Marie Ferrarella

by A Doctor's Secret

  Embarrassment kissed her cheeks, giving them a very inviting, pink hue. He caught himself wanting to rub his thumb along her cheek, to lightly trace the path of the color as it made its way up her skin.

  “I can come back if you’re too busy,” he offered.

  “No, there’s no point in that. We’re always busy,” she said quickly.

  God, but she felt like an idiot, forgetting those very basic instructions. Seeing him had knocked all logic out of her head. For a split second, she’d thought that maybe he’d come just to see her.

  Why should that even matter?

  It didn’t, she insisted silently.

  Doing her best to seem all business, she paused to slip on a pair of gloves. “How have you been doing?” she asked. “Any headaches, blurred vision—” she drew closer to him “—dizziness?”

  As she leaned forward to examine a bruise, he took in a deep breath, letting the scent of her perfume filter into his senses.

  “Maybe a little dizziness,” he allowed.

  Tania drew back to look at him, concerned. “When?”

  His smile hit her right in the pit of her stomach, causing a minor tidal wave. “Whenever I’m around you,” he told her innocently.

  “Oh, that kind of dizziness.” She gave him a knowing look. “The flirting kind.” She lightly touched another, larger bruise at the side of his neck. “I’m talking about the serious kind.”

  “Then no, no dizziness.” She stepped away for a moment and he twisted around to watch her. “You know, I don’t really do this sort of thing.”

  “Flirt?” Her mouth curved with amusement. “I find that hard to believe.”

  “No, go to a doctor, especially for something like ‘follow-up care.’” He’d grown up without any health care of any kind and learned to tough things out for the most part.

  She paused a moment, her eyes meeting his. He was just too damn good-looking. How she tried vainly to maintain proper boundaries. “Then why did you?”

  Jesse had a feeling that honesty was the best way to go with her. “Because I wanted to see you again and a follow-up seemed like a good excuse. You know,” he pointed out, “if you were a gnarled old man, I wouldn’t be here right now.”

  Tania couldn’t help smiling. “So this is all my fault.”

  He nodded solemnly, but his eyes gave him away. “That’s the way I see it.”

  She took a disinfectant out of the overhead cabinet, just in case. “But you are going to see me again,” she reminded him. “The play next Thursday.” She stopped as the thought occurred to her. “Or is that off?”

  “No, that’s very much on.” He barely felt her fingers as she gently examined the area around his stitches. “Listen, can you get away for a cup of coffee? I told them at the firm that I wouldn’t be back until after lunch, sometime around one. That gives me a least an hour to kill.”

  “And you want to kill some time with me?”

  She sounded amused, he thought, grateful that she hadn’t taken his statement the wrong way. “That didn’t come out right, did it?”

  He heard her laugh. “At least I know you’re not the type who hands out lines. Unless this tripping-over-your-own-tongue is really just a bit.”

  Her lab coat brushed against his face as she examined another scrape. “Not very trusting, are you?”

  No, she thought, trust was forfeited more than ten years ago. She finished and gazed down at him. “I’m a New Yorker, remember?”

  Jesse studied her for a long moment. “No, I think it might be something more than that.”

  That he could see past the surface made her uncomfortable. “I thought you said you were an architect, not a psychiatrist.” Stepping back, she removed the rubber gloves and then tossed them into the wastebasket. “Well, you look fine. The stitches are coming along nicely. No sign of infection. You won’t be needing any more follow-up care,” she told him. “Unless there’s a problem.”

  This had gone much too quickly and he wasn’t willing to give up her presence just yet. “Well, my first problem is that you won’t have coffee with me.”

  She made a notation in his chart. An enigmatic smile played on her lips. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t.”

  “Then it’s yes?”

  Done with the chart, she flipped it closed. He was relieved to see humor in her eyes. “I didn’t say that, either. I don’t like being second-guessed.”

  He kept it light. “The question is, do you like coffee?”

  What was it about this man that made her want to smile? She remembered Natalya’s words about the goofy smile and waiting until it was her turn.

  Just proved that her sister didn’t know everything, Tania thought stubbornly. If she had a goofy smile, it had nothing to do with being in love, just being tickled and amused, that’s all.

  “Yes,” she told him, “I like coffee.”

  “Then would you be willing to have a cup with me now?” he asked.

  He was asking, not assuming. They were making progress.

  “Better,” she commented with a nod of her head. “But the answer’s still no. I just had my break,” she explained. “And we’re full up here. So, Mr. Steele, if you don’t have any further questions—”

  Anticipating her departure, Jesse slid off the gurney to his feet. He grabbed the suit jacket he’d removed. “Oh, but I do. Lots of questions.”

  “Such as?”

  Placing himself between her and the door, Jesse began to enumerate.

  “What’s your favorite color? Are you a morning person or an evening person? Do you prefer long walks on the beach or window-shopping on Fifth Avenue? What kind of movies do you prefer?” Jesse took in a breath. “Are you—”

  “Wait, wait,” she cried, laughing, raising her hands up to stop the torrent of words. “I meant questions about your condition.”

  He turned the word to his advantage. “This is about my condition,” Jesse told her innocently. Taking one of her hands, he placed it across his chest. She could feel the beat of his heart beneath her fingertips. “My heart condition.”

  She rolled her eyes as she reclaimed her hand. “Oh, brother.” Still laughing, she shook her head. “I take it back. You do have lines.”

  The grin on his lips slipped into a smile, a small, deep, heartfelt smile. “No, actually,” he told her solemnly, “I don’t. Nothing’s tried and true here. I’m just saying what comes into my head.” His eyes held hers. Something rippled inside her very core. “There’s something going on here, Tania. An attraction I haven’t felt in a long, long time.” Since the episode with Ellen, he hadn’t really trusted any of the women he’d come across. The few he had gone out with in the last six months had been interchangeable. But this was different. He could feel it in his bones and he needed to explore it further. “I’m hoping it’s not one-sided.”

  Why couldn’t she lie? Other people lied without effort. But she couldn’t.

  “No,” she admitted with more than a little reluctance. “It’s not.”

  He’d heard project bids rejected with more joy. “You don’t sound very happy about it.”

  “I don’t trust attractions, Jesse.” It felt strange saying his name, strange removing that small, artificial barrier between them where he called her by her title and she used his surname. This was getting way too personal way too fast.

  Jesse was silent for a moment and then he asked, “Relationship go sour?”

  Too close, too close, her mind cried, sounding an alarm. “I don’t know you well enough to tell you that,” she said stiffly.

  She needed boundaries, he could live with that. For now. “I’m willing to wait.”

  It was going to be a very long wait. She shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  Damn, but he wanted to kiss her, to break through her reserve and get her to trust him. But he knew he couldn’t. Slow and steady, his mother used to say. “You know, you’re a lot more complicated than you seem.”

  She raised her chin, not happy that he had her pe
gged so easily so quickly. “Life is more complicated than we’re led to believe,” she countered.

  He didn’t quite see it that way. “Not the important things. They’re still relatively simple.” Because he could see that he hadn’t convinced her, he enumerated, “Love, loyalty, family.”

  Tania laughed despite herself. And then she shook her head. And where had she heard that before? “My father would love you.”

  The ex-policeman, he recalled. “I’d like to meet him.”

  Oh, no, she wasn’t about to bring him around. She hadn’t brought anyone around in ten years and it was staying that way. Her family was precious, this was just a diversion, albeit a good-looking one, but just a diversion, nothing more.

  “You’re getting ahead of yourself,” she told him quietly.

  He took no offense. Instead he agreed with her, in an effort to catch her off guard.

  “I have that tendency,” he admitted. “Part of my go-getter personality.” And then he became serious again, just for a moment. “I won’t hurt you, Tania.”

  Her response was glib. “I know.” Because I won’t let you.

  He broke the tense moment with a laugh, dragging his hand through his hair, careful to avoid the area with the stitches. “Wow, this is a lot more serious than I intended to get.” He slipped on his jacket and left it unbuttoned. “So, no coffee?”

  He was tempting her more than she was happy about, but she wasn’t about to bend the rules over something as minor as an illegal break.

  “No coffee.”

  Taking her answer in stride, he had a second request. “Walk me out?”

  Did he never stop? “How long are you going to play the irresistible card?”

  “As long as I can.” In the corridor, he glanced around. To his left was the front of the hospital, to his right, the way he’d come in the first time, on a gurney. It was closer and far less busy. “Can I take the back way?”

  Leaving was leaving. Tania shrugged. “Sure.” And then, since everyone went out the front, curiosity got the better of her. “Why?”

  “Because it’s shorter and it gives me a shot at asking you to walk with me a little longer.”

  He was charming, she thought. And she needed to be on her guard. “I’m on duty.”

  He nodded, acknowledging her words with a solemn, straight face. “I know.”

  “That means I should be attending to other patients. Real patients,” she emphasized in case he missed the obvious point.

  “I am a real patient,” he told her. “If you prick me, do I not bleed? If you kill me, do I not die?”

  He was damn cute and he knew it. “Okay, okay, Shylock. I’ll walk you—but just to the back exit.” If he thought he could convince her to keep walking until they came to the coffee shop on the next block, he was in for a disappointment.

  He spread his hands innocently, fighting the urge to slip an arm around her shoulder. “I’m not a demanding man.”

  “The hell you’re not.”

  Tania walked beside him until they came to the rear doors. When they opened, she took a few steps outside. Going further than she knew she should. She was aware that they’d garnered more than a few glances as they passed some of the hospital staff.

  Still his fifteen minutes of fame, she thought, amused.

  “Okay, here we are, outside.” She gestured about the opened area to underscore her point. “Now, off you go.”

  But he lingered. And the look in his eyes told her why. “One more thing.”

  “Of course there is.” Resigned, she asked, “And that is?”

  There was not a hint of a smile on his face as he said, “I’d like to kiss you. I normally don’t believe in asking for permission, but with you, I have a feeling that I should.”

  A breeze of anxiety mingled with anticipation. This man was too damn intuitive for her own good, Tania thought. He was changing the rules and blurring the parameters. She desperately needed to be on top, to take charge.

  So, instead of answering, Tania took his face in her hands, raised herself up on her toes and pressed her lips against his. The moment she did, the control she thought she’d just taken instantly slipped right through her fingers like water through a sieve.

  Her head swirled.

  It was just like the first time, except more. More exhilarating, more overwhelming, more exciting.

  More.

  Caught off guard, Tania leaned her body into his as the kiss continued to deepen. Her hands left his face and were now knotted around his neck, anchoring her because she was afraid of being swept out to sea.

  Afraid of this kiss.

  And more afraid of it ending.

  The longing she’d felt the other night returned in spades, hot and demanding, and she was oh so grateful they were out here, in public, so that nothing could come of it. So that she couldn’t give in to the urges that all but ravaged her.

  There it was again, Jesse thought. The want. The need. Battering his body so that he could hardly stand it. He knew he had to break contact before he broke into a million little pieces.

  Breathing heavily, he leaned his cheek against the top of her head, just holding her for a moment. Waiting for the fever to pass.

  “I’m glad I asked,” he finally said softly.

  “Me, too,” she murmured before she could stop herself. She was giving too much away, damn it.

  He stepped back to look at her, reluctantly releasing her from his arms. “I’ll see you next Thursday.”

  And with that, he turned on his heel and walked away. Quickly.

  Aroused, shaken, confused, Tania stood to the side of the electronic E.R. doors, watching him go. Her insides were so jumbled, she didn’t know where to begin to try to sort them out.

  At the very least, she needed her heart to stop doing double-time.

  Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and let it out very slowly. When she opened her eyes again, she realized that she was experiencing that odd sensation again. The one that had her thinking someone was watching her.

  She looked around, but there was no one there, no one visible.

  Get a grip, she ordered herself.

  Turning, she walked back through the electronic doors. A candy striper quickly moved out of her way.

  “Sorry,” the woman apologized.

  Preoccupied, Tania merely nodded. “My fault,” she murmured as she hurried back to the central desk.

  Chapter 9

  The state-of-the-art printer hummed loudly as the color ink-jets within it rhythmically passed back and forth over the four-by-six glossy paper being fed through its carriage.

  Slowly the paper inched its way out of the mouth of the printer, displaying an image of two people kissing.

  The moment the process was finished, she snatched the paper from the printer, tossing the newly minted photograph on top of the other photographs she’d just printed. The captured images formed an untidy little pile, all of which had been locked within the tiny, thin body of a memory stick.

  Now those images were multiplying, emerging on paper and sealing themselves into the computer’s hard drive where they would remain forever more.

  Until rage or its kin made her delete them.

  It wasn’t that she was storing and producing the images for sentiment’s sake.

  Quite the opposite was true.

  Sentiment had only been involved in the flattering photographs she’d taken of Jesse, the ones that made love to his face, to his body, or caught him in midaction, doing something noble, the way it had that day he’d come to the jeweler’s aid.

  There’d even been poetic images, thanks to the long-range lens she’d invested in. Images like the ones of Jesse being taken out of the ambulance and into the hospital. A hero in need of mending.

  Those she’d printed up immediately. They joined the others, the hundreds of photographs both on her computer and in the score of albums she’d painstakingly put together. The albums that she’d sit and pore over, night after night.
Looking and remembering.

  And waiting.

  But these photographs that the printer was now spitting out, the ones she planned to upload onto her hard drive, they served a different purpose.

  They were to galvanize her into action, to make her remember that she couldn’t become too complacent. To remind her that there was a threat and she had to be ready to deal with it.