by Risk, Mona
“We said good-bye once and for all, years ago.” Without looking at him, she raised her chin in the stubborn way he recalled too well and accelerated her pace.
“But you promised you would call.”
“Only if I needed help.” She shrugged, indicating she’d managed well on her own, so far.
Damn her independent spirit, her assertive tone that shut him out and constricted his chest.
Then why had she asked him back through McMillan’s invitation? What did she want from him?
Her smooth forehead and blank expression revealed none of her feelings. He longed to take her in his arms, melt her cool composure and hear her brazen moans. Old memories popped up, causing his muscles to tighten.
All in time, Lucien. He clenched and unclenched his fingers as he struggled to soothe his frustrated mind and cool his overheating body. Right now, he was happy to be with her again.
“Did you have a good trip?” Olivia asked, without slowing her steps.
“Great.” He didn’t mind the mundane conversation. Later, there would be plenty of time for intimate subjects. “McMillan was at the airport to receive me. He insisted I should stay at his house for the next three months.”
“In a way you’ll be doing him a favor. He’s leaving for California in a couple days. Did he mention you’ll have to feed the two dogs?” She tilted her head, green sparkles dancing in her eyes with barely concealed irony.
He chuckled. “I did not see any dogs last night.”
“They were probably locked in the basement. Trust me I’ve often house-sat for the McMillans. A fabulous mansion in Indian Hill, but a lot of responsibilities.”
“In that case I will count on you to help me.” He stepped closer. His blood raced with anticipation as he mulled over asking her to share the accommodation and chores with him.
“I don’t have much time on my hands with Doc teaching at Berkeley during his sabbatical.” Her cold tone left no doubt she’d understood his meaning and cut him right off.
Patience, Lucien. This was Olivia strolling next to him. At long last.
Difficult to believe. His Olivia.
Not one of the gorgeous women who’d paraded on his arm over the years. Staying away from her for so long had only reinforced his desire for her. Forgotten tingles spiraled through his gut. He wanted her back in his arms. Soon.
As they entered the cafeteria, the aroma of a hearty American breakfast wafted in the air. McMillan joined them at the buffet line. Luc loaded his tray with pancakes, eggs and sausage. Olivia chose a yogurt and a cup of coffee from the wide variety of items arranged on the counters.
They settled at a table near the wall. Luc attacked his pancakes with a hearty appetite, while Olivia spooned her yogurt ever so slowly, as if she planned to spend the whole day eating that small cup. Bon Dieu, with her figure, she didn’t need to watch her diet.
A throaty grumble came from the next chair. “Dr. Lucien—”
“Please call me Luc, the nickname I use in the U.S.”
McMillan chuckled. “It’s your last name that trips up my tongue. I can’t get myself to remember the dozen syllables.”
“My name used to be Luc George when I joined the University of Cincinnati, ten years ago.”
“So, you two knew each other then?” McMillan rubbed his chin, his gaze flitting from Luc to Olivia.
Luc raised his eyebrows and studied the very quiet Olivia. Her fingers flexed on her coffee cup. She turned her head toward the crowd invading the cafeteria, ignoring him.
Luc felt compelled to explain. “Olivia and I met at CUH during the year I spent here, specializing in sexual abuse disorders.”
“I see. It must have been during the time I spent in England. But you never returned, right?”
“No, not to Cincinnati. I had no specific reason until you invited me.” Luc shot a quick look at McMillan, then his gaze settled on Olivia’s profile.
Why had she called him back?
Her chest rose, straining against the silk blouse, as she glanced sideways. Luc moistened his lips. When would he be able to have a private moment with her?
“But you often came to America according to your résumé.” McMillan frowned while forking up his eggs.
With effort, Luc shifted his attention away from his gorgeous companion to concentrate on McMillan’s comment. “I have given seminars at various conferences in New York, San Francisco, and Houston, and I spent time as visiting physician at Columbia and Northwestern,” he recited, wishing McMillan would get paged away.
Olivia turned toward Luc, her aqua eyes wide in surprise. “And you’ve agreed to come to UC?”
“Of course.” How could she doubt that the University of Cincinnati would top the Ivy League universities in his mind? “In a way UC is my alma mater too.”
An endearing flush spread across her cheeks. His fingers itched to caress her slender neck, and he longed to trail kisses along her delicate jaws. He dug his nails into his palms and smiled at her. Years ago, he’d memorized every inch of her satiny skin, every line and curve.
As soon as they could be alone, he’d convince her that his feelings had not changed. In fact, they’d amplified tenfold over the years.
McMillan pushed out his chair and stood. “I’ve an important appointment about a grant for our department. Luc, maybe you can go with Olivia and re-familiarize yourself with our Crisis Center.”
Olivia’s wary gaze flew toward McMillan. “I have a patient in fifteen minutes. Luc is probably tired from yesterday’s long trip.”
“Not at all. I slept all night long. I would rather start my job right away and sit in with you during your patient’s visit, if you do not mind.”
She hesitated, then shrugged. “Sure.”
He focused on her face, puzzled by her frown and the thin line of her lips. She wouldn’t have shared their past relationship with her boss, so she’d feel forced to curb her emotions in McMillan’s presence. Luc refrained from any comments until they dropped off their trays and McMillan left.
“We should get going then,” she said.
Luc motioned for her to lead the way. As they strode toward the Crisis Center, he asked, “Olivia, McMillan does not know?”
“Know what?” Her beautiful eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“About us.”
“Of course not. I don’t share personal matters with my colleagues or my boss.” She looked away and climbed the stairs of the Crisis Center.
Luc followed her, his gaze fixed on her rigid spine. She wasn’t acting the way he’d expected. No lingering smile, no enthusiastic words, not even eye contact to allow him to glimpse her feelings.
A memory played in his mind. The awful night she’d told him to go home and forget about her. She’d had that same mutinous and frustrated look.
Something was wrong.
As they entered the consultation room,Luc slipped his hand into his blazer pocket and fingered the official letter. McMillan had issued the invitation because the Department of Psychiatry needed Luc’s expertise. And Luc, who wanted firsthand experience of the differences between American and French methods in psychiatric evaluation, had also agreed to coauthor the Diagnostic Manual of Mental Disorders with his American colleagues.
What about Olivia? She was the enigma that challenged him. Hoping she was interested in rekindling a passion he’d never been able to forget, he tried to stifle the doubt that slithered into his mind.
Would she have recommended him if she didn’t want him in her life now?
CHAPTER TWO
“Patricia, you hit your husband with a frying pan containing boiling oil?” Olivia suppressed a frown. In her seven-year career as a psychiatrist, she’d heard thousands of crazy stories in this consultation room.
Her hands flattened on the arms of her chair as she glanced at Luc. He nodded imperceptibly. A practiced consultant, he sat in a corner so he wouldn’t disturb her patient with an extra presence, and listened without interfering.
The shy, jittery woman, slumped into a chair next to Olivia, raised her hands in a what-else-could-I-do gesture. “No, not hot. The damn pan’d been sitting for a while. It wasn’t even warm, for crying out loud.” Patricia scooted to the edge of her chair, laced her fingers together and twisted them. “He banged me on my head. Then he threw me on the floor. I wanted to get rid of him.”
“I understand, Patricia. You were defending yourself.” Olivia’s heart went out to the abused patient.
“He said he’d take my baby. He’d never let me see him.” Her eyes filling with tears, Patricia pressed her fist against her mouth. Her gaze flickered around the room like a trapped animal and settled on the door as if she feared someone might burst through it. “My husband is a butcher, way too brutal. His punches could have killed my Andy.”
“Believe me, Patricia, I understand.” Olivia considered her with sympathy. I understand more than you could ever imagine. “You were defending your son when you hit your husband.”
“He turned around and took a can of beer from the fridge. My jaw hurt so much. And my ear. But I got up. I grabbed the pan and hit him on the head. He just dropped to the floor.” The woman hugged herself and closed her eyes. Her whole face shrank into a wrinkled mask of fear.
“You were very brave to retaliate.” Olivia pursed her lips. Her head tilted, she surveyed the six framed diplomas hanging on the wall as a reminder of her accomplishments.
She’d worked hard to become a respected psychiatrist, but long ago she hadn’t had the courage to hit back. As she lowered her head, her gaze met Luc’s. She read a question in his arched eyebrows, a disturbing thought that threatened her well-practiced control. Schooling her expression, she focused her attention on her patient. “You saved yourself.”
“I had to get away. For Andy. He’s only two.” The woman shook her head as tears flooded her eyes.
“Good for you.” Olivia knew firsthand to what lengths a mother would go to protect her child. She nodded to her patient. “We’re here to help you.”
“I’m terrified. I can’t sleep at night. I keep holding Andy. I’ve been in counseling for several months.”
“Do you live alone?”
“No, I shared an apartment with another abused woman, but she moved out of state. I couldn’t stay on my own. Now, I’m back at the shelter for battered women where I hid two years ago. I never go out. I’m afraid to leave the house. The social worker brought me here. Soon, I’ll have to make a decision about my future.” The patient buried her head in her hands and sobbed. “But I can’t leave. I can’t be on my own. He’ll find us and kill me.”
After spending an hour questioning her patient, Olivia put a soothing hand on the young woman’s arm. “Patricia, I’m going to give you a medicine called Fluoxetine to calm your anxiety.”
Olivia explained the risks, benefits and side effects of the medicine, and then she handed Patricia a prescription and a consent form. “Take one in the morning only. I hope you’ll start feeling better in a couple of weeks and you’ll be able to discuss your future with the social worker with a cool head. Do you have any questions?”
Patricia shook her head and signed the printed sheet.
“I’ll see you next week,” Olivia said as she walked her out of the consultation room. When she resumed her place, Olivia turned toward Luc. “A case of post-traumatic stress disorder and agora-phobia.”
“I agree with you. The antidepressant drug is appropriate for her case. But—” His gaze intense, Luc narrowed his eyes as if he wanted to reach deep in her soul.
“Yes?”
“I share your empathy toward an abused patient, but you seemed to approve of her violent reaction to her husband.”
Had she been too transparent? She hoped not. No one knew her well. Not Luc or Doc, or even her daughter or her best friend, Tony. No one knew everything about her. And frankly, even she had almost forgotten the part of her life she’d buried deep down.
Luc had told her he detested secrets, but her life was a canvas of secrets woven to protect her child. She willed down her nervousness and shrugged. He wouldn’t have understood her fears.
How would he react when he discovered she had a daughter? When he learned she’d never trusted him enough to tell him about Melissa ten years ago?
Damn it, she couldn’t have trusted any man at the time.
With a psychiatrist of Luc’s caliber looking over her shoulder, she’d have to watch her reactions. “I just wanted Patricia to talk without fear.”
Olivia didn’t need a shrink to tell her she was a good doctor, dedicated to her career, aggressive and not easily flustered. But when it came to her secret and her daughter’s happiness, she was totally vulnerable, a mother afraid to see her daughter hurt, a woman feeling guilty about her past, unable to escape the web of secrets she’d created.
“For a moment I thought you’d lost your objectivity.” His stern expression relaxed. “I must have been mistaken.” His gaze rested on her face with a softness that worried her even more than his perceptiveness.
These next six months promised to be stressful. She glanced at her watch. “Doc must be done with his appointment. I wonder if he got his grant.”
“You call him Doc?”
“An old habit I can’t lose. He was my professor in med school.”
Luc took a step toward her, the bone-melting smile she remembered too well curving his lips. “I like old habits. Olivia, I am glad we have a few minutes of privacy to talk about the past.” He reached for her shoulders.
Her heart flip-flopped at his gentle but firm touch. Her skin burning under the silk blouse, she stared at him, unable to move.
“Ma chérie,” he murmured.
When you feel stressed, take a deep breath and count to ten, she’d often advised her patients. Hell, she wouldn’t have time to reach ten. Luc was going to kiss her. Here in the psychiatric consultation room. Total madness.
“Luc, please. Doc is waiting.” She ducked under his arms to escape his hold.
As if on cue, her cell phone rang. Doc. Bless his heart. For once, he’d called her at the right time. “Yes, Doc. I’m done here.”
“Good. I need you both in my office. I have an important case to discuss with you.”
“Can it wait till tomorrow, please?” She threw a look at Luc who was listening to every word. “I had other plans for this afternoon.”
“Sorry about that. It’s too important to wait.”
“I see. In that case, I’ll drop by for a moment.”
“Can you postpone your plans? My wife just called. We’d like you to have dinner with us.”
“I really can’t.” She hadn’t been to her mother’s house to see her daughter for three days.
“It’s Luc’s first night in Cincinnati. Your presence will help put him at ease.”
“But—” Olivia stifled a curse. Luc was already more at ease than she’d ever be in his presence. The man oozed self-confidence and authority, whereas she’d forgotten how to be assertive in the last few hours.
“Please, Olivia. There are things to discuss with Luc before I can start my sabbatical. You know perfectly well that there isn’t enough time during the day. Consider it a business meeting.”
A business meeting? She sighed. Doc was leaving soon. He was right. They needed to brief Luc, but their workdays overflowed with patient consultations and classes. “Okay, I’ll be there for dinner,” she conceded grudgingly.
“Any problems?” Luc asked with his most charming smile.
“Just discussing dinner arrangements. Doc’s expecting us. Let’s go.” She grabbed her purse and jacket, and exited the room while slipping an arm into the sleeve. Luc immediately held the jacket for her. Her heart squeezed. He hadn’t changed. He was still the perfect gentleman.
“I wonder what’s bothering Doc about this big case to call us stat?” As if she didn’t have enough trouble with her visiting doctor and the gigantic misunderstanding of his invitation.
“A
new, difficult case, maybe. He is leaving soon and has to transfer his responsibilities.”
She nodded and walked the small distance between the Crisis Center and the School of Medicine in silence, struggling to keep her rising nervousness in check. A whiff of antiseptic and alcohol assailed her as she entered the School of Medicine building. Olivia had lived with this smell a third of her life, but for the first time it made her nauseous.
How would she extricate herself from the problem Luc’s arrival had created?
Tonight, after dinner, once he’d settled in the McMillan’s mansion, she’d tell him that nothing had changed. Nothing except his name.
“Where did you get this Lucien de Toulon-Chatel?”
“Two years ago, I inherited the lands, château, and title from my uncle on my mother’s side. In his testament, he asked I use his name also.”
“Title? So what do they call you in France? Monsieur what?” For her, he’d always been Monsieur Handsome. Just like now, drop-dead gorgeous in a collared shirt that reflected the blue of his eyes and contrasted with his wavy, dark hair.
“Comte de Toulon-Chatel.”
“Oh dear, a count.” The title suited his physique. An athletic and muscular body plus a scientific mind. Oh, la, la. A perfect fit for French aristocracy. Excitement sizzled in her stomach. She accelerated her pace to escape his gaze, his scent, his presence.
Nothing had changed. She’d hurt him years ago, and she’d have to hurt him again.
****
“Come in, my friends. Make yourself comfortable.” With a sly smile indicating he had more to say, Doc waved to the big leather chairs by his desk. “I have great news to share. Soon we’ll be able to renovate the Crisis Center.”
“Really?” Olivia returned his smile while she settled in a chair, and Luc did the same. Modernizing the Crisis Center had been the ongoing dream of every psychiatrist at the Center. “Has the dean signed your petition for more funds?”
“Nope, but we received a generous donation. Our benefactor opened a new branch of his company here a few months ago. He’s just donated millions to the University of Cincinnati. And he specified the bulk of his money should go to our department.”