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Navy Doc On Her Christmas List
Amy Ruttan
A snowbound reunion!Tension between Dr Ella Lockwood and ex-Navy doc, Zac Davenport, is sky high! All she can think about is how he once broke her vulnerable heart.Now she’s a confident ER surgeon who’ll never let him hurt her again. And being snowed-in together on Christmas Eve at Manhattan Mercy, reveals his last tour of duty has changed Zac too. But that compelling spark is still there – and one more irresistible kiss is all it takes to start healing the wounds that have held them back…Christmas in ManhattanAll the drama of the ER, all the magic of Christmas!


A snowbound reunion!
Tension between Dr. Ella Lockwood and former navy doc Zac Davenport is sky-high! All she can think about is how he once broke her vulnerable heart.
But now she’s a confident ER surgeon who’ll never let him hurt her again. And being snowed in together on Christmas Eve at Manhattan Mercy reveals his last tour of duty has changed Zac, too. But that compelling spark is still there—and one more irresistible kiss is all it takes to start healing the wounds that have held them back...
Dear Reader (#ua45c8e58-9265-5c1e-884b-ba3cf3e86704),
Thank you for picking up a copy of Navy Doc on Her Christmas List.
I love Christmas. It’s one of my favourite holidays and, even though I miss some of those days from my childhood and the magical memories my parents created, I’m really enjoying the creation of those types of memories with my own kids. I love giving them gifts and watching their faces...their excitement.
Christmas is even more magical for me now, so when I was asked to participate in this continuity I jumped at the chance. Who doesn’t love the miracles and the romance of Christmas in New York City?
Dr Ella Lockwood and I have a lot in common. We both had a tumultuous youth. When Ella was assigned to me I could instantly sympathise with her. She was a wallflower, frumpy, awkward, and really overlooked. Just like I was. I knew that I wanted to give her the chance to fight for what she wanted, what she craved—and that was Dr Zac Davenport!
Even though Zac hurt her in the past, not all is as it seems. Now it looks as if Ella will be the one saving Zac, who’s back home to heal after his last tour of duty left him empty and numb inside.
A snowstorm might force them to work together, but it’s going to take a Christmas miracle for them finally to have what they’ve always wanted—and that’s each other.
I hope you enjoy Ella and Zac’s Christmas romance. I love hearing from readers, so please drop by my website, amyruttan.com (http://www.amyruttan.com), or give me a shout on Twitter @ruttanamy (https://twitter.com/ruttanamy).
With warmest wishes,
Amy Ruttan
Navy Doc on Her Christmas List
Amy Ruttan


www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Born and raised just outside Toronto, Ontario, AMY RUTTAN fled the big city to settle down with the country boy of her dreams. After the birth of her second child Amy was lucky enough to realise her lifelong dream of becoming a romance author. When she’s not furiously typing away at her computer she’s mum to three wonderful children who use her as a personal taxi and chef.
Books by Amy Ruttan
Mills & Boon Medical Romance
Royal Spring Babies
His Pregnant Royal Bride
Hot Latin Docs
Alejandro’s Sexy Secret
The Hollywood Hills Clinic
Perfect Rivals...
Sealed by a Valentine’s Kiss
His Shock Valentine’s Proposal
Craving Her Ex-Army Doc
Convenient Marriage, Surprise Twins
Visit the Author Profile page at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk) for more titles.
This book is dedicated to some of my best friends. Those who were always there with me during those awkward years when I was like my heroine. I couldn’t have made it through high school without my crew.
Love you lots, Jenn, Brooke, Wendy, Cara and Sylvia.
Contents
Cover (#ub9ccb982-328b-5f65-83e7-8fbc541263f9)
Dear Reader (#u8453dbd9-ba71-5573-b131-147eb281d66e)
Title Page (#ue5bd478e-afe5-55b8-adb3-b21c642f264e)
About the Author (#u7d445419-03b8-5095-9594-db0f682bf2d9)
Dedication (#u727616e1-413c-52f1-aeea-2b864bd57acb)
CHAPTER ONE (#u7084c9cb-d88d-576a-b7e9-adeb6f5e0dbb)
CHAPTER TWO (#u1099a478-acfb-5e0c-8f56-c51b1bc1e7a5)
CHAPTER THREE (#u3f1e8562-9b8a-5b56-b897-5ebe29eed64f)
CHAPTER FOUR (#u93cfd4cb-d2a9-5418-ba68-bf474634706e)
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)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER FOURTEEN (#litres_trial_promo)
EPILOGUE (#litres_trial_promo)
EXTRACT (#litres_trial_promo)
Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)
CHAPTER ONE (#ua45c8e58-9265-5c1e-884b-ba3cf3e86704)
“NEW YORK IS at a standstill. Bridges and tunnels have been closed. What a great last-minute Christmas gift from old Saint Nick. NYPD are advising if you don’t have to go out, don’t. New York hasn’t seen a blizzard like this since the late seventies...”
Ella shut the radio off. She didn’t know who had left it running on an annoying Christmas music channel, but at least the radio host had it right—there hadn’t been a blizzard in New York City like this in quite some time.
And she knew that without listening to some awful music station, because her aching feet were a grim reminder of what heavy snowfall did to people. She’d just wrapped up eight hours on the ER floor and since Charles Davenport said that everyone was to stay put because of the blizzard, she was stuck here.
At least the hospital was more prepared for a brownout this time. Well, in theory. Ella would believe it when she saw it. Charles had electricians and system specialists working on the new generators to make sure they didn’t fail, like the old ones had.
Still, the storm raging outside was a doozy.
It wasn’t like it was anything new, the storm that was, it felt like it had been storming for months on end, but the meteorologists were calling this storm the worst of them all. Ella was skeptical. How could this storm be worse than the last one? In reality, she thought probably the weatherman was exaggerating and it would be nothing.
But since the new shift couldn’t get in, it meant that she was still on duty, even though she had just worked a long one.
Not that Ella minded in the least bit. It meant she could avoid the obligatory family dinner where her mother would lament her lack of having a husband and providing her with grandchildren.
Which was all her parents ever thought she was good for.
“By the time I was your age, Ella, I was married with three children,” her mother had droned on. “If you’d smiled more during your coming out, you would probably have a husband by now.”
Yeah, because smiling more would have helped the men she’d been forced to smile and flirt with change their minds about a short, awkward, ugly duckling in god-awful designer dresses that her mother had picked out for her.
All those society functions had done was reinforce her desire to stay single and become the best damn trauma surgeon on the eastern seaboard.
Which, working under Charles Davenport’s tutelage, she was fast becoming. Being snowed in and forced to work while her mother’s tedious society Christmas function was taking place was just perfect.
So Ella relished her moment of freedom, far from her mother complaining of her perpetual state of single life, and settled down to enjoy a nice cup of coffee in the empty staff lounge while there was a lull between patients.
Ella sighed as she propped up her aching feet. The lights were off and the heavy snow that was blanketing Manhattan gave a nice calming, glow outside.
And she couldn’t remember the last time that Manhattan had been so completely covered in snow. It was nice. She liked the snow. She liked the magic of Christmas on her own. It was her mother who made Christmas painful.
So she didn’t mind working an extra shift.
This was heaven to her. She’d catch a few winks of sleep before she headed back down to the emergency room.
“There might be some mistletoe in here!” The lights were flicked on and Ella squinted at the blinding light she was not prepared for.
“What in the heck...?” she asked as she sat up.
Two nurses in Santa caps were standing in the doorway of the staff room, blushing.
“Oh, Dr. Lockwood, we’re so sorry, we didn’t know that anyone was in here!”
Ella rubbed her eyes and was still seeing two large spots as she sat up. “It’s okay. I’m just a surgeon, I don’t need my eyes anyway.”
Stacey, one of the trauma nurses, chuckled as she began rooting through a box labeled “Christmas Decorations” in the corner. “Again, sorry.”
“What’re you looking for?” Ella asked, annoyed that her solitude had been broken.
“Mistletoe,” said Carol, the other nurse. “We just have some down time and since we’re stuck here we thought we would have some kind of Christmas fun.”
“Aha!” Stacey shouted, producing a very fake-looking piece of plastic mistletoe. “It’s not real, but it should do the job just the same.”
Ella just shook her head. “You two have fun with that. Who are you going to kiss anyway?”
Carol and Stacey were always scheming to land themselves rich doctors as a potential mates. They were Manhattan Mercy’s version of her mother. They also schemed to set other people up, but mostly themselves. Carol and Stacey’s targets were wealthy doctors, preferably attendings over interns.
“Dr. Zac Davenport!” Carol practically squealed like a schoolgirl. “He said he’s never been kissed under the mistletoe before.”
Ella rolled her eyes and snorted. She could almost guarantee that Zac Davenport had been kissed under the mistletoe before. It was probably just a ruse to get a kiss from a couple of pretty nurses.
Zac Davenport was a playboy, and a handsome one at that. Sure, he’d aged since he’d come home from his last tour of duty, but it had made him even sexier. The boyishness had melted away to a hardened man, one who seemed to hide pain behind those Davenport blue eyes.
Maybe no else saw the pain he was trying to hide, or how jumpy he was, like when the corks were popped at the wedding a couple weeks ago, but she saw it. She saw the change in him, because once upon a time she and Zac had been close.
Although she thought they’d been closer than maybe he did.
Still, she was always a sucker for those blue eyes.
Eyes that had at one time caused her to go weak in the knees and melt. There was a change in his, but Ella seriously doubted there was much of one. Slime was still slime.
You kissed that slime before too.
She’d done more than kiss that slime. She’d given a piece of herself to him, a piece of her heart, and then he’d crushed it with his cruelty.
Ella was going to say something else when Zac entered the staffroom. He didn’t see her as she hurriedly stood up, but her heart skipped a beat at the sight of him. She felt her knees weaken, her pulse start to race and her palms grow sweaty. He’d been here a couple of weeks, but she’d tried to avoid him as much as possible. Not to be on duty when he was.
Apart from the odd blip, it had been working up until now.
Suddenly she felt like that dumpy, awkward girl in the lime-green dress. And she didn’t like that much. It was exactly how she’d felt when he’d spoken to her briefly at Charles’s wedding.
She’d thought he was off duty. He was supposed to be on the next rotation and part of the staff that couldn’t get in. What was he doing here?
“Merry Christmas, Dr. Davenport,” Stacey squealed as she ran up to him, holding the ugly fake mistletoe over her head and kissing him on the cheek. Carol snatched it from Stacey’s hand.
“Merry Christmas.” And Carol kissed him on the other cheek.
“Uh, Merry Christmas...” he said stiffly.
Ella snorted. He didn’t know their names. That wasn’t surprising. They were only two of the trauma nurses in the department he worked in, why should he know their names? Typical spoiled Zac Davenport. Not a care in the world for anyone but himself.
“Stacey,” Stacey said.
“And I’m Carol,” Carol said, stepping in front of Stacey. “We’re on duty tonight.”
Zac looked uncomfortable.
Good.
“Shouldn’t you two be out on the floor?” Zac asked, trying to untangle himself from the onslaught of nurses. Ella felt a small amount of pity for them.
“Yes, you two should be out on the floor. There are patients waiting,” Ella said stiffly, trying not to make eye contact with Zac.
“Of course, Dr. Lockwood,” Carol said. “We’ll just take our decorations and go.”
Stacey nodded and picked up the dilapidated box where they’d got the fake mistletoe from and left the staffroom.
“Thanks,” Zac said. “I wasn’t sure how I was going to get out of that.”
“No problem,” Ella replied, but she didn’t look at him. It was better that way.
“Isn’t your shift over?” he asked, as he approached the coffee pot where she’d retreated to after he’d walked into the room. In effect, cornering her.
“Yes, but if you haven’t heard, most of the next shift is unable to make it in and Manhattan has shut down.”
“You worked a full shift, you can just walk home.”
“It’s not safe,” Ella snapped, annoyed that he wanted to get rid of her so badly.
Wouldn’t you be pestering him the same way too?
“I’m just worried that you’re too tired to work another shift.”
She glared at him. “Really? You’re concerned about my well-being?”
“You’re tired,” he said.
“You don’t look so hot yourself. You have dark circles under your eyes.”
Zac’s eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips. “I didn’t sleep well.”
“Then maybe you should go home and rest.”
Zac’s eyebrows shot up. “What is wrong with you?”
“What is wrong with me?” Her voice rose an octave and she was annoyed with herself for engaging in conversation with Zac. She’d promised herself when she’d heard that Zac Davenport had been discharged from the navy and was coming to work at Manhattan Mercy that she would keep her distance from him. That she wouldn’t let him bait her.
She’d worked hard here to build a reputation for herself, and just because Zac had come waltzing back to Manhattan and had immediately got an attending position in Trauma because he was a Davenport, it didn’t mean that she was going to run away with her tail between her legs.
No way. Not this time.
“You’ve been acting weird lately. I mean, I tried to speak to you at Charles’s wedding and you said nothing to me, and then fighting over that patient? We haven’t exactly worked well together.”
“Actually, I said hello and goodbye, if I remember correctly, at the wedding. As for the working situation, well, the trauma floor is tense and that was my patient.”
Those brilliant blue eyes darkened with annoyance. That mouth, which she was all too familiar with, frowned and he crossed his arms.
“Ella, what is wrong?”
You were my best friend, my first kiss, and then publicly dismissed me in front of our peers. You broke my heart.
“Nothing is wrong.” She set down the plastic cup that was half-filled with now-tepid coffee. “You know what? You’re right. I’m tired and maybe I should head out in the whiteout conditions and go home.”
She turned on her heel and stormed out of the staffroom, clenching her fists to keep herself from shaking.
There was no way she was actually going to head out into that storm. The ER was short-staffed and whiteout conditions didn’t make it exactly safe to navigate the streets tonight. It was safer in the hospital.
As long as she could get away from Zac.
She was going to stay, but she just couldn’t stay in the same room as Zac Davenport. Not for one more second.
“Ella!”
She heard him shout her name from behind her.
Why is he following me?
“Ella!”
She ignored him and quickened her pace, but she was no match for Zac, who gripped her by the arm and pulled her down a side hallway.
“What?” she demanded as he spun her around to face him.
“Look, I didn’t mean it. You can’t go out in that storm.”
She rolled her eyes. “I wasn’t going out in the storm. You really don’t think much of me, do you?”
He cursed under his breath, running his hands through his short brown hair in frustration. “What did I do, Ella? Seriously?”
She was going to open her mouth to say something when there was an unmistakable sound of a power surge. An electric hum and suddenly they were cast into darkness.
“What the heck?” she asked. “I thought the new system was supposed to control these brownouts.”
There were murmurs and shouts of shock.
“No,” Zac whispered. “No.”
Ella was surprised by the sound of panic in Zac’s voice, the terror etched on his face under the emergency lights. “It’s probably just a brownout. Like before. The generator will kick—”
“Son of a...” was shouted as someone further down the darkened hall knocked over a tray of metallic instruments. Followed by the clang of metal echoing and bouncing off the hospital walls.
Zac froze. His eyes were wide with terror as he backed against the wall, trembling. Ella was shocked, because he didn’t even seem to know that she was there. His body was rigid in terror. Just like after the corks at the wedding. When the pops had sounded, she’d seen him freeze, then duck under the table. He’d seemed to recover quickly, but afterwards he’d left the room, looking pale. No one had noticed in the confusion of the wedding, but she’d seen it.
“Zac?” she asked softly, reaching out to touch him, but he pushed her hand away, as if her touch would harm him.
A couple of porters who were making their way down the darkened hallway stopped and stared at Zac, who was breathing deeply but clinging to the wall like he was on the edge of a precipice and was about to fall.
And she recognized the classic symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder. No one had said anything to her about Zac having post-traumatic stress disorder. That would be something they would disclose about a new doctor working at the hospital to the head of that surgeon’s respective departments.
I don’t think anyone knows.
One thing she did know, she had to get him out of there and calmed down.
“Come on, Zac. Let’s go.” She took his hand and this time he didn’t fight her off. She pulled him into the nearest empty on-call room and shut the door. She led him to the cot and made him sit down. “Breathe, it’s okay. It was just a porter knocking over some instruments.”
Zac nodded, but didn’t look at her. He just took deep, calming breaths.
What had happened to him during his tour of duty?
“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m okay.”
“You sure?” she asked, not wholly convinced that he was all right.
“I’m fine,” he snapped.
Of course, he was back to normal. The ungrateful jerk that he always was. Not even thanking her for taking him somewhere quiet where he could center himself.
“I’m so glad,” she retorted. She had to put some distance between her and Zac. “Well, I’m just going to head back to the trauma floor and make sure the patients are okay.”
“Sounds good.”
Ella pulled on the doorknob and it popped off. She stared at it in horror.
“Did you just pull the handle off?” Zac asked in horror.
“Yes,” she said, and then it was her turn to curse. There was no way out of the room. She was stuck there with Zac Davenport until someone came to get them out.
CHAPTER TWO (#ua45c8e58-9265-5c1e-884b-ba3cf3e86704)
ZAC COULDN’T BELIEVE he was staring at the doorknob in Ella’s hand. He was still a bit in shock. It was bad enough that he’d had that momentary blip of PTSD in front of her. He just needed to put some distance between her and him, but now that really wasn’t an option.
It’s because you’re working too hard.
He shook that thought away. Work was the only thing that helped. It kept the ghosts at bay. Saving lives helped him focus and forget. He was a trauma surgeon, that was his job, and that’s all he needed to worry about. Of course it was hard to be a trauma surgeon locked in an on-call room.
“Give me that,” he snapped, snatching the doorknob from her and trying to cram it back where it was supposed to be.
“Oh, my God, why didn’t I think of that?” She slapped her forehead. “I forgot you had the ability to fuse metal.”
Her sarcasm was grating on the last of his nerves.
“Dammit, Ella.” He threw the doorknob down and scrubbed his hands over his face. This was not happening.
“It’s not my fault.”
She was right. It wasn’t her fault that the doorknob was defective. She’d made it clear that she wanted to leave the room just as much as he did. And he shouldn’t be angry at her, he should be angry at himself.
If he hadn’t run after her he wouldn’t be in this mess.
If the power hadn’t gone out, he wouldn’t be in this mess and if that tray of instruments hadn’t been knocked over... Just the thought of the metal hitting the polished floor, the clattering against the walls made his pulse kick it up a notch.
Get a hold on yourself.
He didn’t want to have another attack here now, locked in a room with her.
Although Ella wasn’t stupid. She’d probably figured out that what had happened had been a PTSD attack.
No one in his family knew about it, except Charles, who knew that Zac had been cleared for work. Of course, it rarely made an appearance. He kept it in check.
But even Charles didn’t know the exact reasons he’d left the navy and had accepted his honorable discharge. No one needed to know. He’d tried to stay in Annapolis and work there, but working on injured veterans had brought back the horror of his last tour of duty all too well.
And just thinking about it, the screams from last Christmas filled his head.
“I need to sit down.” He pushed past Ella in the small on-call room and sat down.
Why did he have to be locked in an on-call room with her right now?
The one woman he’d never really been able to resist. The one woman who his family had been trying to marry him off to since he’d been a young man. He didn’t want to ever get married. Adventure had been his goal and family just tied you down, stopped you from living your life. On his own he could do whatever he wanted.
Life was too fragile. Lives could be cut short in the blink of an eye and after what had happened with his parents, with his father cheating on his mother, yeah, marriage was something he’d never wanted. Settling down had never been on his agenda.
Ever.
For so many years he’d tried to keep Ella Lockwood at arm’s length, but that summer before they’d both headed off to medical school, they’d connected.
Ella had been so much more than the awkward society princess he’d thought she was. She had been curvy, clumsy and her self-esteem had been shaky, but there had been something about her that had drawn him to her.
And he’d known from past experience he had a hard time resisting her.
Though he’d tried. He’d been going off to Annapolis. He hadn’t wanted to be tied down because he’d had these childhood feelings for Ella Lockwood.
Then that Christmas at her parents’ home in the Hamptons, right before he was going back, they kissed and he knew he had to walk away from her or there would be no turning back. She fired his blood and it frightened him, the hold she’d had on him. That she still had on him.
After that night he didn’t see her again. Not even at the party her parents threw the next day. She just vanished without saying goodbye. It stung, but it was for the best. He couldn’t offer her anything, although he never forgot her.
He hadn’t seen her in so long.
When he’d learned she was a senior surgeon in the ER at Manhattan Mercy, he’d been shocked. He had been naive to think that the years apart would have calmed his reaction to her. After the horrors of war, he had been certain that she’d have no effect.
He’d been wrong.
So wrong. There was a fire in her, a drive he admired, but she was still off limits. Every woman was. He didn’t want a relationship ever. He’d come home to make amends with his family, but that was it. His stance on marriage hadn’t changed.
Zac stood up and pulled off his white lab coat, tossing it on the bed.
“What’re you doing?” Ella asked.
“Push-ups,” he muttered as he dropped to the floor and began to do push-ups. Exercise and hard work was how he forced his nightmares away. It’s also how he dealt with sexual frustration.
Despite the friction between them at work, when he’d seen Ella at Charles’s wedding, he’d wanted to kiss her again. To take it further, like he’d wanted to do before he’d left.
But she’d blown him off.
She’d avoided him since he’d arrived and he didn’t know why. It had frustrated him. Just like having a breakdown in front of her had.
Most of his family didn’t even know about his PTSD, and he certainly didn’t want Ella Lockwood to know about it.
He had to put it out of his mind. Talking about what had happened wouldn’t do him any good.
“I’ll call for a janitor.” She pulled out her cellphone.
He stopped his push-ups and sat on the floor. “You have the janitor’s number on your cell?”
“There are messes in the ER that sometimes need a janitor’s touch stat,” she said as she pushed the contact on her phone.
Zac rolled his eyes. “Of course, what was I thinking?”
Ella shook her head. “Hello? It’s Dr. Lockwood. Dr. Davenport and I are stuck in an on-call room in the ER. On-call room four at the end of the hall. The doorknob came off. Right. Okay, but...yeah. Okay.” She ended the call.
“Well?”
“They’re trying to get the power back on. The new generators failed and it’s imperative they get the power back on before the battery backups on critical machines fail.”
“Of course.” He understood, but he really didn’t want to start off his shift like this. It was bad enough that he hardly ever slept anyway, but sitting still in a locked room with Ella would exhaust him more.
When he was busy he was able to chase away the demons from his tour of duty and keep the exhaustion at bay. The only thing that calmed him down was saving lives. In the operating room he was in control of everything.
Here he had no control.
Ella sank down on the bed. “At least there are very capable residents on the trauma floor in case something happens. I hate it when the ER is quiet.”
Zac nodded. “I’m sure you’ve trained them well.”
“Merry Christmas,” she said, then chuckled half-heartedly.
“Yeah, for sure.”
“I’m surprised you’re on rotation tonight. Doesn’t your family go all out for Christmas, like mine?” she asked.
“Yeah, but I haven’t been to a Christmas in a long time, and since I’m new to Manhattan Mercy I told Charles that I would work. Pay my dues. I don’t want others to think that because I’m a Davenport I get all these perks.”
“Really?”
“You seemed surprised by that.”
“I am,” she said, and sat cross-legged on the bed.
“Why?” he asked. “You know me.”
Ella stared at him, but it was hard to read her expression. “I did, but it’s been years since I’ve seen you. You could’ve changed. I mean, we’ve all changed.”
“Yeah,” he said. He’d changed. He was numb and though he survived his last tour of duty he felt like his soul was dead.
He was cold inside. In pain.
“I haven’t changed that much, Ella.”
Liar.
“Then I’m sorry. It’s just...given your name I assumed you got a free ride.”
“No, to Charles my name means nothing. I had to interview for a position and he expects me to work hard. I didn’t just get this position handed to me. And if I hadn’t got a position here I would’ve gone to another hospital.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.” Zac scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Well, since you’ve been in the service for so long I thought you’d be with your family instead of working.”
“It’s more important Charles is off for his boys. I don’t have kids or anything to tie me down.”
“True,” she said.
“How about you? Your parents usually have a big do as well. I know because our mothers competed slightly to get guests to attend.”
Ella smiled at him then, a deep dimple on her cheek that just made her smile all that more irresistible, and her blue eyes twinkled in the dim light from the emergency lighting in the room.
“I forgot about that,” she said wistfully.
“What? The party or the fact that our mothers compete?”
“Competition obviously. I’m painfully aware of my mother’s Christmas party.” She shuddered for good measure and he laughed.
He missed these easy talks they’d had. And that thought scared him. How she drew him in. It’s what their parents had wanted since they were young. He’d always balked at the idea and resented that Ella had been constantly pushed on him, but there was a part of him that wanted her.
He still wanted her, even after all this time.
When he’d stolen that kiss from her, he’d wanted more. He remembered that kiss clearly, touching her face, the taste of her lips and the sound of the small sigh that had escaped her lips when they’d parted.
Her cheeks had been flushed pink and those blue eyes had dilated with desire.
In that moment he’d wanted more, but her sister had walked in and Ella had run away.
And then he hadn’t seen her at the Christmas party, hadn’t seen her before he’d left to go back to Annapolis, which he’d thought was for the best. Only he could never get that kiss out of his head. It was the only kiss he’d never forgotten.
Ella was the one who’d got away.
But he couldn’t have her. He didn’t want to tie her to a broken shell of a man. Didn’t want to marry any one ever. He didn’t want family. He didn’t want to risk his heart to have it destroyed. With love came pain and as he’d served tours of duty he’d seen a lot of pain and suffering. The idea of losing someone he loved that much scared him to his core, because he saw the pain when a parent buried a child.
When a husband buried a wife.
The pain and loss of life.
And he’d experienced it. He’d been too close to it. His heart began to race.
“So, why are you working tonight?” he asked, trying to steer his thoughts away from the painful trajectory they were taking.
“I wasn’t supposed to be working tonight. The storm hit and I’m stuck here.” There was a hint of happiness in her voice and he couldn’t help but laugh at that.
“You sound relieved,” he said.
“I am! You know how my mother’s parties go. We all dress up in...” Her voice trailed off and she cleared her throat. “They’re a dreadful bore.”
Zac thought she was going to talk about the terrible dresses that Mrs. Lockwood seemed to like to force her children to wear. The dresses that Ella had worn when she’d been a teenager had never been flattering and he knew that she’d been the butt of many jokes.
She’d been short and had had baby fat. Of course, he’d never noticed the dress. Only the woman. The girl he’d kissed, his best friend.
That baby fat had transformed into luscious curves and as he studied her sitting on the cot he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to what was under those dark blue scrubs that she wore.
Oh, God.
“Well, if it’s any consolation I think that your mother’s parties were a touch more popular than my mother’s parties ever were.”
She cocked a finely arched blonde brow. “How so?”
“Your mother’s parties were never filled with barely controlled hatred between your parents. Passive aggressive digs at infidelity. Pinched and forced smiles. Awkward.”
Ella chuckled. “Oh, the polite fight, you mean? And they weren’t always. Before...”
“You mean before it came out my father had an affair and a secret love child?”
Ella blushed. “Yes, before that. Before Miranda. Your parents were happy.”
Zac sighed. Yeah there had been a time his parents had been happy, but it was hard to remember the way things used to be. And he wouldn’t trade Miranda for anything, but trust had been shattered after that and the family dynamic had changed.
And Zac had lost respect for his father and become ever more determined to forge his own way in this world.
“True, before that came to light they were happy.”
“My parents aren’t perfect. There have been many of those polite fights. ‘Henry, dear, perhaps you shouldn’t wear that color to the dinner, it clashes with the carpet.’ ‘Sylvia, dearest, what I’m wearing is fine, it’s all that plastic surgery affecting your eyesight.’”
They both laughed at that.
“How are our mothers friends again?” Zac teased.
“It’s called frenemies, I believe. They’re frenemies.”
“That’s it.” Then he yawned.
“Tired?”
“I didn’t sleep well last night,” he said.
“You’ve been working hard since you came on board,” she said.
“Look who’s talking.”
“True, still you really do look beat.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “Though you just came off a long shift. I really shouldn’t be complaining.”
Ella scooted over. “Come on, the floor can’t be comfortable. At least you can be slightly comfortable as we wait for our rescue.”
* * *
Ella didn’t know what she was doing. She should just leave him on the floor, but he was suffering.
A part of her was glad that he was, but it was small. It was just that vindictive part that she had. The bitter part that still remembered the humiliation he’d doled out to her.
“When are you going to pop the question to Ella Lockwood, Davenport?”
“Pop the question?” Zac asked.
“Yeah, you hang out a lot with her.”
“She’s going to medical school. We have that in common,” Zac said dryly.
“Come on, Davenport, it must be more than that!”
Zac laughed. “I have no interest in ever marrying a pampered society princess.”
Ella shook that internal dialogue out of her head. It was dialogue that had always eaten away at her. For years and years. It was her own personal demon she had to fight. Zac had utterly humiliated her in that moment.
After that stolen kiss she’d wanted more from him, but he’d broken her heart. Still, his dismissal of her had caused an awakening.
That night she’d discarded the clothing her mother had picked for her and had done her hair and makeup to her liking and not her mother’s. She mostly preferred to go without makeup and forgo the hideous designer dresses. For the first time in her life she’d felt like the person she’d always been hiding.
The person she’d been afraid to show.
His dismissal of her had given her the drive to excel. To prove to him and the rest of the world she was more than a pampered society princess.
To be more than the world her parents moved in, expected of her. She hadn’t wanted to be a society wife and mother.
She was going to be the best surgeon she could be. She was going to be respected. Opening yourself up to people just put your emotions, your heart at risk. So she kept herself safe by putting others at a distance.
Under the blonde, curvy, short stature she was a force to be reckoned with when it came to her residents.
When Ella Lockwood told you to move out of the way, you moved out of the way.
Still, another part she’d buried long ago wanted to be a wife and a mother. To have a family, friends. She was lonely, even if she didn’t want to admit it. The problem was she just didn’t see that happening any time soon.
Now, with Zac’s return, there was a shift in her confidence and she didn’t like it much. She’d promised herself that she would keep him at a distance. Give him the cold shoulder and let him know that she didn’t give a damn about him.
Of course, that was rather hard to do when she’d seen him in an instant so vulnerable and broken.
When she’d seen that weaker side to him. When she’d seen the side of him she’d thought existed all those years ago, until he’d cruelly dismissed her.
They didn’t say anything, but she could see the exhaustion etched on his face. And as they sat there in the darkness, with only one dim emergency light in the room, Zac fell asleep. Then he shifted and laid his head in her lap.
Wake him up.
Only she couldn’t make herself do it. There had been so many times that summer when they’d connected where they’d been studying and he’d drifted off like this. Where they’d passed out together.
When they had been children, they had been nap buddies. Ella’s nanny would place them in the nursery, her in her bed and him on the floor in a trundle bed. In the darkness, while their parents had had parties downstairs, when the raucous laughter of the adults would wake her up and frighten her, Zac would always wake up and climb into her bed.
Suddenly, she was tired.
Her shift had started at five in the evening yesterday and now it was seven in the morning. She should be at home, sleeping, before she was forced to go to her mother’s that night.
Of course, the storm had stopped all that.
Since they were stuck, she shifted slightly and curled up beside Zac. Just like they had done so many times years ago.
It was comforting. She’d forgotten how comforting it was.
This is dangerous.
And that was her last logical thought before she drifted off into her own fitful slumber.
CHAPTER THREE (#ua45c8e58-9265-5c1e-884b-ba3cf3e86704)
“GET OUT OF HERE, JERK!”
Zac woke with a start, disoriented, but he was painfully aware there was a soft body pressed against his. And as his eyes adjusted to the light he could see that it was Ella, curled up against him. She was lying half on her side and half on her back. Her wavy blonde hair was spread out on the pillow. Long eyelashes brushed against her pink, round cheeks and those pink lips moved as she murmured utter nonsense in her sleep.
And he couldn’t help but smile. He’d forgotten that she tended to be very vocal when she slept.
She’d talked in her sleep a lot. There had been one time, after studying for anatomy, when they had both fallen asleep on the couch and she’d shouted out something about dissecting elves with pizza. He’d cared about her so much back then.
What about now?
“Zac,” she whispered, his hands still on her face, their lips mere inches from each other’s. Her breathing was heavy, just as his was.
“Shh,” he whispered. “Just breathe.”
And he brought her lips to his again. It felt so right. It burned his soul and he wanted more.
His blood heated, because he remembered what it was like to kiss her.
Her body shifted and she tossed a leg over him and moaned sweetly in her sleep.
Oh, God.
He closed his eyes and tried to get control.
“You idiot,” she murmured.
He laughed quietly to himself and then gently shook her. “Ella, you’re dreaming. Wake up.”
She curled up closer to him.
He took a deep breath, because her curling up closer to him made his blood heat even more. He had to extract himself from this situation.
“Ella,” he whispered, leaning over her.
Her eyes opened. “Zac?”
“Yeah.”
She smiled at him dreamily.
Then before he could stop himself he reached out to touch her cheek, her silky cheek. And he kissed her, his lips locking with hers as he pulled her to him, and any kind of control that he had on resisting her crumbled away as he tasted those plump, pink lips again.
It had been so long. He ran his hand down her body, over her curves, recalling how it felt when he took her in his arms and how much he burned for her. How much he wanted her.
Even after all this time, he still wanted her. Any other women he’d known had failed to compare to Ella.
She was in his blood.
Suddenly she pushed him away and her blue eyes were wide. “I don’t think this is very smart, do you?”
“Sorry,” he said. “Sorry, I... Yeah, there was no excuse for that.”
“I’ll say! Still, I didn’t exactly discourage it. So I’m sorry too.”
“No, nothing to be sorry about.” He sat up and tried to hide evidence of his arousal by getting off the bed and grabbing his lab coat. “I don’t know what I was thinking but that’s no excuse. I’m sorry that happened. Exhaustion.”
“Or your post-traumatic stress disorder,” she said, trying to straighten her hair.
“What?” he snapped, taken off guard. “I don’t have post-traumatic stress disorder.”
“Oh, come on, Zac. You’re not sleeping, you’re jumpy...”
“I’m trying to get back into routine.” He sighed. “I was cleared by the Annapolis psychiatrists. I disclosed that I’d had PTSD to Charles in my interview, had being the operative word.”
“Okay,” she said, but didn’t sound very sure.
“I’m clear, Ella.”
Just as she opened her mouth to say something further, the door rattled and then opened. A maintenance man poked his head into the room.
“Sorry, Dr. Lockwood. We got here as fast as we could. We had to get the generators up and running to the essential parts of the hospital.”
“It’s okay. How long have we been in here?” she asked groggily, not looking at him.
“Only an hour.”
“Good.” Ella got up and then ran her hands over her scrubs. “I’d better check the trauma floor.”
Zac wanted to call after her as she hurried away, but he had to get control of himself.
The maintenance man was ignoring him as he picked up the broken doorknob and scratched his head. “Don’t know if I can fix this. It’s Christmas Eve and storming—might be hard to get a part in, Dr. Davenport.”
“Close down this room, then, Miles,” Zac said, reading the man’s name tag. “We can’t have any more staff locked in here. We’re running with a skeleton crew as it is.”
“I can take the door off, Dr. Davenport—that way staff can still rest,” Miles offered, clearly wanting to hash this out with Zac as he was the only Davenport on shift tonight. “And sorry about the brownout. This new system is having some hiccups tonight, what with the storm and issues with the city’s power grid.”
“It’s okay and the door idea sounds good,” Zac said quickly, trying to end the conversation he didn’t want to get sucked into. He wasn’t Charles or even his father.
He didn’t want to make these decisions for the hospital. All he wanted to do was save lives. He would leave the administration stuff to Charles or his father.
Of course, he was the only Davenport on duty and he’d left his brother and father in the lurch for a long time while he’d been on tours of duty. He hadn’t come home for many years.
He owed it to them.
Especially to Charles, who’d shouldered so much on his own.
Zac needed to step it up now. He couldn’t be so selfish.
“Okay, Dr. Davenport, and about the generators...”
“You do what you think is best, Miles, and I’ll approve it, but I have to get back to the trauma floor.”
Miles nodded. “Will do, Dr. Davenport.”
Zac left the on-call room and searched for any sign of Ella, but she’d vanished.
He wanted to talk to her about what had happened. To apologize again for kissing her. He didn’t want to lead her on. He didn’t want her to think that there was something there when there couldn’t be.
His pager went off.
Incoming trauma.
Right now he didn’t really have time to think about Ella or what had happened between them. The storm was starting to take its toll and while the storm raged, they would have a long day ahead of them.
He ran toward the emergency room.
Ella was in the fray, pulling on her disposable yellow trauma gown and gloves. Her blonde hair, which had been loose in the on-call room, was now drawn back in a tight bun. In the emergency room confidence radiated from Ella. In the thick of chaos she commanded respect. Though she was short and might be swallowed whole, she was a giant when it came to her patients.
Dr. Lockwood commanded her trauma team and brooked no fear.
And no one questioned her right to be there.
She barely glanced at him as she tossed him a gown before heading outside to wait in the snow, where a couple of interns were helping the maintenance man clear a path from the freshly plowed drive to the ER doors of the ambulance bay.
In the ambulance bay, it was slightly protected from the elements, but the wind was biting. The snow wasn’t as dense, but it still blew in blasts under the protective cement covering.
Ella stood beside him, her teeth chattering as they waited in silence with a couple of residents Then over the howl of the storm and wind they heard the faint siren of the ambulance as it approached.
His pulse began to thunder and even though it was bitterly cold, he could feel the sweat on his brow. The howl of the wind and the screech of the siren melted away and he could hear the sound of missiles. Screams.
He shook those thoughts away. Once he was back in the grind of trauma triaging he’d be okay.
“Zac!” Ella shouted, shaking him. “Look alive!”
“Right.”
Ella looked unsure. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?”
“I said I was fine. I’m tired, but I’ve got this. I can handle this,” Zac snapped as the ambulance pulled up, stopping in front of them. He jumped forward and tried to put Ella out of his mind.
Which was easier said than done.
* * *
Ella glanced at Zac across the turmoil of the emergency room. He was working on the passenger of the motor vehicle accident, while she was working on the driver. The car had spun out and the car had gone into a cement median, ejecting the passenger through the windshield.
It was a mess.
She’d been worried when Zac, once again, had seemed to zone out when the ambulance had been approaching. Like the noise of the storm, the cold and the ambulance itself had been too much of a sensory overload.
She’d studied post-traumatic stress disorder in medical school. Zac was a textbook case, but he stated he had been cleared.
He’d said he had control of his post-traumatic stress disorder.
She needed to know whether she had to pull him or not. Even though he was a Davenport and his brother Charles was in charge of the emergency room, she was still the most senior attending on duty at the moment.
Right here and now, this was her ER and she couldn’t jeopardize her patients or her staff.
Her patient moaned as she palpated his abdomen. He’d said that he was fine and that it was just his arm that was banged up, but the reaction to her palpation had her nervous about something more sinister beneath the surface.
“Mr. Jones, I’m going to just look at your abdomen.”
“It’s fine,” he said through pants and there was something about him, his movements that threw her off. It reminded her of a person going through drug withdrawal and she couldn’t help but wonder if he was an addict. Then she saw his arms. His veins and also his teeth were a mess.
Definitely a user. The labs would confirm it, but she had her suspicions.
I seriously doubt that you’re fine.
“I’m going to have a look all the same.”
She lifted his shirt and could see the dark discoloration of a bruise across his abdomen. As she palpated again, the belly was not tender but hard. There were no broken bones or bruises on his chest, so she had to assume that the steering wheel had not struck him.
Still, given the fact she suspected that he was a crystal meth user, she had to check to make sure that there was no tear in the aorta, which could result in an aortic dissection. Since he hadn’t died at the scene, she had to assume that the aorta was stable, but she was going to check it anyway.
“We need to get him a CT scan, stat, as well as an arteriogram,” Ella said to her resident. “Draw the standard labs and get the images done. Page me when you have the images and the lab findings.”
“Yes, Dr. Lockwood,” Dr. Lynne said, nodding quickly.
Ella headed over to the exam room where the passenger who had been ejected was not doing so well.
Zac had inserted a breathing tube and there was already another tube in her chest to drain away the fluids from a pneumothorax.
Ella stood back to watch. Zac wasn’t aware of her presence, but she really had nothing to fear about his momentary blip outside. He was completely in control of his exam room as he worked on the patient.
She moved from the exam room and went to check on some other patients while she waited for the images of the driver.
Those who were still in the emergency room were not many and weren’t as urgent as blunt force trauma, but they still needed to be seen. And she seriously doubted that they would be leaving any time soon with this storm.
First she dealt with a patient who was having a severe gall bladder attack. She had the labs drawn to check the liver panels and see if the gall bladder attack warranted emergency surgery or if they could wait.
Then there was a bad sprain and a bump on the head to check out.
Dr. Lynne returned and handed over the tablet with the images. “Here you are, Dr. Lockwood.”
The images showed internal bleeding from a ruptured spleen and the lab work revealed that the patient was indeed a crystal meth user. “We need to get him into the OR. I believe that OR One was prepped and ready to go.”
Dr. Lynne shook her head. “Dr. Davenport is in there with the passenger. The pneumothorax was extensive and there are no cardiothoracic surgeons at the hospital because of the storm.”
Dammit.
“Okay, well, prep OR Two, then. We need to get Mr. Jones in there before he bleeds out. Hang some blood to compensate for the loss while we prep.”
“Yes, Dr. Lockwood.” Dr. Lynne took back the tablet and left.
Ella felt exhaustion setting in as she glanced around the chaotic ER floor.
Dr. Lynne was her most capable resident and though she’d like to have her in the OR with her, Ella needed her on the ER floor while both the trauma surgeons who were still at Manhattan Mercy worked on patients.
Dr. Lynne would be able to run her ER while she went into surgery.
It was going to be a long day. And the longer this storm went on, the worse the casualties were going to get. There would be more accidents, more emergencies.
And she was going to be stuck here with Zac, working with him, but all she could think about was the kiss in the on-call room and that was a dangerous path to tread. One she’d promised herself she’d never walk again.
She had to get it together.
She needed more coffee.
A lot more coffee.
CHAPTER FOUR (#ua45c8e58-9265-5c1e-884b-ba3cf3e86704)
BY THE TIME Ella finished the splenectomy it felt like she’d run a marathon. Her whole body ached. She was tired, but she had no time to stop as she leaned over the scrub-room sink and rubbed her neck, trying to stretch herself.
Her feet were aching.
She had to stand on a stool to operate. Operating Room Two’s table didn’t go down low enough for her and Mr. Jones was a tall man. Taller than her. Her feet and her were not friends at the moment. They were screaming at her in protest for still working. When she went off she planned to get a good massage.
“You look tired,” Zac said as she leaned against the scrub-room door.
“You’re done?” she asked. Then he frowned and her stomach sank and she understood why he was done. “That bad.”
He nodded. “Even if a cardiothoracic surgeon had been available, there was just too much damage. She wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, the paramedics told me, and her blood was filled with crystal meth. Her tissue was so friable that sutures wouldn’t hold.”
Ella sighed. “Mr. Jones is stable but in the ICU. Splenectomy, and also his labs showed the drug in his system.”
Zac nodded. “I’ll give him some time before I tell him about his wife.”
Ella’s heart hurt. This was the worst part of the job. Especially in light of the holiday. “I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t need to, Ella. You’re exhausted.” There was concern on his face, as if he really cared about her, but she didn’t need his pity.
“I know, but he’s my patient and, it’s not like I haven’t delivered bad news before.”
Zac nodded. “A sad reality to our job.”
“Have you been down to the emergency room?” she asked as she stretched her back. “Do you know how it is?”
“The same as it was before.”
Ella tsked under her breath. “The calm before the storm.”
“Except it’s storming now.” He gave her a half-hearted smile at his pathetic joke and she couldn’t help but chuckle. “At least Charles’s new generator system is holding.”
“That’s something.” And she tried not to think of the chaos caused a couple of months ago, the last time the power had gone out.
“Want to go get some coffee before the fray?” Zac asked.
Ella nodded. “Yes.”
They walked side by side, not touching and not saying a word as they headed to the staffroom where they’d had their first run-in at the beginning of this crazy shift.
“Look, about that kiss...” He cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. I really didn’t mean that to happen. Just exhaustion. As you know, I haven’t been really sleeping.”
“Traumatic experiences can do that. I’m sorry your last tour was so hard.”
“It wasn’t,” he snapped. “I wish you’d let it go.”
“Zac, you had a near meltdown when those lights when out and then at Charles’s wedding...”
“What about Charles’s wedding?”
“The corks popping? You ducked under the table,” she said.
“I dropped my napkin. I don’t recall corks popping.” He laughed. “It’s absurd to think I’d hide from something like that. Really.”
“And the lights-going-out thing?”
“A momentary lapse. I have it under control. Just like the kiss. It was a lapse and it won’t happen again.”
Her cheeks heated in embarrassment. It stung that he was apologizing for something that had been wonderful, even if she hadn’t wanted it to happen again.
Liar.
“It’s okay. It was my fault. As for that not-sleeping thing, do you want to talk about it?”
“No, there’s nothing to discuss,” he said matter-of-factly. “I had a bit of insomnia, trying to get into the routine of working at Manhattan Mercy and living in New York again and not on a naval base or on a ship.”
“I bet that’s quite an adjustment,” she said, pushing him, and when he frowned at her, his eyes narrowing, she realized that perhaps she shouldn’t push him too far. Although there had been a time when they’d been younger when she and Zac had shared a lot.
This closed-off attitude...this wasn’t like Zac.
How do you know? You didn’t think Zac could hurt you like he did, but he did. He humiliated you. You don’t know him.
“It is.”
“Okay, but I’m here if you ever need to talk.”
“Thanks.” There was no sincerity in that remark. He wasn’t grateful, his tone was annoyed. And she knew there would be no discussion. Zac had thrown up a wall.
Even when they’d been young, there had been a wall. He’d hidden his emotions well. He’d played with a poker face, which was why she’d been duped all those years ago. For a brief moment she’d seen past the rebel and she’d got to see a glimmer of what she thought was the real Zac Davenport, the one she’d known before he’d become a teenager and a man, but after he’d humiliated her, she hadn’t known what to believe.
She didn’t trust him.
And she was having a hard time trusting him and his surgical abilities right now.
What if something else set him off?
Another loud noise?
He says he’s cleared.
Still, she knew what she’d seen at Charles’s wedding.
But she really had no proof so she could pull him.
The staffroom was thankfully empty and she poured herself a cup of tepid coffee and dumped a lot of sugar into it. It was probably more than was good for her, but she needed the boost. She sank down in the same chair she had been in earlier.
“Well, at least there’s no nurses lying in wait with plastic mistletoe like this morning,” he joked.
“They’re two emergency room nurses. Do you even remember their names?” she challenged.
“Uh, no...”
She shook her head. “You should get to know your staff better.”
He crossed his arms. “Oh, and what’re their names, then? Do you remember?”
Damn.
She always referred to them in her head as gold-digger one and two.
“Carol and...”
Zac grinned smugly. “You don’t know. Now who’s distancing who? You should really know your staff better.”
“I don’t distance myself from anyone.”
“Yeah, right. Those interns are terrified of you. You’re so formal. There’s a wall up around you, Dr. Lockwood.”
You’re one to talk about walls.
But she kept that thought to herself.
“I could easily page them and they’d be here in a flash,” she teased, changing the subject.
“No, thanks,” he said, and he sat down with a sigh, craning his neck to watch the snow still swirling and blowing outside. “Want to make a bet?”
“What?”
“Remember when we were younger we’d make bets? Like how long would it take for Charles to notice how many spitballs I could launch at the back of his head or who could outrun my brother Elijah after we prank-called his girlfriend?”
Ella chuckled. “Right, and we’d wager things like candy and stuff. I don’t have any candy.”
“How about a dare?”
She cocked her eyebrow. “Seriously? A dare? What’re you, like twelve?”
“You’re not chicken, are you?” Those blue eyes twinkled.
“No, but I am a professional and I have a reputation to uphold.”
Zac snorted. “Oh, yeah, I heard about that reputation. The bulldog, I believe it was referred to as.”
“Bulldog?” Her voice rose an octave and then she cleared her throat, annoyed by her nickname. “I’m hardly a bulldog.”
“It has nothing to do with appearance. Well, other than your height and the fact that you charge through. Tough.”
“Fine. I like that better.”
“You do have a lot more gumption than you did when you were younger. It’s refreshing.” He was giving her a compliment, but it embarrassed her instead. There was a reason she kept people at a distance and it was Zac’s fault.
It was easier than letting people in.
It was because of the way he’d humiliated her, crushed her hopes. The way he’d brushed her aside so easily that had made her work hard to overcome her debilitating shyness and stick up for herself. In a way she should thank him.
Still, the hurt was still raw, because Zac had been the one person she’d thought would never hurt her. She’d thought they were friends. And then more than friends.
“Medical school was tough. You don’t become a surgeon by hiding in the corner.”
“I never understood why you hid in a corner,” he said.
Don’t you?
“It’s hard to have a voice with a domineering mother.” She cleared her throat and changed the subject, didn’t want to talk about the way she had been. She was no longer that shy little girl in the frumpy clothes. The girl who was never comfortable in her own skin. The girl who was unpopular and shy. “So what did you want to bet on?”
“Snowfall. How many inches do you think?”
Ella snorted. “That’s a pretty pathetic bet.”
“What?” he asked, mildly outraged. “Why?”
“If we’re going to wager dares then you have to make the bet more interesting.”
“Like what?” he asked, leaning forward, those blue eyes and that devious smile making her heart skip a beat.
She drew a total blank. She had to think of something, but a resident knocked on the door.
“Excuse me, Dr. Lockwood?”
“Now’s your chance to prove you’re not so formal,” Zac whispered, but she ignored him.
Ella looked up. “Yes, Dr.—Yes, Ryan?”
The resident looked shocked. “Uh, Dr. Lockwood...”
“You can call me Ella when no one is around.”
Ryan the resident didn’t look convinced. “I have the liver enzyme panel of the patient complaining about chronic cholecystitis.” Dr. Trace handed Ella the tablet.
Zac leaned over her and whispered, “Was that so hard?”
“Shut up,” Ella mumbled, as she took the tablet.
“Pardon, Dr.—Ella?” Ryan asked nervously.
“Nothing.”
Ella frowned when she saw the high number of enzymes in the blood panel. It meant the liver was working too hard and soon it could cause inflammation to the pancreas known as pancreatitis, which was a worse infection than cholecystitis. And if there was a stone, fragments could break off a gallstone, blocking the bile duct or in very rare cases causing the gall bladder to rupture.
“Take the patient down for a CT scan. I need to know if there are stones blocking the bile duct. If the bile duct is clear, prep the patient for an emergency cholecystectomy by starting them on a course of antibiotics.”
“And if there are stones in the bile duct?” Dr. Trace asked.
“I don’t suppose Dr. So is in?” Ella asked hopefully.
“No, Dr. So is stuck in Boston.”
Dammit.
Ella could perform an emergency cholecystectomy as long as the bile duct was clear. If there were stones in the bile duct, the only way to remove them without doing an open laparotomy was to do an endoscopic retrograde cholangio-pancreatography or ERCP. An ERCP was a delicate procedure only done by trained surgeons, involving cutting into the sphincter of Oodi and sending a small instrument up the bile duct to crush or retrieve the stones.
Even then the ERCP came with complications and they weren’t always successful.
“Then we monitor the patient, give them morphine until Dr. So can return.”
“If the patient needs an ERCP, I can do one,” Zac said suddenly.
Ella was shocked. “You can do an ERCP? That’s a highly skilled endoscopic procedure.”
Zac nodded. “I know, but I was trained in a lot of different procedures when I was studying at Annapolis. I did a stint on a medical ship and since the particular medical frigate I was on couldn’t carry as many staff as a hospital that had specialists, surgeons on these ships were prepared for a lot of things. I can also do a crash C-section if need be.”
Ella was impressed and even Dr. Trace was looking at Zac with a gaze of admiration.
“Okay, Ryan, well, you heard Zac. Get the patient started on a round of IV antibiotics and down to CT.”
“Yes, Ella.” Dr. Trace took back the tablet and left the staff room.
“I’m impressed, Davenport. You really are a jack-of-all-trades.”
“Yeah, well, being on duty taught me a lot of things.” His expression changed and his brow furrowed, worry lines deepening, and he crushed the empty plastic cup in his hand.
What happened over there?
“I’m going to finish my rounds,” he said, standing up. “I know you’re here, but I’m officially on duty and I do have some rounds to attend to.”
Ella nodded. “Good. Once I hear about the patient I’ll have you paged, but if the bile duct is clear I can handle a laparoscopic cholecystectomy on my own.”
Zac didn’t look her in the eye. “Okay.”
That was all he said as he disappeared from the staffroom. The jovial, fun conversation was over and he was distant again. The wall was up and she wasn’t sure she should even bother trying to climb it.
Zac would never change.
And she was foolish to think he ever would.
* * *
“That is a nasty third-degree burn you have there. How did you get it?” Zac asked as he examined a patient’s forearm.
“Deep-frying the turkey.” The man winced. “Only my brother’s apartment in SoHo couldn’t really handle my deep-frying. We shorted the fuse and then the fat tipped over. I caught the turkey, though.”
Zac raised an eyebrow. “Deep-frying a turkey is a thing?”
“Oh, yeah,” the patient said. “I always deep-fry the turkey. Granted, my wife makes me do it outside, and we have way more property in Nashville, but my brother and his fiancée insisted we spend Christmas in Manhattan in a cramped apartment that they pay a ridiculous amount for.”
“Yes, that is true. Small apartments and large rents.” The burn would need to be debrided. There was a plastic surgeon resident at the hospital. The least he could do for this poor man was have his burn properly taken care of. “I’m going to page one of our plastic surgeons on call to help clean up the burn and then wrap it. Do you have a way home in this storm?”
“The cabbie could only get me so far and then I hiked in the rest of the way,” the patient said.
Zac nodded. “Well, you can stay here until the storm lets up and they clear the streets. If you’re not from New York you could get really turned around in this storm.”
“Thanks, Doc. I appreciate it.”
Zac turned to one of the nurses who had kissed him under that horrible fake mistletoe, but he couldn’t remember her name for the life of him. He’d berated Ella for not knowing or calling the residents by their first names and now he couldn’t remember this nurse’s name. So instead he plastered on one of those flirtatious Davenport smiles that he used to be famous for. “Nurse, can you page Dr. Onge to assist this patient?”
The smile worked and the nurse didn’t seem upset that he didn’t know her name.
“Of course, Dr. Davenport.”
“Thanks.”
He left the exam room as quickly as he could. He knew that women like that nurse were only interested in him because of his money, his name and his outward appearance. If they knew what a mess he was inside, they probably wouldn’t touch him with a thirty-foot pole.
Yes, they would. You said it yourself: money and prestige.
Prestige and the name. That’s all people saw in him, which was why he had been so adamant to head to Annapolis and get his medical training there, instead of at an Ivy league college. He had seen what marrying for money and prestige did to people in his parents’ circle.
His parents had seemed so happy, but obviously that wasn’t true. Even though he and his father hadn’t seen eye to eye on many things, it had shattered his whole world when it had come out that Hugo had had an affair. He couldn’t take it and instead of staying around for any of the fallout, the navy had been an escape for him. The navy had been his salvation, until that changed, and all he’d wanted was to be back in the safety of his family. Even though he hadn’t thought he deserved it.

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