late. The black slacks and white button-down blouse she wore didn’t begin to compare to the designer wardrobes of the other women in the room. In fact, with her thick curls pulled into a high bun and no makeup adorning her fresh face, Tarah looked more like a member of the staff than a patron.
Dr. Harper had already been seated when the hostess escorted her to his table. His stare had been critical, but as he’d risen from his seat to pull out her chair, he’d remained quiet. Admiring the gray silk suit he wore with a white dress shirt and red print necktie, Tarah felt overwhelmingly out of place. Her discomfort was painted across her face like a bad makeup job.
There was a moment of comfort when he dove right into business, quizzing her on the day’s training. But by the time the waiter came bearing their appetizers, her discomfort returned with a vengeance. Their conversation had taken a personal turn. He was suddenly asking questions about her relationships and the men she’d dated in the past. When the entrée was set in front of her, she knew beyond any doubt that dinner had been a monumental mistake.

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