by Susan Stoker
“I don’t know what bug you have up your ass about our prosecuting attorney, but the hospital board thinks he’s wonderful. Between a lawyer with influence like Lloyd and a surgeon with an alcoholic history, I’ll take the lawyer.”
Kyle felt like he’d been gut shot. Tess had never mentioned being an alcoholic. Of course, that would make sense given her total abstinence. Still, she should have trusted him with this information.
“What do you mean a surgeon with an alcoholic history? Are you talking about Dr. Sweeney?”
“Damn straight. Lloyd clued me in on that little fact today. If I’d had known that back when you were shot, there’s no way I’d have let her touch you.”
Without being shot, Kyle doubted he’d have ever gotten to know Tess. Without getting to know her, he’d never have fallen so deeply in love with her. If his brother had known Tess’s history, Kyle’s life would be empty now, no Tess and her sparkling eyes. He thanked God Troy hadn’t known.
The roar of an approaching boat drew Kyle’s eye up the bay. The blue lights on the boat were whirling.
“I’ve got to run, Troy. Remember what I said.”
Chapter Six
‡
Lloyd lifted the fifty-year-old scotch to his mouth, enjoying both the aroma of Scottish smoky peat and the smooth taste as the amber liquid filled his mouth. He’d inherited the scotch from his father. The bastard hadn’t ever even opened the bottle. Only a fool would let liquor as fine as an Ardbeg Islay 1960 remain unopened. A scotch of this quality deserved to be drunk. Of course, his father hadn’t had the refined taste buds that Preston had. Unlike his father, Preston could appreciate the subtleties of this excellent scotch.
He took his seat behind a massive stone desk in his private home office. As promised, he’d faxed a letter to the president of the Texas Medical Board requesting an inquiry into Dr. Tess Sweeney’s actions the night Hunter died. He really should have found a way to stop the hospital from hiring her in the first place.
Damn board chairman McCall, his wife, and her equal-opportunity crap.
Tess’s hiring had been a done deal before Preston had known about it, which was too bad. He probably could have put a stop to it, and then his son would still be alive.
He couldn’t decide if McCall was smarter than he gave him credit for or stupid beyond words. Had McCall known that Tess and him had a past? When McCall had directed the board to hire Tess, had he done that to put a wedge between Preston and McCall’s wife, with whom Preston had been having an affair?, Or was McCall so ignorant as to hire a totally incompetent surgeon.
At this point, it didn’t really matter, did it?
His jaw flexed as he ground his teeth. He’d had such high expectations for his son. Governor, or maybe senator. The boy had been sharp, just like his dad. God knew he hadn’t taken after his mother, and for that, Preston had been thankful.
The thought of his spineless wife made his mouth curl into a snarl. He’d believed he was getting a skilled helpmate, someone with the right political and social connections he needed. Instead, he’d gotten a spoiled, weak whiner. She couldn’t do anything right, from planning an appropriate reception to something as simple as picking out the right Christmas gifts for colleagues.
He tossed back the drink and refilled his glass.
Nothing but a bunch of worthless losers around him.
As soon as he’d dealt with Dr. Tess Sweeney, he’d deal with Constance Lloyd. She was of no use to him now. Barren and socially inept, she’d become a hindrance for the future that awaited him.
He poured another splash of the expensive bottle of scotch before he stashed it behind a row of books. Constance would never appreciate it. No reason to let her find it.
Getting rid of Tess didn’t mean she had to die. In fact, he’d rather she spent the rest of her pitiful behind bars.
And then there was Candy McCall, the hospital board chairman’s wife. She’d become a problem of late. Candy had been good for a fast fuck, but as his next wife? Not hardly. She had to be almost thirty-nine.
No, he’d already looked through the possible replacements and found the perfect woman. Smart. Politically savvy. Socially connected. Belonged to the right political party. The daughter of a well-known state senator. Maybe a little young, but he believed in getting them young and training them right.
He knew what this state needed, and he knew he was the right man for the job. With his intelligence, good looks, and the right woman behind him, nothing could stop him from sweeping easily into the governorship of Texas. He just needed to clean up a little around him.
After tossing the liquid down his throat, he stood to head for bed. Tomorrow would require him to be with his wife all day, picking out a casket, and whatever else people had to do to bury someone. Constance had done all the planning when his father had died, so she’d know what to do…if he could keep her focused. Really, he should carry a small flask in his pocket tomorrow. Just enough to make the day tolerable.
Chapter Seven
‡
Tess sucked on an ice cube, the melted, cold liquid trickling down her throat. When the conversation with Troy Monroe cycled through her memory, she chomped down hard, shattering the cube into tiny slivers that melted rapidly on her tongue. Her right arm flopped over far enough to snag another chunk of ice. Instead, her fingers wrapped around the cold neck of the vodka bottle. Momentarily, she held on to the glass bottle as though her skin was surgically attached, then she opened her fingers one-by-one and pulled her arm back to the boat’s lounger.
Damn. Just one drink. It’d been five long years since she’d felt the smooth comfort of cold vodka filling her empty stomach, numbing the pain of everyday life. Five years. She could handle one little swallow.
Her hand reached for the bottle but instead delivered a hunk of three ice cubes frozen together. She pushed them into her mouth.
A tear rolled from the corner of her eye, down her cheek, and into her ear. She needed a drink. Really needed it. Wanted it more than she wanted to take her next breath. And that’s why the seal on the bottle remained intact. Intellectually, she knew the human body didn’t require alcohol to survive. Emotionally, she was sure that without a drink within the next five minutes, she would die.
She pulled the bottle from the icy water and sat it on her stomach, watching the clear liquid move sensually around in its container. In the late evening heat, sweat quickly formed on the bottle and soaked through her shirt leaving cold rings on her belly.
One drink would extinguish the burning ache in her gut. One drink would get her through tonight and to tomorrow morning. One drink.
Damn Lloyd. She didn’t deserve the accusation that she hadn’t done her best in the OR. She always did her best.
And damn Monroe too for believing her lying, cheating ex.
She drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
Relax. Deep breaths. Concentrate. Feel the gentle rock of the boat.
Well, that new-age crap wasn’t helping at all. If having one drink wasn’t the answer, then what she really needed was a punching bag with Lloyd’s face on one side and Troy Monroe’s on the other. On the other hand, Troy looked just like Kyle, and she could never sock him. Another great plan down the drain.
A couple of jet-skis zoomed past, sending her boat rocking like a baby’s cradle. Closing her eyes, she thought about her day. It’d started early and run late. Her food intake had been minimal, if you count a candy bar for lunch as food. Face it, she was running on fumes, ready to sputter to a stop any moment.
And she was sad, seriously sad. Losing any patient was bad enough, but a child? Losing a child doubled the melancholy. She no longer had a way to get rid of this much misery. She could cry again, but what good would that do? Tears didn’t make her feel any better.
And the vodka? It wouldn’t help. She knew that. She shoved the bottle back into the ice chest.
Resting her head on the seatback, she stared at the twinkling lights she’d hun
g from the boat’s metal roof. When lit, the tiny LCD lights put out bright sparkles of light. She loved those lights. They always reminded her of the sparkle in Kyle’s eyes when he laughed. His long, lean body when he was naked. The way he strutted instead of walked. Those old jeans that had been washed so many times they were threadbare across his crotch. For the first time today, she felt the corners of her mouth pull upward.
He made her happy. When he was gone, when their affair was over, she would miss him terribly. But in her heart, she knew there would be no husband, no children, no happily-ever-after for her. The best she hoped for in her life was professional success, and now that was being threatened.
In the main channel, a large boat roared past, pulling her from her warm thoughts of Kyle. The racing boat was close enough that his wake sent her boat on another rocking spree. Thank goodness, it hadn’t turned into her hiding place. She didn’t want strangers intruding on her space.
When the memories of this morning shoved their way to the forefront and she could no longer hold them at bay, she shut her eyes and thought about Hunter Lloyd…his tiny body with its soft skin, his little chest moving up and down from the respirator in the OR, the seemingly gallons of blood she mopped from inside his abdomen. The tears leaked out, running down her cheeks, and onto her neck.
It wasn’t fair. That poor child. That bastard of a father. More concerned about his damn career than his family.
Tess dipped the corner of a towel into the icy water and held it against her swollen eyes.
Maybe she wasn’t being fair to Preston. He loved his son. She knew that. This morning’s car accident would haunt him the rest of his life. If she were a vindictive woman, she’d take comfort in his pain, but how could anyone take comfort in the loss of a child? She couldn’t. She’d been there. Still bore the emotional scars as proof.
Tess rolled to her side on the recliner and refocused her thoughts on Kyle. What was she going to do about him? The longer she continued the affair, the harder and more painful it’d be when he left her.
Did she love him? Without question. She wasn’t supposed to fall for the man. Heck, she hadn’t even liked him after their first meeting. But when he’d rolled into the emergency department, she’d felt a gut-load of sympathy for him after he’d been shot during a routine traffic stop he’d made on his way home. A car with no tail lights. A simple traffic stop. The worst thing that might have happened to the driver would have been a warning. Instead he’d walked up to a domestic abuse situation that had gone sideways fast.
She rolled onto her back. A cool breeze ruffled her hair, tossing strands across her face. She wanted to brush them back into place, but she was too relaxed to move either of her hands crossed over her waist. Her eyes drifted shut and she smiled as she remembered their first meeting.
It’d been another long day of fighting with hospital administration to get the funding and equipment necessary to adequately equip the operating suites. Then she’d come home to three broken windows and had reported the vandalism to the county sheriff’s office.
On the way home after work, Kyle had responded to her nine-one-one call. She’d only found out later that he was the sheriff and not a deputy as she had assumed that night.
She’d been tired and angry and a total bitch. She’d called him a straw-chewing, red-necked, backwoods Barney Fife. He’d seemed more amused than angry with her totally off-the-mark description. He’d simply shifted the toothpick in his mouth from the right side to the left and grinned. That had made her even madder.
But her bad mood and insults hadn’t deterred his investigation. Within a couple of days, three sets of parents hauling three boys—ages six and seven—had stood at her door. The boys had been throwing rocks at her house as target practice before the start of baseball. She’d received profound apologies, checks from the parents, and a month of weed-pulling from the three boys. Now ages eight and nine, the boys could be found at her house as often as their own.
Not the best of beginnings to be sure, but that straw-chewing, red-necked, Barney Fife sure had worked his way into her life and into her heart.
She heard a boat approaching but didn’t bother opening her eyes. Whoever it was could find another cove on the lake. She was here first and had claimed this one.
The motor slowed and her boat rocked from the new arrival’s wake. Bastards. Couldn’t they see this spot was taken?
She forced open her eyes, ready to run off the intruders, but the blue light bar on the boat took the words from her mouth. Kyle stood on the front of the marine patrol boat. The boat idled close and Kyle, as comfortable on water as on land, easily jumped onto the front deck of her pontoon boat, sending it rocking again. His cowboy-booted feet landed with a solid thud.
“Thanks, Barr. I’ll take it from here.”
Kyle opened the swing gate and clomped his way through the boat. Tess rolled to her side, propping her head in the palm of her hand.
“Dr. Sweeney,” Kyle said with a grin and touch of his fingers to the brim of his hat.
“Sheriff Monroe. How goes the lake wars?”
“Wet.” He laughed at his own joke for a moment before his face fell into a serious expression. “I’ve been worried about you. Why haven’t you returned my calls?”
She rolled onto her back and closed her eyelids, breaking eye contact. Shrugging, she replied, “Busy day.”
The boat rocked as Kyle joined her. Those cowboy boots were as out of place on her boat as her flip-flops would be on Kyle’s ranch.
His heat and scent wafted around her. Even with her eyes shut, she’d swear she could feel his gaze on her. She glanced up and into his haunting face. “Why are you here, Kyle?”
His stare left her face to pan over the ice chest holding the bottle of vodka before returning to her. “Like I said, I was concerned.”
She drew in a deep breath. “It’s not been opened. You can check if you want.”
“Tess.”
He said her name with such emotion, such caring, she almost broke into tears. “You know, don’t you?”
“It doesn’t matter,” he said. “Just shows me once again what a strong woman you are. Lean up.”
When she did, he threw one leg over the recliner and dropped into the seat behind her. Then he wrapped her in his arms and pulled her tight against his chest. She settled between his thighs and leaned heavily against his broad, firm body. Her head rose and fell with his quiet breathing. His heart thumped in her ear. The aroma of morning cologne was faint, but she could still smell its spicy allure. She sighed, relaxed and enjoyed being held by this strong man.
They sat in silence for a long time. The horizon turned pinkish-orange, then orange, and then the sun dropped behind the mountains. Evening stars popped bright in the inky sky like tiny flashlights in the dark.
Kyle’s lips pressed into the spot behind her right ear. “Ready to talk?”
She rolled her head from side to side on his chest. “Not really.” Then she sighed again. “You know about the booze, don’t you?”
“Know and gossip are two different things. I only know what you’ve told me. Look at me.”
Craning her head to look over her shoulder, she said, “You should get far, far away from me, Kyle. I’m toxic.” She turned back to face the water. “You’re a good—no, a wonderful man. You deserve more than I can give.”
He pulled her tight. “What a pile of dog crap.”
“I’m serious.”
“Me too, babe. I’m not going anywhere.”
She snorted. “You are the most bull-headed man.”
“Yup. So start talking. I know you’re bummed about the Lloyd kid from this morning, but you’ve lost patients before. He isn’t the first, and I doubt he’ll be the last. Why is this one hitting you so hard?”
What could she say? My ex-lover thinks I killed his son out of spite?
“And, yes, I know about my jackass of a brother. But he’ll come around and see how wrong he is.” He kissed her neck. �
�There’ll be days like this. I want to be there for you when they are.”
Tess fought the tears welling up in her eyes and swallowed hard. Would he feel the same if he knew everything about her past? The decisions she’d made? The effect they’d had on her?
“Tess. Look at me.”
She rolled over until she was lying in his lap looking into his face.
“This just isn’t the loss of a patient or my brother, is it?”
She shook her head, swallowing the heavy tang from nausea coating the back of her throat, the instant flow of saliva on either side of her tongue.
“Trust me.”
But deep down, there was no doubt what was causing the nausea. It was time, time to tell Kyle everything. She didn’t want to. As soon as she did, she knew their lives would change. A man like him deserved better than her, someone who could give him the family and children he wanted so badly. A woman without her past. She pressed her face into his chest.
“Look at me,” he said. His voice was commanding, and she obeyed, pulling her face away from the comfort of his warmth.
“Tell me about you and Lloyd.” She must have paled or flinched, because he said, “I’ve heard the rumors. I know you two have a past, but I want to know the truth, not the idle chatter of bored clerks.”
Tess’s heart rolled at his words. The nauseating tang in her mouth worsened. She pushed away and stood. Kyle caught her hand and squeezed. In support, she suspected, but there was nothing he could do that would make this any easier. She glanced down at their connected hands, sighed, kissed their interlaced fingers, and then pulled her hand away. She walked across the boat, keeping her back to him. This’d be easier if she didn’t have to look at him—as if anything could make it easier.
She took a deep breath and began. “Six years ago, Preston was separated from his wife. They were well on their way to divorce, or at least that’s what he told me. We met and were a lit match to a pile of dry leaves. Instant combustion. I was so young. Alone in the big city with no family and only a few friends. I was flattered when he choice me.”