by Ann Mcintosh
In fact, with the way his body stirred and hardened, it seemed the attraction was as strong as it had ever been.
The surprise of seeing her here in Miami sent a seismic shock wave through his system, and he drew a deep breath, pulling himself together before he moved forward.
“Dr. Regina Montgomery.” Although he tried to make the words friendly and professional, he heard the hint of roughness in his tone. “Fancy seeing you here.”
CHAPTER TWO
HEARING HER NAME in an unfamiliar male voice made Regina stiffen and, for some strange reason, had the hair on her nape stirring. It was difficult not to spin around immediately, but she forced herself to pause and then turn slowly, eyebrows raised.
The sight of the man striding toward her made her breath catch in her throat, even as her brain scrambled to ignore his sheer beauty and come up with his name.
But it was impossible not to take note of every little facet of his appearance. Dark hair cut in a casual, tousled style sat above a wide, intelligent brow. Striking eyes—shaded somewhere between gray and green—held a devilish twinkle. A sensuous mouth was tilted in a slightly lopsided smile, creating slashing dimples in his cheeks and making a frisson of heat skitter along her spine.
Then, like a flash, the name came to her, and forcing a small smile, she held out her hand.
“Dr. Herrera. What a pleasant surprise.”
A large, warm hand engulfed hers, sending a shock of awareness up her arm, but she somehow held her smile in place and didn’t pull away.
His eyebrows rose, and his smile widened. “I’m surprised you remember me. It’s been a long time.”
Oh, she remembered him all right. He’d been incredibly gorgeous, intelligent and personable, so much so that women in the hospital had made thinly veiled innuendos about wanting to be on the night shift with him. There’d been no mistaking what they’d meant, and realistically, she’d felt as though a shift in his bed wouldn’t have been a bad idea. But there was no way she’d risk her reputation and goals by suggesting such a thing, or even intimating it.
Even if he’d expressed an interest, and she’d been willing to indulge, as his supervisor it would have been extremely inappropriate.
But of course, she didn’t say any of that.
“I like to think I remember most of the residents I supervise,” she lied mildly, loosening her fingers so he let them go. “I take it you’re the nephrologist I’ve been waiting for?”
It seemed very important to move the conversation away from anything even remotely personal, and back to work.
“I am,” he replied, that smile still on his face sending another skitter along her spine. “What do we have going on?”
She handed him the tablet, Mrs. Morales’s chart already on the screen, and left him to look it over as she spoke to the nurse about another patient. It was, after all, her standard way of dealing with specialists—she provided them with the information they needed, and left them to draw their own conclusions.
Her need to focus anywhere but on Mateo Herrera had nothing to do with his looks, or the warmth swirling just beneath her skin.
Besides, he was probably married, with an equally gorgeous wife—who’d happily given up her own ambitions to become his appendage—popping out beautiful babies at respectable intervals. Somehow that image was enough to tamp down the rush of interest she felt at having those incredible eyes and lovely grin aimed her way.
Interest she had no business feeling, since she was totally and completely off men.
“You’re right to be concerned.” Regina looked up in time to see Mateo slide a calculator into the pocket of his lab coat as he spoke. “Let’s go and look in on Mrs. Morales. I’m going to need to do a full workup on her.”
She held up her hand to stop him from walking away.
“Before we go, you need to know that Mrs. Morales doesn’t speak much, if any, English. Spanish only.”
There went that lopsided smile again. Regina tightened her lips to stop herself from smiling back, but silly heat gathered in her chest, threatening to rise into her face.
“I’m fluent,” he replied, waving her ahead of him down the corridor. “There’s sometimes a bit of confusion with idioms and localized dialects, but between me and the patient, we can usually work it out.”
“Great,” she replied, heading off, chastising herself, despite knowing her reactions were normal. No red-blooded woman could avoid being affected by this man. She was sure of it.
“That’s one of the things I remember best about you—your refusal to make assumptions about anything, even whether a man named Mateo Herrera can speak Spanish or not.”
Keeping her gaze firmly trained ahead to avoid looking at him, she replied, “In our line of work assumptions can kill. I’m always checking myself to make sure I’m not taking shortcuts or allowing implicit bias to throw me off track.”
“I think I remember hearing you tell one of the residents that exact thing.” She could hear the smile in his voice but steadfastly refused to check and see if it was reflected in his eyes. “So, when did you move to Florida?”
The change of subject surprised her, and she replied without thinking. “I haven’t. I’m here as a locum for six weeks, filling in for Dr. Nguyen while she’s on maternity leave.”
“Hmm... Does that mean you’ve left Charthouse Memorial and become an itinerant doctor?”
He sounded skeptical, and Regina shot him a frowning glance but saw only curiosity in his expression.
“Would that be a bad thing?” She heard the defensiveness in her voice and cursed herself for it. What she chose to do with her life was none of his—or anyone else’s—business.
“Not at all. In fact, it sounds interesting and almost idyllic. I just pictured you rising to the top somewhere, and I doubt you’d be able to do that, moving from place to place.”
He’d surprised her again, because his assessment of her ambition was spot-on. Somehow hearing that made her relax her usual rigid rules regarding discussing personal matters with colleagues.
“I left Charthouse about six years ago, but I’m still in the Bay Area.” Charthouse was the teaching hospital where Mateo had started his residency. She’d been offered a more lucrative position across the Bay, in Oakland, and with the opportunity for advancement, she’d taken it. “I recently decided I needed a change, but not a permanent one, so I took sabbatical leave, and here I am.”
“Staving off burnout?”
There was no mistaking his curiosity now, but she’d be hung, drawn and quartered before she discussed with him her reasons for taking time off.
“Something like that,” she replied, making her voice brisk and rather quelling.
“I see.” They’d reached the door to Mrs. Morales’s room, and Mateo took hold of the handle but didn’t open it. “Well, I’d like to invite you out to dinner, as a welcome.”
Oh, hell no. She hadn’t come to Florida to get tangled up in any kind of relationship, even a friendly one. And if she was reading the gleam in Mateo Herrera’s eyes correctly, he definitely had a different type of entanglement in mind.
So a crisp but polite “No” was what she intended to say. What came out of her mouth instead was, “With you and your wife?”
His eyebrows rose.
“I’m afraid I don’t have one of those. Never got around to it.”
A playboy, then. Or a liar, since she couldn’t fathom why such a prime specimen of man was still on the shelf.
It would be stupid, though, to lie to her about it, since they were working in the same hospital and it wouldn’t take much to check through the grapevine.
Before she could come up with a fitting response, Mateo continued, “What about you? Did you end up marrying that neurosurgeon you were dating?”
That he would remember something so trivial surprised her—and cau
sed her unwanted but unmistakable delight.
“How on earth did you remember that?”
He shrugged, his lips quirking. “I think it was the bunches of red roses he kept filling your office with that made it stick in my mind.”
A huff of amusement broke from her lips before she could stop it. “Ah, that was in the waning days of our relationship, when he was trying to convince me that marrying him, and giving up my career to have his babies, was the best thing that could happen to me.”
Mateo’s eyebrows almost disappeared into his hairline this time. “Did he ask if that was what you wanted?”
“Why would a neurosurgeon want to know what was going on in his girlfriend’s brain?” she deadpanned, and was rewarded with Mateo’s laughter.
Yet, he was still blocking the door, and it seemed that the sensual gleam in his eyes deepened.
“So you’re not married?” he asked, and although neither of them had moved, he seemed closer, and the conversation far too intimate. An electric current ran between them as his eyes darkened, and it took every ounce of control not to lick her lips and to keep her face impassive.
“Never got around to it,” she replied, using his own words, but giving them a clipped, almost dismissive edge.
That seemed to get through to him, since he only nodded and opened the door, standing back so she could pass.
As she did, her entire side warmed, as though from his body heat, although she knew full well it was just her heightened physical awareness. There was something about Mateo Herrera that made her decision to avoid men seem far harder than it should.
* * *
Oh, she’s one cool customer.
Regina sailed past him like a queen, leaving a clean, slightly flowery scent eddying in her wake. Mateo inhaled deeply, savoring it, along with the knowledge that despite her demeanor, the attraction he felt wasn’t one-sided.
He wasn’t sure how he could be so certain, but he was. Trying to figure out the clues that led him to that conclusion would be an interesting exercise for later, but right now he had a patient to see.
The seduction of Regina Montgomery would have to be delayed—but he was determined it wouldn’t be denied. Fate had gifted him with an opportunity he wasn’t prepared to pass up.
Since the last of his siblings had moved out of the house they’d all shared, he’d been overtaken by an ebb in energy and a sense of drifting without purpose. Spending time planning out a new, more focused future hadn’t stemmed the sense of lassitude hounding him.
Now he suddenly felt rejuvenated. Reinvigorated.
And it was because of the woman who’d preceded him into the room.
She seemed to embody the type of no-strings-attached adventure he needed to get him out of his present funk.
There were four beds and three patients, with Mrs. Morales in the farthest one from the door, on the right. Unlike the other two women, she was awake, and watched as Mateo pulled the curtain around her bed closed.
Then she held out her hand, and Regina took it, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.
That, too, was something he remembered from when she’d been his supervisor—her innate ability to put patients at ease, without seeming to work at it at all. She was neither jocular nor overtly friendly, but something about her calm competence spoke loudly to patients and their families alike. Seeing how she interacted with patients and how they responded to her had stuck with him and given him an ideal to aspire to. While their personalities were very different, he now realized he’d unwittingly adapted his bedside manner to achieve the same result.
Greeting the patient and introducing himself in Spanish earned him a tentative smile, but he saw Regina use her free hand to pat the old woman’s, as though to comfort her.
He kept his voice soothing, and coaxed the information he needed from Mrs. Morales in small chunks, hoping to keep her calm. From the chart he knew her blood pressure and heart arrhythmia were problems, and didn’t want to exacerbate them by being too pushy.
Besides, she kind of reminded him of his paternal grandmother, so she brought out the gentle side of him.
By the time he’d finished examining Mrs. Morales and gotten her history and symptoms, the elderly lady was smiling and calling him Papito. She even reached up and patted his cheek. Glancing at a silent Regina, he saw her fighting back a smile. Or maybe laughter.
He could hardly stop himself from grinning back.
“I’ve explained to her that, with her symptoms, we need to do further testing on her kidney function, and she’s agreed,” he said to Regina. “Until I have those results, it’s impossible to know whether diminished kidney function is causing her heart problems, although it’s a definite possibility.”
“That was my concern, too,” Regina said, giving Mrs. Morales’s hand one more pat before releasing it. “I’m still waiting for Cardiology to send their recommendations, but I’d like a complete picture before I proceed.”
The door from the corridor opened as Mateo was making notes, outlining the specific tests he wanted run, and he looked up when one side of the curtain was thrown open, revealing cardiologist Dr. Morgan Welk. Behind him was one of the younger cardiologists, whose expression suggested he’d rather be anywhere else but where he found himself.
Or perhaps it was the company he was being forced to keep that gave him that rather uncomfortable look. It wasn’t be any surprise to Mateo, who found Welk to be an irritating bully.
It took every scintilla of professionalism Mateo had to keep his expression neutral and not allow his dislike of the older man to show.
“What are you doing here?” Welk asked, his tone aggressive. “This is a cardiac patient.”
Before Mateo could reply, Regina spoke, her voice calm but with an unmistakable thread of steel running through it.
“I called for a nephrology consult on Mrs. Morales.”
Welk slowly turned his gaze her way, lifting his chin, looking down his nose at her, despite the fact that he was actually shorter.
“And you are?”
“Dr. Montgomery, internist in charge of Mrs. Morales’s care.”
“I don’t know you.” Now he sounded peevish, as though having someone new in the hospital was a personal affront.
“Nor I you,” she replied. She even had that cool, distancing smile still firmly affixed on her face, as though neither annoyed nor surprised by the older man’s behavior. “Yet, here we are.”
Welk’s mouth opened and closed a couple of times, as though he could hardly believe what he was hearing.
“Now, young lady—”
“Dr. Montgomery,” Regina interjected, her smile not wavering for an instant. “And you are?”
Once more Welk seemed stunned, but then, with something that sounded suspiciously like a curse under his breath, he spun on his heel and headed for the door.
“I won’t have my time wasted like this,” he said, over his shoulder. “When you get your act together, let them know upstairs.”
“Thank you,” Regina replied, making sure he could hear her clearly. “I’ll make a note on the file that Cardiology refused to examine the patient or give their input.”
That stopped him in his tracks, as it would any doctor in their right mind. Just thinking about what the legal department would have to say should something like that come to light was enough to make even an ass like Welk rethink.
When Welk turned back around, his face was red, and he spoke through clenched teeth.
“That isn’t the case. But I don’t have time to waste, trying to work around Herrera, while he does...whatever it is he’s doing.”
“Not a problem,” Mateo said, taking a leaf out of Regina’s book and giving the older man a thin smile. “I’m finished.”
Then he took his leave of Mrs. Morales, telling her he’d see her in a little while,
and stepped away from the bed.
“Let me know your thoughts, please, after you reexamine Mrs. Morales.” Regina spoke to Welk in the same calm way, but again the hint of steel was clear. “I’ve been waiting for the cardiology report.”
Then, before he could do more than growl, she gave Mrs. Morales a smile and a wave, and was on her way out of the room.
Mateo was only a step behind her when she got to the door, and he held it open for her to go through.
If he’d been attracted to her before, it was nothing in comparison to how he felt now, having seen her so effortlessly and efficiently put Welk in his place. He wanted to see her away from the hospital, finally get a chance to break through that cool shell, to see what lay beneath.
Yet, having seen her handle Welk, he knew he’d have to step lightly, even when everything inside wanted to push, to insist. Even to demand.
But before he could say anything, Regina beat him to it.
“About dinner... I don’t think it would be a good idea.”
A casual approach seemed the best bet, although he was feeling decidedly eager to get her to himself, even if just for a while. So he gave her a bland smile.
“What’s so bad about two old colleagues who haven’t seen each other in years having a bite to eat and catching up?”
Her gaze searched his, and her lips tightened just a little at the corners.
Then she shrugged. “When you put it like that...”
Yes!
CHAPTER THREE
BY THE EVENING after her first seven-day shift, Regina felt as though she had a handle on the way the hospital worked. Pouring herself a glass of wine, she stepped out onto the tiny balcony of her executive rental and subsided into a chair.
Taking a deep breath of the warm night air, she let it out again on a sigh. Back in San Francisco, the temperature would be in the fifties—if they were lucky—but here in Miami it was warmer, and dry. She’d laughed to herself, hearing some of her new workmates complain about the January cold. Apparently, anything under eighty-five degrees was an excuse to pull on a sweater, or even a coat.