by Tina Beckett
Then she turned and walked away, leaving Nate standing there in shock. Had Sasha said something to her after all? Or was her mom simply reading signs that weren’t there.
He was going to go with the latter. And if he was the one giving off some kind of vibe he was going to have to cut it off at the knees. And if it was Sasha?
Well, he was going to have to make sure she understood exactly where they stood. And that was nowhere.
One of the nurses came in and interrupted his thoughts. “Mr. Blankenship would like to meet with you and talk about his wife’s skin cancer surgery.”
“Of course. I’ll be right there.”
Merriam Blankenship was an award-winning actress who’d starred in countless movies. She was at the height of her career, only to have it almost sidelined by a melanoma diagnosis on her left cheek. With what could be a disfiguring surgery looming on the horizon, she’d chosen to come to The Island Clinic to have the removal and reconstruction done. Nate and the plastic surgeon who worked out of the clinic had warned them it could take up to a year. Tendrils of the cancer had infiltrated the bone below it and it was going to be tricky to get clean margins, much less leave a smooth symmetrical result. There would be bone and skin grafts, and there was always the risk of nerve damage.
But this was what he was here for. Their plastic surgeon was one of the best in the world. And the Blankenships had already poured a huge sum into the Saint Victoria Foundation. The cost of privacy, they’d said. Nate had laid the base for that private foundation, using his own trust fund. The least he could do was guarantee the Blankenships got what they wanted.
His parents were top in the plastic-surgery field, and maybe he should have consulted with them on this case, but he couldn’t bring himself to make that call.
There were only a few doctors at The Island Clinic who actually knew that Jackson and Sheryl Edwards were his parents. They’d worked on many A-list clients just like Merriam Blankenship. But Merriam didn’t want to do this under the spotlight of Los Angeles, and he couldn’t blame her.
So putting Sasha firmly out of his mind, he headed to the elevator and the second floor, where The Island Clinic’s newest high-profile patient was waiting.
* * *
Sasha was taking a break in the staff lounge, eating a forbidden Danish when Nate walked in. She tried to banish the look of guilt that she knew was splashed across her face.
“Hey, can I have a word?”
She still had a big bite of the pastry in her mouth, so forced herself to chew. And chew and chew before finally swallowing. If this had to do with what had happened in the sea yesterday, she was going to wish she’d choked on that Danish.
“Um sure.” She glanced at the chair next to her.
But Nate didn’t sit down. He just stood there for a minute. The sugar in the pastry she’d just eaten soured in her stomach.
Another doctor came into the room and took one look at them and quickly grabbed a water and excused himself.
Great. Just what she wanted. To look like she was having some cozy interlude with the chief of staff from The Island Clinic.
A place she’d scoffed about to Patty.
But hadn’t she had that cozy interlude? Down by the beach?
Yes. But she didn’t want anyone else to know about it. Not even Patty. Surely he hadn’t...
“Er...no one knows about...”
“I was just going to ask you the same thing.” His face held a seriousness she hadn’t seen since they’d operated on that accident victim at The Island Clinic.
He thought she’d told someone? “No, I haven’t said anything. To anyone.”
“You didn’t come to the meeting last night, and your mom said something odd to me.”
“She did?”
“I just wanted to make sure it didn’t have anything to do with what happened.”
What had her mother said now? “I didn’t say anything to her. At all. And I won’t.”
“Okay, thanks.” A beat went by. “Do you think we could have lunch? Where no one from the hospital has a chance to overhear?”
Great. He was going to make sure she knew that the sea sex meant nothing.
Sea sex. That sounded like something out of an old tongue twister. Susie sells sea sex by the seashore.
Sasha laughed, but it came out half-choked. That damned Danish! That’s what she got for sneaking stuff she wasn’t supposed to have.
Like Nate?
Her laughter dried up in a hurry. “Sorry. I just always seem to get caught doing something I shouldn’t.”
“We...didn’t get caught.”
“Not that. This.” She pushed the plate forward. “I swore off sugar.”
“Ah.” He actually smiled. “So if I offered to buy you a sugarless lunch, would you accept?”
“Why?”
“I just wanted to make sure we’re on the same page about things.”
She stiffened her back. “I’m pretty sure we are.” Was he expecting her to cry and beg him not to throw her away?
Too late. She’d already done that with Austin. Without the begging part. She was not anxious to repeat that mistake. Which was why she should go to lunch with him. If only to assure him that she had no designs on his person or anything else.
Liar. She did have designs on his person. But only in the physical sense. As for the emotional sense she was free and clear. At least she hoped she was. If not, she was going to make sure she reached that point. So maybe she should hear him out. It would drive home the fact that he was not interested in her.
“Maybe. But I still would like to go somewhere where we can have a little privacy. I have something for you.”
He did? Her heart leaped in her chest. Stop it, Sasha! He doesn’t mean it that way.
“This was actually supposed to be my lunch break. So maybe somewhere ‘sugarless’ would be better.”
“Okay, I know a place down the street that pretty much fits that bill.”
A few minutes later they were seated in a place that was known for its conch soup and fried seafood. She wasn’t sure it qualified as being healthier than her Danish, but it was delicious. And she’d eaten here more than once. She was actually surprised that Nate hadn’t taken her somewhere fancier. Someplace that fit in with his fancy clinic.
She frowned at the thought, pushing it from her head.
Studying the menu for a minute, she chose a bowl of the soup and half a sandwich, while Nate ordered the soup plus a plate of fried clam strips and chips, with a side of cocktail sauce.
When their food arrived, Nate pulled a small paper bag out of his pocket and handed it to her under the table. “I needed to return this, but didn’t want to do it at either of our hospitals.”
“Return...” She placed the bag next to her plate and started to open it, when he placed his hand over hers. “I don’t think you’re going to want to do that in here.”
Suddenly she knew what it was and her face blazed with heat. She’d totally forgotten about them, had assumed they’d been swept away with the tide. Evidently, he’d retrieved them, somehow. Or had they appeared on the beach near the clinic later? The heat in her face turned into an inferno. “Um...thanks. I’m glad I didn’t litter. You could have just tossed them though.” She shoved the bag in the deepest darkest recesses of her purse. Had he washed them? The thought of him pulling them out of the washing machine was even worse. Or of them being plastered against his own laundry and him having to slowly peel them apart. More heat drummed at her temples. A very different kind of heat.
“I thought about it, but then wondered if you’d worry about what happened to them. Or the thought that you’d ‘littered’...” he smiled as he reused her term “...or that they’d reappear somewhere more public. And you walked back to the clinic so fast afterward that there was no time to hand them to you.”
> He was right. She had made a beeline all the way back to the boardwalk and beyond. Once her senses returned, she hadn’t wanted to dissect what had happened, just figured if they didn’t talk about it, they were both free to let it drop.
Like she’d done with her underwear.
Sayè!
“Okay, well, thanks.” Her appetite had suddenly deserted her. “Is this why you wanted to bring me here?”
“Partly. But I also wanted to apologize.”
“Oh, please. Don’t.” He’d already apologized for the other stuff. She couldn’t bear it if he went into some huge monologue about how badly he felt about them tumbling around in the waves too. “I don’t regret what happened. Any of it.”
Really? Really?
Hadn’t she regretted it so much that she hadn’t been able to show her face at the meeting last night, afraid she’d be undressing him with her eyes the whole time? She hadn’t actually gotten to see much of him in the water. But the parts that she’d felt...
“I don’t regret it either. But I also don’t want it to affect our working relationship. And I certainly don’t want to be the reason why you...”
He seemed to be struggling to say something. But he needn’t bother. “Listen. I went into that water knowing exactly where things stood, if that’s what you’re trying to get at. I don’t expect anything of you, and I don’t think you expect anything of me. I haven’t been with anyone in a long time, and things just got...carried away. But it was nice and I...enjoyed it.”
The words were ludicrous. She made it sound like she’d read a pleasant book.
His lips twitched. “Good to know it was nice. But I also wanted you to know that I don’t make a habit of sleeping with colleagues. I know how messy that can get. How much it can hurt when things don’t turn out the way you expect them to.”
Something in his face. The way he was avoiding her eyes right now. Was that...pity?
Oh, hell, no. “Exactly what did my mother say to you?”
“Say?”
“Don’t even act like you don’t know what I’m talking about.”
His smile was crooked. And worried. “You two are far too much alike, did you know that? She made me promise to keep it to myself.”
This took the cake. Actually she should have finished that Danish. She could use a shot of sugar right now. “Did she guess about...you know? Is that why she said something?”
“I don’t think so. I thought at first maybe you’d told her and that’s why she brought up Austin.”
At the sound of that name, her soup curdled in her stomach. “I’m pretty sure she would have confronted me, if she’d guessed.”
“Well, I came to the same conclusion, that it was a genuine slip of the tongue. It came out after she mentioned your dad and how hard his loss was.”
Sasha took a deep breath, her anger dissipating immediately. “Yes, I can see her linking the two. I’m just embarrassed that she brought him up. I was stupid and naive, back then, and had never been around men with money before.”
“Whether he had money or not shouldn’t have made any difference. What the man did was wrong. And I wanted to make sure I hadn’t inadvertently hurt you, as well.”
It had been pity. But hadn’t she felt a trace of that when he’d told her about Marie? About how broken he’d been by her death?
Maybe it wasn’t pity. Maybe it was just...compassion. Understanding.
“You didn’t hurt me. I knew what was what when we went into that water. Now, if you had professed your undying love for me only to retract it a few days later, I might have cut you up and fed you to the fish. But you didn’t. And I didn’t. So it’s all good.”
Even if he had said he loved her, she wouldn’t have believed him. She was far too wise to be taken in by pretty words nowadays. Fortunately he’d not tossed any her way.
That made her smile. “Did your wallet end up being ruined?”
“More or less. It was fun explaining to my bank and creditors how my credit cards got lost in the sea.”
“Will they reissue everything?”
“Yep. I should have them in a few days.”
“I’m glad. And your shoes?”
“They dried out. A little buffing, and they should be passable again.”
Her smile widened. She felt kind of like his shoes. A little buffing here and there and she should be passable again too. Right now, though, she still felt just a little vulnerable and quick to jump to conclusions whenever he said something. “I’m glad. And I’m very glad that part of the beach is so private.”
Which made her wonder if he’d towed some other woman over to his “secret spot” and done the same thing. Except his earlier words made her think that he hadn’t. At least not one of his colleagues. For that she was glad.
And if that first wave hadn’t hit, they probably wouldn’t have wound up in the predicament they had. At least they had an excuse for both of them returning soaked. She was pretty sure they weren’t the first people who had been surprised by one of those crazy waves.
Luckily, once Nate had caught up with her, he’d sneaked her into one of the hotel rooms and let her dry her clothes and hair with one of the handheld hair dryers. She assumed he’d done the same in another room. Of course they did have an apartment block for the staff, from what she’d heard, so maybe he lived in one of them. Although he’d been wearing the same clothes when he came back to check on her. She’d driven her car over, so she’d hurried away before he had a chance to say much.
“I am, as well. And that we opted not to put cameras on any of the beaches out of respect for some of our more sensitive patients.”
Yikes, she hadn’t even thought about cameras. Surely he wouldn’t have carried her into the water if there had been any. Of course it would have saved her from the embarrassing moment of having her underwear passed to her under the table.
But she’d told him the truth. She didn’t regret going into that water. The experience had been exhilarating—freeing in a way she couldn’t describe—and she’d probably never do anything like it again. Someday when she was a granny she’d probably think about that day with pride.
Unless she was never a grandmother.
Okay, Sasha. Not something you need to think about right now.
She spooned the last bit of conch soup into her mouth. Funny how what had tasted like cardboard a few moments earlier now tasted pretty darned good.
“How was your conch?”
“It’s never failed to please.”
The words And how was I? sang through her head. But of course she was never ever going to ask him that question.
“My mom actually gave them the recipe for the soup.”
His brows went up in a way she was beginning to recognize. “You’re kidding.”
“I’m not. I hear she’s planning on making it for the gala. It was my grandmother’s recipe, originally.”
He leaned forward. “Listen. I really need to thank you for suggesting we hire out to local companies. I think this year’s fund-raiser is going to be a big hit with the folks who attend.”
“I hope so. I wondered after I suggested it. I hope they don’t hate it all. You’re taking a risk by agreeing.”
“I think I can safely say the people who come are going to love everything about it. Some of them might never want to leave Saint Victoria.”
“Like you?”
He smiled. “Yes. Like me.”
And just like that, they were on ground that felt more stable and less like quicksand. Somehow knowing that he never wanted to leave made her heart feel lighter than it had in the last couple of days. There’d been a tiny part of her that wondered what his plans for the future were. Well, it sounded like he had every intention of staying for the foreseeable future. “You know, I hear they have a great crème brûlée here.”
> “I thought you were swearing off sugar.”
“I am. But since I already ruined my resolution with the Danish back at the staff lounge, I might as well hold off on renewing that vow until tomorrow.”
He raised his hand to signal their waiter. “And that sounds like the best plan I’ve heard all day.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
WAS THAT LACY underwear still in her purse?
Nate spied Sasha just as he was wheeling Bill Waddel, their heart attack patient, through the double doors of the ER.
“They said you were coming through here. I’m so glad to see you.”
The low, husky words should have made his chest tighten, except Sasha’s eyes weren’t on him, they were on Bill.
“I’m feeling much better. I wanted to thank you and Dr. Edwards for everything you did.”
She smiled. “I think the cardiologist over at The Island Clinic is the one you should thank. We were short-staffed when you arrived and our cardiologist was stuck in surgery. It looks like they got you all patched up though.”
“Two stents later, yes. I still have to go through cardiac rehab. I’m sure losing weight and eating better will be on the menu, but I’m willing to do anything to make sure I live to see my first grandchild who’s due next month.”
Only then did she glance up at Nate. The smile was still on her face, but she seemed a little more stiff than she had at the restaurant. It had been a couple of days since he’d seen her, though; he’d been busy trying to get things for the gala nailed down. And he’d heard that Marcus Warren, the doctor from Saint Victoria Hospital who’d been taking care of an ill relative, was back at work as of yesterday, so they hadn’t needed him as much.
“Don’t let me forget. I have something for you,” she said.
She did? Those were almost the exact same words he’d used when he’d talked to her a couple of days ago. He hadn’t left a piece of clothing in the sea, though.
Just the thought sent memories sliding through the deepest recesses of his brain. With it, came a question. Had the condom done its job even with everything so...wet? As in the sea water?