by Laura Iding
Maybe she’d look for that restaurant Blake had mentioned, the one with internet access, and send a few messages home. Filled with purpose, she stood, hobbled with the crutches to her dresser and grabbed a sweater, then headed toward the door.
When she opened it, though, her eyes widened as she found Blake standing on the other side.
“Hi.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his casual cotton pants, his light hair damp from a recent shower. “I, er, wanted to check on you. To make sure you were all right.”
“I’m fine.” She leaned the bulk of her weight on her crutches and they stood there for an awkward moment.
“I see you’re headed out,” Blake murmured. “Would you mind some company?”
Her first instinct was to refuse, to protect herself from making the same mistakes all over again.
“Please?”
His quiet plea dissolved her resistance, and she drew a shaky breath and nodded. Maybe this was a mistake, but she couldn’t shake the thought of giving this thing between them a chance, to see where it might lead.
She swung through the doorway on her crutches, knowing as she did that she was crossing the threshold into uncharted territory.
CHAPTER SEVEN
BLAKE momentarily lost his breath when Moriah stepped forward, then leaned on her crutches to close the door firmly behind her. Her citrus scent clouded his brain. She wore a loose-fitting dress and while he figured she’d chosen it for comfort, the garment only enhanced her incredibly sexy aura. He knew full well the luscious curves and sleek skin hidden by the fabric, and he longed to unwrap her like a birthday present. Except the date wasn’t even close to his birthday. It took all his willpower not to pounce on her like a lunatic.
Seeking control, he cleared his throat, yet was unable to tear his gaze from the enticing picture she made. “So. Where are you headed?”
“I need to find internet access. You mentioned there was a place offering the service right down the street.” She gracefully swung her crutches down the hall toward the hotel lobby. “I want to send a message home.”
Of course she did. A woman like Moriah would always need her family ties. He understood, even if he couldn’t really relate. With an effort he pulled himself together, trying to ignore the clamoring need burning his gut, and nodded. “I’ll show you where it is.”
“Sure, if you like,” was her offhand response.
Moriah was more than self-sufficient enough to find the way by herself, but he felt compelled to tag along anyway.
He fell into step beside her and they walked outside and turned left down the unique circular street. The air was a tad cool, and she shivered a little when the breeze brushed her bare arms. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed not to haul her into his embrace, to warm her body with his.
“Oh, look at the pretty lanterns hanging above the statue.” Moriah paused, glancing around in surprise. “Hey, someone’s hung ribbons from all the wrought-iron fences, too. Red, blue and pink. It looks as if they’re planning a party.”
“There’s a Trujillo Festival being held at the end of the week,” Blake told her. “It’s not nearly as big as the Fall Festival known worldwide, but it should be fun.”
“How did you hear about the festival?”
“The locals filled me in while I helped them hang lanterns.”
“You hung lanterns?” Moriah’s eyes widened. “Working on your day off?”
He shrugged. “Why not?”
“Then you wasted another hour looking for me.” Moriah’s lips curved in a wry smile. “I bet this was the worst day off you’ve ever had.”
“Not even close.” Kissing Moriah had more than made the day worthwhile. “My only regret is not spending the entire day with you.” The confession slipped out before he could guard his tongue.
“Oh, Blake. I spent the day people watching and listening to the ocean, but the whole time I wished you were with me, too.” Her dazzling smile warmed his heart.
Considering he was a man who didn’t want the ties of a family, he couldn’t understand why he persisted in spending time with her. Yet he couldn’t bring himself to leave her either.
They found the internet café-restaurant and Moriah eagerly sat at a terminal, entered her credit-card number then went online. Blake pulled up a chair next to her and watched.
“Don’t you want to send a message?” she asked, typing furiously. “I’m sure your parents would appreciate hearing from you.”
“My parents are dead.” He instantly wanted to kick himself for telling her so bluntly. But, then again, maybe if she understood where he was coming from, he could explain himself, and somehow make amends for the way he’d treated her last year.
The clicking noises stopped and she turned toward him, her dark gaze full of concerned compassion. “Blake, I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
He shrugged, uncomfortable with her sympathy. “It’s not a big deal. I hadn’t seen either of them in years.”
Her eyes widened. “But why?”
Damn, he never should have started this whole conversation. He shifted in his seat, wishing he’d followed his original instinct to leave her alone. But he hadn’t been able to stay away.
Not even knowing it was for her own good. And for his own sanity.
“They aren’t like your parents, Moriah,” he finally told her. “They dedicated their lives to their missionary work. I was actually born in Africa. They kept me with them until it was time for me to go to school, then they shipped me off to live with my aunt and uncle. They didn’t want kids.”
“How awful for you.” She reached out and grasped his arm. “I’m sorry, Blake. No parent should ever treat their child like that.”
The flesh of his arm burned beneath her touch and he couldn’t stop himself from covering her slight hand with his. “Not all families are like yours, Moriah. That’s what I was trying to explain to you the other day. Some people aren’t made for family life.”
“But you could be, if you wanted to.”
He slowly shook his head. “But that’s the point. I don’t want to. Is it a crime to dedicate my life to my career? I tried to make a commitment once, during medical school, but luckily I came to my senses before doing anything disastrous. I don’t have a lot of experience with kids, but I do know they take a ton of time and energy that I don’t want to give. I’m simply not wired the same way you are.”
“I refuse to believe that.”
Before he could try to convince her, the door to the café opened and two laughing American women walked in. His heart sank as he recognized Claire and Greta.
“Hi, Moriah, Blake.” Greta greeted them enthusiastically. “Isn’t this the greatest place?”
“Yes, I’m glad we found a way to get a message home,” Moriah agreed, sliding her hand from his. “Much better than a silly postcard.”
“Hello, Blake.” Claire stepped forward, her sunny smile fading when she noticed Moriah pull her hand from his. With a wounded grimace, she turned away.
He clenched his jaw, but didn’t know what to say. He’d barely spoken two words to Claire since the dinner they’d shared that first night. Having a simple meal together shouldn’t have meant so much to her. It wasn’t his fault they didn’t mesh.
Or maybe it was. How many times had he tried to find someone else? Anyone who might make him forget the woman seated beside him?
Damn. He didn’t want his head messed up with Moriah.
He stared blindly at the computer screen in front of him. The two nurses moved away, choosing vacant chairs on the opposite side of the room to go online and e-mail messages to their family and friends.
It was a sad commentary on his life that he didn’t have a single person he needed to communicate with.
“I’ll check my work e-mail while you finish up,” he said to Moriah. Work was his life, he needed to remember that. He refused to make the same mistakes his parents had made. He preferred to dedicate his life to his career, a choice he di
dn’t regret. He wasn’t so sure he even liked children. The ones he’d met while visiting Moriah’s family had been loud and annoying—one had even thrown spit-balls at him.
His heart shouldn’t be heavy just because he’d been honest with her. Some people didn’t belong in that life.
He was one of them.
She silently stared at him for a long moment, then turned her attention to her computer. She busied herself with sending her messages, then finally turned back to him.
“I’m finished.”
“Good.” He quickly disconnected his work e-mail, unable to dredge up much interest in the latest health-care news and hospital politics. “I’ll walk you back to the hotel.”
Outside, Moriah paused. “I noticed Claire seemed upset with you.”
“She doesn’t have a reason to be upset. We talked a little and shared dinner once. End of story.” He couldn’t help his harsh tone.
“You don’t say goodbye very well, do you?” Moriah observed, before walking down the street, back in the direction from which they’d come.
Touché. She’d scored a direct hit. He hastened to catch up with her. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” She barely spared him a glance, keeping up a brisk pace with her crutches as if she couldn’t get back to the hotel fast enough.
“For leaving you like I did last year.” Guilt almost made the words stick in his throat.
“Oh. That.” They had arrived at the hotel, and she turned back to face him. “You know, Blake, I’m sorry, too. Because that night was very special.”
The layer of guilt coating his throat thickened. “Moriah—”
“Don’t,” she interrupted him. “I understand a little better now why you hold people at arm’s length. Let’s just focus on remaining friends. Good night, Blake.”
He didn’t want to leave, not like this. There was so much more he should say, so many transgressions to make up for. But he couldn’t do it. It was bad enough he’d wanted her for what seemed like a lifetime.
If she ever came to him again, he wasn’t sure he would have the strength and the willpower to let her go.
Moriah watched as Blake turned and walked away, an action he’d perfected over the years. She should have been content to let him walk out of her life.
But she had to bite her lip to stop herself from calling him back.
She kept seeing him as a little boy, being shipped off to live with strangers, even if those strangers had been related by blood. Being abandoned at such a young age must have been very hard and explained the aura of isolation she’d noticed about him. Really, though, his background only reinforced what she already knew.
Like Ryan, he was a man who avoided commitment. Or, rather, relationships that might lead to a commitment.
And having a family was the greatest commitment of all.
In the bathroom she splashed liberal amounts of cold water on her face in an effort to quell her over-heated hormones. Still, after she’d crawled into bed, sleep eluded her. The enigma of Blake wouldn’t leave her alone.
She squeezed her eyes shut, but the images still came. Blake’s mouth, hot and needy on hers. His strong surgeon’s hands, stroking her breasts, her stomach, the cleft between her thighs. Like a spontaneous combustion, passion had exploded between them.
She’d fallen in love with him that night. And he’d walked from her arms to another woman. In all honesty, he’d treated her with the same casual indifference he’d shown Claire earlier.
When would she learn? The number-one rule in dating men was you couldn’t go into a relationship thinking you could change them.
Yet that was exactly what she’d started to believe. She certainly hadn’t been at her smartest today. Falling on the rocks, then starting to believe there could be some sort of future between her and Blake.
She might be professionally smart, but on a personal level she had a few things to learn.
Disjointed, illogical dreams prevented her from getting much sleep. Spiders kept invading her room, then Henri was talking to her, explaining about his life in the orphanage, then he morphed into an adult version of Blake, who ignored her to focus his attention on the blonde nurse clinging to his arm. When she confronted him, he patiently explained he didn’t love her because she was afraid of spiders.
She woke exhausted, crawled to the edge of her bed, then sat, holding her head in her hands. Heavens, her head hurt, as if her brain cells had worked several hours’ overtime, trying to make sense of her dreams. Forcing herself upright, she tested her ankle on the floor. It hurt but, surprisingly, not quite as badly as yesterday. Using the crutches, she shuffled toward the bathroom. A long, hot shower helped erase the cryptic messages etched on her subconscious. Thank goodness Freud wasn’t around to analyze her, he’d have a grand time delving into her psyche, she was sure.
She couldn’t do anything about Blake, but she could help Henri. Before heading over to the hospital, she decided to see if Terrance would be willing to cover her morning surgeries. All she needed was a few hours to get in touch with someone from Henri’s orphanage. It was really early, barely six, so she gathered her courage and called Terrance’s room.
“Hello?” His gruff voice only increased her guilt.
“Terrance, it’s Moriah. I’m sorry to bother you, but I need a favor. Will you cover for me, just for a couple of hours?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure. I’m on to cover lunches and breaks anyway.” He groaned, and she imagined he was crawling out of bed. “Give me a few minutes, and I’ll head over to the hospital.”
“Great. Thanks, Terrance. I owe you one.”
“Yeah, and don’t think I won’t collect that debt.”
Moriah grinned at his threat. “No problem.” She hung up the phone, wondering why she couldn’t find a guy like Terrance to get hung up on. He was good-looking, nice, and didn’t seem to be anti-family.
Although the idea entered her mind that loving Blake might be worth giving up her dreams of a family.
She caught her breath. No, she couldn’t do it.
Pushing aside her incessant thoughts, she focused on the present. Wishing Blake was different was useless. She might love him, but he’d made it clear he didn’t love her. Better to concentrate on helping Henri.
Her mission to find someone to grant consent for Henri’s surgery took longer than she’d thought it would, but after several phone calls and transfers to various people she finally had it. Sister Rita had raved about Henri, singing his praises for being such a good boy at the orphanage. Apparently, the older kids were responsible for helping out the younger ones and Henri was her pride and joy. Sister Rita was more than willing to give consent for his surgery, especially when Moriah promised to pick him up, saving the woman a trip to the city.
“Come for a visit, señorita,” the woman urged her. “Henri would love to see you.”
“I will,” she promised.
Satisfied with her progress, Moriah returned to Trujillo hospital to relieve Terrance. The moment she entered the OR suite, she could sense Blake wasn’t himself. A frown marred his brow and he seemed tense. Was this case more difficult than the others?
Blake was already in the middle of his second surgical case and Terrance was more than happy to turn the care of the patient over to her. While listening to Terrance update her on the patient’s condition, she heard Blake snap at the circulating nurse because she’d brought the wrong instrument tray.
She glared at him as the poor woman scuttled from the room to fetch the correct tray. His bad attitude was uncharacteristic and, in her opinion, uncalled for. She sent him a dark frown, but he ignored her as he turned back to his patient.
Sebastian was a seventeen-year-old boy with left-sided burns on his arm and leg. After taking a seat at the patient’s head, she announced the vital signs for Blake’s benefit.
“Sebastian is doing great. His heart rate is 82, blood pressure good at 106 over 70, pulse ox 99 per cent.”
“It’s a good thing
he’s doing well, because we’re already behind schedule.” Blake’s cutting tone reinforced his displeasure. “No thanks to your disappearing act this morning.”
“I didn’t disappear, I had things to do. And Terrance was here.”
“Yeah, well, there were things to do here, too.”
“Are you trying to tell me Sebastian’s care was compromised because Terrance provided his anesthesia?” She wasn’t about to listen to such nonsense. Blake remained silent, probably realizing how ridiculous he sounded. With a sigh Moriah settled in her seat and tried to change the subject. “After this case, I’d like to review the surgery schedule with you. I managed to get consent for Henri’s surgery.”
“Hmm.” The circulating nurse brought the replacement tray for Blake to use. He nodded, confirming that this time she’d found the right one, then went to work, concentrating his efforts on releasing the bad contracture in Sebastian’s left arm.
Moriah didn’t push for an answer, knowing there would be plenty of time for them to discuss Henri’s surgery later. She’d only mentioned it in the first place to distract him from his bad mood.
Besides, she already knew exactly which time slot she wanted for Henri. Sister Rita, as the person in charge of the orphanage, had consented to the surgery, but she’d made it clear she couldn’t provide Henri the care he’d require during his hospital stay. Moriah had assured the woman she’d take care of everything, and figured she could rearrange her schedule to do that. Since her next day off was two days from now, on Monday, she needed Blake to do the surgery on Sunday evening.
Hopefully, he wouldn’t mind. The Blake she knew wasn’t the type to hold a grudge, at least not when patient care was involved. Heck, if either one of them deserved to hold a grudge, she did.
“Bring the light closer, please. I need a clear path to visualize the artery clearly for this resection,” Blake told the circulating nurse.
“Vitals are still stable,” Moriah informed him.