Miracle for the Neurosurgeon

by Lynne Marshall

  “True. But it’s also therapeutic. Good for your circulation.”

  “Could you stop, just for one minute?” He lifted his hand out of the water to warn her. “Everything we do doesn’t have to be about my rehabilitation. Can’t we just sit here like a couple of old friends enjoying a soak?”

  “I’m sorry, Wes, I wasn’t aware that was how I came off.”

  “I get that you showed up to help me, but honestly, Harris, I’ve got it covered. Now that your wonder bike has arrived, everything is all set up. I’ve got everything I need.”

  “Are you saying my services are done here?”

  “No.” He scooted closer on the underwater bench they shared and whispered in the vicinity of her ear. “Start thinking of yourself as my guest.”

  “Not your dominatrix?”

  He laughed, as she’d hoped he would. “If you want that job, it won’t be in the gym.” He winked, and she couldn’t very well blame the warm water for the chill that ran along her spine. “Here’s the deal. Things have been out of balance. Since you showed up, you’ve been running things. I get it that you want to help me, but I liked a lot about how I did things, too.”

  “You want more teamwork?”

  “That’s a start. I guess what I’m saying is we’ve got this time together, so why not enjoy ourselves?”

  “Wow, this hot tub really has mellowed you.”

  He smiled, looking more relaxed than he’d been since she’d arrived two weeks ago. “Maybe we should do this more often.”

  Rita appeared with a tray of sandwiches and lemonade. “Thought you might like some lunch,” was all she said, before putting everything on the nearby glass-topped table with an umbrella at the center, and heading back to the house.

  “Thank you!” he called out, helping Mary understand he didn’t take his ghost-like cook for granted. It meant more than he could realize.

  The sky was cornflower blue, the water the perfect temperature, the buff guy next to her looked hot as hell, and he’d just invited her to think of herself as his guest. Could her day get any better?

  She closed her eyes and sighed, and was quickly surprised by the arms that gathered her near, and the inviting mouth that landed on hers. Under other circumstances she would have tensed, but not here. Not now. Because everything felt too perfect. Especially the seductive kiss Wes had just planted on her.

  Was this a dream? Making out in a hot tub with an even hotter guy? She opened her eyes just as Wes’s fingers strayed from her shoulder and traced across her chest to the other side before he nuzzled her neck with more kisses. She hadn’t thought it was possible to get goose-bumps in a Jacuzzi, but his touch had set off every last one of them.

  “This was what was on my mind all morning.”

  “Kissing me in a spa pool?”

  “Can you blame a guy for being grumpy?”

  She stopped from asking if it had been a long time, since she knew chances were he hadn’t ventured back into an intimate relationship with a woman since his accident. “Are you sure that’s all that mood was about?”

  His arms dropped from around her. She’d broken their “moment” and immediately regretted it.

  “I focus too much on my condition, but I can handle it. Then here you are, doing the same thing. I’ve just felt under a microscope in the gym lately, and all I wanted to do was feel like a regular guy for a while.”

  “And here in the hot tub we can do that?”

  “I’m just a guy sitting in a spa with a good-looking lady, enjoying myself.” He splashed her full on in the face.

  She squealed but retaliated, pushing water his way with both hands.

  He laughed and doubled down, covering her with water, and she fought back. Soon they tired of acting like unsupervised kids and settled down, though still laughing. And damn if it didn’t feel great.

  “I’m hungry,” he said.

  “Me too.” She climbed out and found two large towels draped across a lounge chair. She tied one around herself and before she could bring one to Wes, he’d already gotten himself out of the tub and was sitting along the edge of the small pool.

  “Can you bring my wheelchair?”

  She looked around and saw it subtly tucked away under the cabana and brought it to him, first spreading the towel on the seat cushion, with the sides open and waiting to cover him. With ease and muscle he hoisted himself into the chair. Soon they were sitting at the table under the umbrella, enjoying sandwiches and fresh lemonade.

  She wasn’t sure what had just happened back in that spa, but was really glad they’d taken the afternoon off. He’d gently reprimanded her for being too focused on his condition instead of seeing him as a whole person exactly as he was. She’d just had a good glimpse of that guy, too, and really liked what she’d seen. The trick would be keeping the balance from here on out.

  Why did she suddenly feel like she walked a tightrope over her profession and her true feelings?

  After lunch they went their separate ways, saying nothing about their shared world-class kiss in the hot tub earlier.

  *

  The next morning Mary showed up in the gym to find an even grumpier Wesley.

  “I thought we’d just work out alongside each other today,” she said in response to his unspoken gloom. “Is that okay with you?”

  He harrumphed.

  She’d thought long and hard about what he’d told her yesterday about not wanting everything to focus on him. She’d realized how he must have seen things, her showing up out of nowhere, sweeping into his life to, what, save him?

  The idea made her cringe. “Hey,” she said.

  He pressed a huge amount of weights in response.

  “Everything okay?”

  He grunted.

  Then it hit her. She’d spent a fair amount of time thinking about the issue between them last night—the unspoken attraction that was definitely still there—especially after their wonderful kisses shared in that Jacuzzi. “You know what this is about, right?”

  “What what’s about?” he said, after dropping the pulley weights and making a loud clank when metal hit metal.

  He looked at her as if she’d become a talking mutant. Like she’d dared to read his mind and she’d better not get it wrong. Not a sound passed between them for several seconds as she got up the guts to hit him with the elephant in the room.

  “Sex. This is about sex.”

  He continued to glower, squinting for emphasis.

  “You miss it. You need it.”

  “For flipping hell’s sake, get off my back.”

  Whammo!

  His brush-off only made her dig in her heels. “I’m not the one pushing myself within an inch of my life. You’re obviously trying to work off your pent-up sexual energy, and you’ve failed…”

  If he could have exterminated her with the white-hot anger flashing in his eyes, she’d be toast.

  “Miserably.” She wouldn’t back down. He needed to hear the truth and get some facts. Now was as good a time as any, plus it might break him of needing to overwork himself.

  “Thanks for reminding me, Harris,” he said, putting a dreadful emphasis on Harris.

  It hurt to see him focus his anger on her, yet she refused to break eye contact. “You can have normal sex.”

  He went still, seething, nearly fitful, clearly using every ounce of restraint to keep from verbally attacking her. “In case you haven’t noticed, there isn’t anything that’s normal about me anymore.” He’d lowered his voice, yet every word shouted, This is a warning. Back off!

  She opted not to listen to the unspoken message. “You’re a neurosurgeon. You know it’s possible. Just not the way it was before.”

  The fire in his glare showered her with restrained anger, making her face go hot.

  “Then what’s the point?”

  The rush of exasperation hit her by surprise. She was a professional, had had this conversation with several male patients over the years, yet Wes had gotten to her. He�
��d won. Shut her down. For now she’d give up on the topic. She picked some free weights and went to town with curls. “You’d be surprised.”

  He rolled the chair toward her, challenging. This conversation was far from over. “What do you mean?”

  Oh, hell, was he thinking she’d just made him an offer? That wasn’t her intention at all, it was the subject that needed defending, not her talking specifics. What should she say?

  Act professionally. “There are many wonderful women around the world who are devoted partners of paraplegics.”

  Though buffer and stronger than he’d ever been in his life, he was still fragile. “You know I’ve always had a crush on you, Wes, and no matter how you are now, that hasn’t changed. Your wheelchair doesn’t factor into the equation. At all. You’re an impressive and appealing man.”

  Emotions ruled his thinking. Now he’d gone from red-hot anger to sizzling need in record time. Very moved by what Mary had just said, Wesley took her hand, pulled her down to his eye level and, letting the barrage of desire take over, he kissed her. He forgot about where he sat or why they’d been spending so much time together over the last few days. All he saw was a woman he’d never gotten out of his mind, who’d just admitted she still had feelings for him. And he went for it.

  As they kissed, every obstacle in his head stepped aside. He freely explored the lips he’d reacquainted himself with yesterday in the hot tub. He did what he wanted, took what he wanted, and she met his rough kisses with sweet music in her throat. Her reaction turned him on even more. As his tongue slid over the velvet of her lips and inside her mouth, he remembered what it was like to be a man.

  She’d ignited fire inside him, and the heat of it, after all this dormant time, shocked him. “Prove it,” he said over her mouth, midkiss. A moment later he stared into her fully dilated pupils, cluing him in she’d been as much into that kiss as he’d been. “Prove that I can still have sex.”

  *

  Wes’s dare sent a disturbing chill down Mary’s spine. Shaken back to consciousness, she pulled away, fully aware of his clutch on her arms. He’d laid down the gauntlet, challenged her, and she was nowhere ready to prove anything!

  She stood, but his hands went to her waist, keeping her near, staring at her like the commanding man he’d always been.

  It took everything she had to stare deeply into his hungry eyes. She saw raw need there—Help me be whole again. He needed her help and, to be honest, with her recent craving to have a baby, she needed his. The next thought sent a lightning-bolt reaction through the center of her chest. Could they strike a bargain?

  Her stomach twisted at the possibility. That would be all wrong.

  And completely unprofessional.

  She gingerly pushed back from his grasp, which had slipped to her hips, frantically thinking of a way to smooth over this huge shift in power. In the course of a minute of hot and heavenly kisses, she’d managed to annihilate all the trust she’d worked so hard to build in Wes. He’d found out her weakness, and now she had to take back her role as physical therapist. “I think we both know that would be a huge mistake.”

  “Was yesterday and the day before a mistake, too?”

  “I’m sorry if I gave you mixed messages. I have such fond memories for you, and it was so nice to have you in my house, and yesterday in the hot tub… I overstepped my bounds. I’m sorry.” Oh, God, would he buy it? It was partially true.

  “Fond. Nice. Such tepid words. That’s not what I felt yesterday or just now.”

  She swallowed the dry lump that had lodged in her throat. “Look, I felt what you felt, but that doesn’t matter.” She forced herself to stop wringing her hands. “I came here as a friend, to help you get back…” Oh, damn, her fingers kept interlocking and unlacing, and here she was about to stumble over her words.

  “On my feet?”

  His transparent fury cut deep, and hurt to the point of knocking the air from her. In a few short seconds everything had fallen apart. She had to fix this, and it was time for her to plead. “You know that’s not what I meant.” Regret washed over her in bucketfuls, throwing his own sentence back at him, but she couldn’t figure out how to make things right. How to keep things in balance. Because her mind had been jumbled by that kiss.

  With muscles twitching on both sides of his jaw, he made a jerky movement and rolled his wheelchair away. “I’m taking the morning off. Doctor’s orders.”

  *

  Mary decided she had blown it big time. She jogged along the beach, her toes digging little holes into the wet sand, thinking she should probably pack up and leave. An overcast day, it seemed to accentuate the scent of seaweed, and the downcast mood that had overtaken her. Unintentionally, she’d humiliated Wesley, a man whose pride had always ruled the day. A man who now sat in a wheelchair, and who’d somehow gotten up the nerve to ask her to have sex with him.

  As she ran, the rhythmic sound of waves crashing tons of water onto the shore helped her calm down. Everything seemed mixed up. She’d never encountered this kind of problem with a patient before. Because they had a history, being around him had forced her to realize she still harbored feelings for him. The moist air soothed the tension that had built up in her throat.

  The crazy thing was, her wish to have a baby and have Wesley donate the sperm had planted itself in her head and wouldn’t go away. She needed to shake it out, because he wouldn’t even talk to her now, let alone offer to donate sperm.

  Every time she looked at him from now on, she’d know his thoughts, because he’d asked her to prove he could have sex again! It had to take a lot of nerve to ask it, and she’d brushed his wish aside, humiliating him further.

  The scariest part of all was how much she wanted to go for it, as in, with all of her heart! There was no way she could discuss her proposition with him. If she didn’t word things perfectly, he could feel used. So would she. That could make a wonderful thing seem icky. No, she needed more time to work things out.

  Who knew how long he’d go back to being a hermit after their blow-up?

  Should she leave? Had she blown it that much?

  Her cellphone rang and she saw it was Alexandra. “Just checking in to see how things are going.”

  “They’ve been going pretty well, but today was bad.”

  “Don’t let him bully you, Mary. He’s done it with every person we’ve had work with him.”

  She wanted to say it was more than that, that she’d had a lot to do with the problem. And she wasn’t sure she could fix things. “It’s not that easy, Alex.”

  “Please? Oh, I’m begging you. Don’t give up on him. He may not act like it, but he needs you, Mary. Please.”

  How could she let down the person—her first best friend—who’d always accepted her as she was and had changed the course of her life by bringing her into her home? “No need to beg, Alex. I said I’d come for two months, and I promise to stick it out.”

  She hadn’t come here as a physical therapist—she’d come as a friend first. He never would have tolerated her staying around if they hadn’t had that connection. She’d played with fire by kissing him, now she had to deal with the consequences. He wanted her to prove that he could have sex and enjoy it with a woman. A really big deal to every man. No, it wouldn’t be exactly the way he’d experienced sex before, but from all the reports and studies she’d read, it would definitely be satisfying. Just different.

  Her strides got longer, her breathing harder. She pushed aside her desire to ask him to consider being her sperm donor to not confuse things between them any further. Yes, she was here as a friend, but she needed to step up on the PT side and help Wes return to a full and fulfilling life. Getting him strong enough to go back to work. Enhancing his dexterity so he could perform surgery again. His rehabilitation was reason enough to sacrifice her secret wish.

  As for sex, well, she had another idea, but first she needed to get in touch with one of her prior patients. Soon. She’d been here just shy of three weeks,
she knew her menstrual cycle, and time was running out. Great, just what she needed, to put more pressure on herself.

  She’d run herself ragged on the beach, which had been her plan. Now she’d shower and crash in her house for the rest of the afternoon. If she were lucky, she might actually have some clear thoughts. But when she reached her door she saw a note tucked in the seam.

  It was from Wes.

  Have dinner with me. Since you won’t accept a salary from me, the least I can do is feed you.

  W.

  This had to be his way of apologizing, yet she wasn’t ready to face him again. Not before she’d done more research. She opted to skip the shower. She’d also call Rita, not Wes, since she presumed she’d be the one to cook dinner. She’d tell her she couldn’t make it tonight.

  Coward’s way out, yes, but it would serve her purpose. She had to get things back on track between them.

  Two hours later, after a thirty-minute conversation with her former patient, Sean, the busiest bachelor in a wheelchair she knew, her laptop was open to the ultimate guide to dating paraplegics. While deep into research on products, there was a tap at her door.

  Still in jogging shorts and tank top, her hair a mess, through the window in the door she saw the outline of a man in a wheelchair. Wes.

  She jumped up and opened it, recognizing that look of chagrin, and because of his humble attempt to make things right by inviting her to dinner earlier, she was more than ready to forgive him for pressing things earlier.

  “Are you not having dinner with me because you’re still mad at me?”

  “Hi. No, actually I’m working.”

  “But you’re still upset.”

  “I took a long run and fixed that.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “I haven’t been down to the beach in a long time. Had Heath build an access for me ages ago, but have rarely used it.”

  “That’s a shame.”

  “Take a walk with me?”

  He’d come in his sports chair, light and maneuverable, clearly ready for the packed-down sand on the beach at low tide. Considering how messed up things had been earlier between them, and the fact the man came all this way to ask her for a walk, how could she refuse?