American Surgeon in London

by Lynne Marshall

  There was simply not enough time to have a well-balanced life in her line of work.

  Grace reached for his hand and squeezed it. “Thank you so much for this superspecial introduction to London. Every time I look at that overgrown Ferris wheel I’ll think of my adventurous pod man and smile.”

  He grinned, moved in closer and pecked her cheek. “Thank you for understanding.”

  She lowered her eyelids and nodded. “More than you know.”

  He connected with her eyes once more; there was that pang of remorse again as they shared a silent agreement—this had only been for tonight. The poignant moment stretched on until the cabbie cleared his throat.

  From the mood she’d slipped into, she’d probably only projected what she thought had been a look of regret in his eyes. She knew for a fact he could detect it in her gaze.

  Soon the door shut, he gave the cabbie some money and instructions. “Take the lovely lady home.”

  As the car pulled away from the curb, and Mitch’s scent lingered on, Grace looked out the back window at the most amazing man she’d ever met. He stood there, posed with one hand in his pocket and his head cocked slightly to the side, as if he was a suave street artist, watching her leave.

  Whatever or whoever he was, he would forever be etched in her mind as her pod man—quite possibly a figment of her imagination.

  But then she glanced down at her legs and saw the gaping rip in her stockings.

  No. Adventurous pod man was real. She sighed.

  Life sure had a sucky way of rubbing bad timing into her scarred skin, and reminding her she was completely alone and without prospects beyond her new job.

  CHAPTER TWO

  GRACE WALKED up the four steps to the classic white building on Harley Street. The twin black doors on either side of a window with a colorful blooming flower box, separating entrance and exit, looked sedate and simple. But when she opened the door to the most sparkling, modern, opulent waiting room she’d ever seen, she blinked. Gray-and-black marble floors, white leather chairs, a crystal pedestal beneath a glass table in the center with a fuchsia-colored chandelier above it, nearly took her breath away.

  A young and attractive blonde woman sat in one of the seats, quietly thumbing through a fashion magazine. Next to her, a middle-aged redhead, showing the results of some recent facial surgery, watched Grace’s every move.

  She walked to the front desk, where another middle-aged, beautifully coiffed woman, with a name badge that said Helen, Senior Receptionist waited with a smile. Grace gave her name and her reason for being there, then turned to take a seat. She barely had time to sit in one of those amazing chairs or read the long list of surgeons’ names on the wall when the dashing Leo Hunter himself opened a door and invited her inside. Where had he been last night?

  Tall, with longish black hair that flipped out a little under his ear lobes, sparkling, ocean-blue eyes, and a totally fit-looking frame, he was a man who obviously turned a lot of heads when he walked down the street. At least, he’d already turned hers, plus those of the two other ladies sharing the waiting room, though she hoped her obvious appreciation of his great looks wasn’t as obvious as theirs.

  The dashing surgeon offered a welcoming smile. Great teeth, too! “Grace, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Thank you. Nice to meet you, too. Sorry I missed you last night. I had a good time, though.”

  He took a beat to think before those gorgeous eyes lit up. “Oh, the fund-raiser. Glad you enjoyed it. Yes, well, I had a great excuse—making honeymoon plans with the busiest travel agent in London.”

  “How wonderful. Congratulations.”

  They shook hands and he showed her into his office, gesturing for her to sit as he rounded his huge walnut desk and took his seat. “You’re going to love it here, and I’ve been eagerly awaiting your arrival.” He shuffled papers around while she sat.

  “Thank you. I’m very excited about getting started myself.”

  Leo settled down and rested one hand on top of the other at his desk. “You’ve come highly recommended, you know. And what you did for those childhood cancer survivors in Arizona—reconstructing their faces, noses and jaws—well, I was blown away by your talent. That’s when I knew I wanted, no, needed someone of your caliber here at our clinic.”

  Overcome with his compliments, she felt a blush coming on. She’d worn a thin white turtleneck under her spring-blue blazer. Maybe she’d have a fighting chance to cover up the warmth as it started on her chest and worked its way up her neck and cheeks before blossoming into pink. “You’re too kind, Mr. Hunter.”

  “Call me Leo, please.”

  “Leo,” she practiced, knowing that out of respect for him and his world-renowned clinic, it would probably never come easily to her.

  “We have weekly staff meetings to discuss our various cases, and we share notes from both our successes and challenges. The point is to keep growing and learning. Don’t you agree?”

  “Wholeheartedly. That’s why I accepted your generous offer to work here.” She wouldn’t go into the fact about needing to get away from her stuck-in-first-gear life.

  He flashed that charming smile again and stood. “What do you say I give you a tour of our clinic? You’ll have an office here as well, of course, plus scheduled procedures, but you’ll be doing your more complicated surgeries at Princess Catherine’s or the Lighthouse Children’s hospitals, like everyone else.”

  She nodded as he came round the desk again and directed her out of his office door.

  “I’ll introduce you to some of the staff. Unfortunately, a lot of them are in Theater this morning.”

  He walked her further down the long, pristine hall, with original artwork hanging on the walls, stunning her with color and beauty. Not a single comfort had been spared in this clinic.

  He popped his head inside an office. It was empty. He respected the privacy of all occupied procedure rooms, but announced himself then tugged her inside the staff lounge. A half dozen nurses greeted her with genuine smiles, and she felt warmly welcomed and thought maybe she’d finally found a place where she could belong.

  Though most of the office doors were closed, she saw the nameplates on them: Iain McKenzie, Rafael de Luca, Edward North, Abbie de Luca, Declan Underwood, Kara Stephens. The hallway forked in another direction, with more names on the office doors. All closed. Then around the corner, at the far end, was another closed door. The plaque read Ethan Hunter, his office as far away from his brother’s office as possible in this building.

  “Sorry things look a bit like a ghost town today, but we keep a heavy schedule. Mondays are always busy and everyone is either in Theater or preparing to do surgery.”

  “I understand.”

  A chirpy female voice came from another office as they doubled back.

  “Oh, at least I can introduce you to Alexia Robbins. Lexi, as we call her. She’s our head of public relations.” He tapped on the partially open door. “Lexi?”

  She was on the phone, but immediately waved them in while she quickly finished up her conversation. “Great, I’ll have all the information to you by this afternoon. Thanks!”

  She hung up and looked excitedly at Leo. “Just scored a two-minute promo on the local news station about yesterday’s charity event at the Eye.” She stopped talking when she realized Leo wasn’t alone.

  “Fantastic,” he said. “Tell me all about it later.”

  “Will do.”

  “Lexi, this is Grace Turner, our newest reconstructive surgeon.”

  “Oh, lovely to meet you.” Lexi jumped to her feet and offered her hand. They shook lightly. Grace immediately liked the tall, bubbly lady with blonde hair and an hourglass figure, wearing a bright pink dress. Her flashing blue eyes gave off a mischievous glint. “If there’s anything I can do to help in any way …”

  “As a matter of fact,” Leo said, “I was hoping you’d give her a tour of the hospitals this afternoon.”

  “Love to.”
r />   “Grand. Talk later.” Leo moved toward the door.

  “Hold on, mister,” Lexi said playfully. “How is the honeymoon planning going?”

  Leo gave her a look. She wouldn’t back down. “Well?”

  “What do you think, Lexi? I’ve married the most wonderful girl in the world. Paris in June will be perfect.”

  Lexi’s cheeks pinkened with pleasure. She nearly sighed, like a woman in love. Leo glanced at Grace, who was feeling very out of the loop.

  “Lexi recently got engaged herself, so she’s being a busybody.”

  “It’s my job, being in PR and all,” she teased back, playing with the ring band … which held a huge rock. Wow.

  Grace had never seen anything like it. Whatever the stone, it was humongous and pink, and all the little surrounding diamonds sparkled around it.

  “So what do you say, Grace, is noon good for you?” Lexi tore Grace away from her thoughts. “We can grab lunch at the clinic buffet before we head over to the hospitals.”

  “Sounds good. Thank you.”

  Off Leo and Grace went, retracing their steps along the row of closed doors. “We do a lot of our plastics on-site. Down there is the recovery room. Plus we make arrangements for many of our patients to spend the night in nearby luxury recovery apartments,” he said.

  She’d gotten the impression many of the first-floor apartments in her building were there for that very reason.

  “I’ve put you next to another American. Wanted to make you feel at home.”

  He opened the door and showed her the beautifully decorated office that would be hers. It was small but comfortable with a lovely window that let in daylight. She turned in a circle looking at everything, thinking how she’d utilize the space, cabinets and amazing medical library. She went behind her chrome-and-glass desk and tested out the white leather chair. “I love it.”

  “Wonderful.” Leo leaned against the doorframe. “Cooper! Come out and meet your new neighbor,” Leo called into the hallway, then looked back at her. “I’m glad you like it. You’ll get along swimmingly with Mitchell Cooper. He’s one of our top plastic surgeons. Been with us four years now.” Leo smiled at someone outside in the hallway. “Come and meet Grace Turner. She’s American, too.”

  Popping into the doorway, sporting a wide grin, adventurous pod man appeared. And Grace nearly fell out of her custom comfort chair.

  She looked at him. He stared back. Both of them were wide-eyed and unbelieving. A silent message jumped between them, followed by a quick bargain. Leo wouldn’t find out that they’d already met. Agreed.

  “Grace, meet Mitchell Cooper.”

  Mustering every ounce of poise she owned, Grace stood and stretched out her hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mitchell.”

  He accepted her proffered hand and shook it. “The pleasure’s all mine. Welcome to Harley Street.” Quick memories of how she’d squeezed his hand in the cab, just before he’d bussed her cheek, caught her off guard.

  A large cat must have hovered over the office, taking their tongues as heavy silence overtook the room. Leo glanced between the two of them, as if trying to figure out what had just happened. “Do you two already know each other?”

  “No!” they said in unison, exchanging surreptitious glances.

  Leo didn’t look convinced, but didn’t press it. “Well, I’ll leave you alone to get acquainted, then. You can talk Dodger dogs and touchdowns, or whatever it is Americans …” His voice trailed off as he headed for the door then turned on his heel. “We’ve got some major cases coming in and we’ll be utilizing your skills and talents right off, Grace. I’ve left the first one on your desk.” He glanced at Mitchell. “And I think you’ll make a great team on the Cumberbatch case, too.” Then he was off.

  The silence grew nearly deafening as Grace stared at Mitch in disbelief, not knowing whether to be happy or regretful that she’d seen him again. What if he was in a serious relationship with someone, and he’d strayed a little last night? How awkward. From the caution in his eyes, Grace settled on the regretful side of the scale.

  “Look,” he said, “I had no idea you were our new surgeon.” He grabbed his head. “Stupid, stupid, stupid. I should have put things together.”

  “I didn’t offer any information either.”

  “I should have asked, but I got this crazy idea about having a minivacation with Madam X.” He made air quotes with his fingers around the name. “For crying out loud, I apologize.” He looked seriously sorry, too.

  “There’s nothing to apologize for. I had fun. I don’t know about you, but I did, anyway.” She leaned against the edge of her desk.

  “Yes. Of course it was fun. But the thing is, I never would have treated you that way if I’d known you were the new team member.”

  “Then I’m glad you didn’t know.”

  “It’s just bad business on my part. Bad form.” His hands rested on his trim hips. She couldn’t help but notice.

  He wore a starched white shirt and blue Paisley-patterned tie to complement his navy slacks. His knee-length doctor’s coat covered all of his best parts, as she recalled—the wide shoulders and strong arms—arms that had lifted her nearly over the fence without effort.

  “Stop it,” she said. “We did what we did. Now we forget about it and get professional. That’s all. It’s not like we had sex or anything.”

  An impish gleam entered his wonderfully green eyes. Thank goodness he remembered the fun they’d had. “But we’re pod people. Young adventurers. How do we forget that?”

  She couldn’t help it. He’d tried to lighten the mood and successfully made her laugh. Were all women like putty in his hands? “Stop it.”

  She searched for something and ineptly threw a piece of paper from her desk at him. A sorry weapon, it floated nowhere near where he stood. He pretended to dodge it anyway. “But I suppose we’ll always have that.” She fought back the urge to laugh more, liking him for bringing it up.

  He raised and dropped his brows. “Just two peas in a pod.”

  That did it. She sputtered a laugh, and he joined her. “Stop it, I said.”

  He shook his head, looking chagrined. “I broke up with you.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and grimaced. “Do you realize I had the audacity to pick you up in a pod, nearly get you arrested in a public playground, buy you dinner on a barstool, then send you home in a cab, hardly explaining why I could never see you again? I’m an idiot. What in the hell must you think of me?”

  She wanted to say she’d thought about him the rest of the night. She’d thought about him as she’d showered and dressed for work today, too, and the word idiot had never come into the mix. But she knew better.

  They needed to forget their extraordinary night out and move on to reality. They were colleagues now. They’d have to see each other every day, and it was never a good idea to get involved with a coworker, especially in such a small clinic like this. They needed to keep their distance from each other, leave well enough alone. It was so obvious.

  Just because he’d said he was divorced last night, it didn’t mean he was a free man. He probably had half a dozen kids he needed to divide all of his spare time among. But look at that, he was staring at her legs, and since she’d worn a high-waisted pencil skirt, there was plenty of leg to stare at. She crossed her ankles and pretended not to notice.

  He’d sent her home in that cab for a good reason, and there was no point in dredging it up now. “What I think of you doesn’t matter any more because we’re colleagues and I’ve already had my first case assigned to me. From now on we’re strictly business. Okay?”

  It was safe, too, since she’d never shown her scars to a man who wasn’t one of her doctors. Except for her ex-fiancé, and what a disaster that had turned out to be. How could she possibly venture into a relationship with anyone, no matter how well and easily they got along, when no man would ever want her. Boy, she’d certainly jumped ahead…. What was it about Mitchell Cooper that made her want to?
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  His tentative expression turned thoughtful. He was obviously working through the steps on how to undo a perfectly wonderful evening with a woman he’d never expected to see again but who was now his office mate, too. “Okay. Makes sense. Strictly business partners. Got it. Probably for the best anyway.”

  She spotted that same look he’d left her with last night, and she’d interpreted it—projected her own feelings into it—as regret. That truly was how she felt, and that’s how life was sometimes—loaded with regret. And secrets best not shared.

  He took her hand and shook again. “Nice to meet you, Grace Turner. If you need any ‘strictly professional’ help, I’ll be right next door.” With that, he turned and left.

  Mitch wanted to kick the hallway wall. He’d botched up a perfectly good partnership, making his new colleague feel uncomfortable and regretting ever having laid eyes on him. The thing was, he’d really, really liked her, and it had taken every last kernel of restraint not to ask for her phone number last night, even though on the surface she wasn’t the kind of mommy material he had in mind.

  But as always, before he’d been able to get the words out, the pain he’d endured from his wife choosing his best friend over him had strangled the thought out of him. He needed to forget about women for a while, especially beautiful women, and focus on what mattered most in his life—his daughter, Mia, and his job.

  Some flaw in his ex’s self-esteem had turned her into a plastic-surgery addict, even though she’d been beautiful to begin with. Now he hardly recognized her doll-like appearance. And he was damned if he’d let that weakness be a constant example for his Mia. He’d moved as far away as possible four years ago, once they’d divorced and Christie had given him full custody of their daughter.

  Those were the things he needed to focus on—his reason for being at this clinic, and for moving to London. A better life for Mia. Not the beautiful and fun-loving Grace Turner next door. A man was an idiot if he didn’t learn from his mistakes.