by Amy Ruttan
“What the heck?” she asked. “I thought the new system was supposed to control these brownouts.”
There were murmurs and shouts of shock.
“No,” Zac whispered. “No.”
Ella was surprised by the sound of panic in Zac’s voice, the terror etched on his face under the emergency lights. “It’s probably just a brownout. Like before. The generator will kick—”
“Son of a...” was shouted as someone further down the darkened hall knocked over a tray of metallic instruments. Followed by the clang of metal echoing and bouncing off the hospital walls.
Zac froze. His eyes were wide with terror as he backed against the wall, trembling. Ella was shocked, because he didn’t even seem to know that she was there. His body was rigid in terror. Just like after the corks at the wedding. When the pops had sounded, she’d seen him freeze, then duck under the table. He’d seemed to recover quickly, but afterwards he’d left the room, looking pale. No one had noticed in the confusion of the wedding, but she’d seen it.
“Zac?” she asked softly, reaching out to touch him, but he pushed her hand away, as if her touch would harm him.
A couple of porters who were making their way down the darkened hallway stopped and stared at Zac, who was breathing deeply but clinging to the wall like he was on the edge of a precipice and was about to fall.
And she recognized the classic symptoms of post-traumatic stress disorder. No one had said anything to her about Zac having post-traumatic stress disorder. That would be something they would disclose about a new doctor working at the hospital to the head of that surgeon’s respective departments.
I don’t think anyone knows.
One thing she did know, she had to get him out of there and calmed down.
“Come on, Zac. Let’s go.” She took his hand and this time he didn’t fight her off. She pulled him into the nearest empty on-call room and shut the door. She led him to the cot and made him sit down. “Breathe, it’s okay. It was just a porter knocking over some instruments.”
Zac nodded, but didn’t look at her. He just took deep, calming breaths.
What had happened to him during his tour of duty?
“I’m okay,” he said. “I’m okay.”
“You sure?” she asked, not wholly convinced that he was all right.
“I’m fine,” he snapped.
Of course, he was back to normal. The ungrateful jerk that he always was. Not even thanking her for taking him somewhere quiet where he could center himself.
“I’m so glad,” she retorted. She had to put some distance between her and Zac. “Well, I’m just going to head back to the trauma floor and make sure the patients are okay.”
“Sounds good.”
Ella pulled on the doorknob and it popped off. She stared at it in horror.
“Did you just pull the handle off?” Zac asked in horror.
“Yes,” she said, and then it was her turn to curse. There was no way out of the room. She was stuck there with Zac Davenport until someone came to get them out.
CHAPTER TWO
ZAC COULDN’T BELIEVE he was staring at the doorknob in Ella’s hand. He was still a bit in shock. It was bad enough that he’d had that momentary blip of PTSD in front of her. He just needed to put some distance between her and him, but now that really wasn’t an option.
It’s because you’re working too hard.
He shook that thought away. Work was the only thing that helped. It kept the ghosts at bay. Saving lives helped him focus and forget. He was a trauma surgeon, that was his job, and that’s all he needed to worry about. Of course it was hard to be a trauma surgeon locked in an on-call room.
“Give me that,” he snapped, snatching the doorknob from her and trying to cram it back where it was supposed to be.
“Oh, my God, why didn’t I think of that?” She slapped her forehead. “I forgot you had the ability to fuse metal.”
Her sarcasm was grating on the last of his nerves.
“Dammit, Ella.” He threw the doorknob down and scrubbed his hands over his face. This was not happening.
“It’s not my fault.”
She was right. It wasn’t her fault that the doorknob was defective. She’d made it clear that she wanted to leave the room just as much as he did. And he shouldn’t be angry at her, he should be angry at himself.
If he hadn’t run after her he wouldn’t be in this mess.
If the power hadn’t gone out, he wouldn’t be in this mess and if that tray of instruments hadn’t been knocked over... Just the thought of the metal hitting the polished floor, the clattering against the walls made his pulse kick it up a notch.
Get a hold on yourself.
He didn’t want to have another attack here now, locked in a room with her.
Although Ella wasn’t stupid. She’d probably figured out that what had happened had been a PTSD attack.
No one in his family knew about it, except Charles, who knew that Zac had been cleared for work. Of course, it rarely made an appearance. He kept it in check.
But even Charles didn’t know the exact reasons he’d left the navy and had accepted his honorable discharge. No one needed to know. He’d tried to stay in Annapolis and work there, but working on injured veterans had brought back the horror of his last tour of duty all too well.
And just thinking about it, the screams from last Christmas filled his head.
“I need to sit down.” He pushed past Ella in the small on-call room and sat down.
Why did he have to be locked in an on-call room with her right now?
The one woman he’d never really been able to resist. The one woman who his family had been trying to marry him off to since he’d been a young man. He didn’t want to ever get married. Adventure had been his goal and family just tied you down, stopped you from living your life. On his own he could do whatever he wanted.
Life was too fragile. Lives could be cut short in the blink of an eye and after what had happened with his parents, with his father cheating on his mother, yeah, marriage was something he’d never wanted. Settling down had never been on his agenda.
Ever.
For so many years he’d tried to keep Ella Lockwood at arm’s length, but that summer before they’d both headed off to medical school, they’d connected.
Ella had been so much more than the awkward society princess he’d thought she was. She had been curvy, clumsy and her self-esteem had been shaky, but there had been something about her that had drawn him to her.
And he’d known from past experience he had a hard time resisting her.
Though he’d tried. He’d been going off to Annapolis. He hadn’t wanted to be tied down because he’d had these childhood feelings for Ella Lockwood.
Then that Christmas at her parents’ home in the Hamptons, right before he was going back, they kissed and he knew he had to walk away from her or there would be no turning back. She fired his blood and it frightened him, the hold she’d had on him. That she still had on him.
After that night he didn’t see her again. Not even at the party her parents threw the next day. She just vanished without saying goodbye. It stung, but it was for the best. He couldn’t offer her anything, although he never forgot her.
He hadn’t seen her in so long.
When he’d learned she was a senior surgeon in the ER at Manhattan Mercy, he’d been shocked. He had been naive to think that the years apart would have calmed his reaction to her. After the horrors of war, he had been certain that she’d have no effect.
He’d been wrong.
So wrong. There was a fire in her, a drive he admired, but she was still off limits. Every woman was. He didn’t want a relationship ever. He’d come home to make amends with his family, but that was it. His stance on marriage hadn’t change
d.
Zac stood up and pulled off his white lab coat, tossing it on the bed.
“What’re you doing?” Ella asked.
“Push-ups,” he muttered as he dropped to the floor and began to do push-ups. Exercise and hard work was how he forced his nightmares away. It’s also how he dealt with sexual frustration.
Despite the friction between them at work, when he’d seen Ella at Charles’s wedding, he’d wanted to kiss her again. To take it further, like he’d wanted to do before he’d left.
But she’d blown him off.
She’d avoided him since he’d arrived and he didn’t know why. It had frustrated him. Just like having a breakdown in front of her had.
Most of his family didn’t even know about his PTSD, and he certainly didn’t want Ella Lockwood to know about it.
He had to put it out of his mind. Talking about what had happened wouldn’t do him any good.
“I’ll call for a janitor.” She pulled out her cellphone.
He stopped his push-ups and sat on the floor. “You have the janitor’s number on your cell?”
“There are messes in the ER that sometimes need a janitor’s touch stat,” she said as she pushed the contact on her phone.
Zac rolled his eyes. “Of course, what was I thinking?”
Ella shook her head. “Hello? It’s Dr. Lockwood. Dr. Davenport and I are stuck in an on-call room in the ER. On-call room four at the end of the hall. The doorknob came off. Right. Okay, but...yeah. Okay.” She ended the call.
“Well?”
“They’re trying to get the power back on. The new generators failed and it’s imperative they get the power back on before the battery backups on critical machines fail.”
“Of course.” He understood, but he really didn’t want to start off his shift like this. It was bad enough that he hardly ever slept anyway, but sitting still in a locked room with Ella would exhaust him more.
When he was busy he was able to chase away the demons from his tour of duty and keep the exhaustion at bay. The only thing that calmed him down was saving lives. In the operating room he was in control of everything.
Here he had no control.
Ella sank down on the bed. “At least there are very capable residents on the trauma floor in case something happens. I hate it when the ER is quiet.”
Zac nodded. “I’m sure you’ve trained them well.”
“Merry Christmas,” she said, then chuckled half-heartedly.
“Yeah, for sure.”
“I’m surprised you’re on rotation tonight. Doesn’t your family go all out for Christmas, like mine?” she asked.
“Yeah, but I haven’t been to a Christmas in a long time, and since I’m new to Manhattan Mercy I told Charles that I would work. Pay my dues. I don’t want others to think that because I’m a Davenport I get all these perks.”
“Really?”
“You seemed surprised by that.”
“I am,” she said, and sat cross-legged on the bed.
“Why?” he asked. “You know me.”
Ella stared at him, but it was hard to read her expression. “I did, but it’s been years since I’ve seen you. You could’ve changed. I mean, we’ve all changed.”
“Yeah,” he said. He’d changed. He was numb and though he survived his last tour of duty he felt like his soul was dead.
He was cold inside. In pain.
“I haven’t changed that much, Ella.”
Liar.
“Then I’m sorry. It’s just...given your name I assumed you got a free ride.”
“No, to Charles my name means nothing. I had to interview for a position and he expects me to work hard. I didn’t just get this position handed to me. And if I hadn’t got a position here I would’ve gone to another hospital.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Apology accepted.” Zac scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Well, since you’ve been in the service for so long I thought you’d be with your family instead of working.”
“It’s more important Charles is off for his boys. I don’t have kids or anything to tie me down.”
“True,” she said.
“How about you? Your parents usually have a big do as well. I know because our mothers competed slightly to get guests to attend.”
Ella smiled at him then, a deep dimple on her cheek that just made her smile all that more irresistible, and her blue eyes twinkled in the dim light from the emergency lighting in the room.
“I forgot about that,” she said wistfully.
“What? The party or the fact that our mothers compete?”
“Competition obviously. I’m painfully aware of my mother’s Christmas party.” She shuddered for good measure and he laughed.
He missed these easy talks they’d had. And that thought scared him. How she drew him in. It’s what their parents had wanted since they were young. He’d always balked at the idea and resented that Ella had been constantly pushed on him, but there was a part of him that wanted her.
He still wanted her, even after all this time.
When he’d stolen that kiss from her, he’d wanted more. He remembered that kiss clearly, touching her face, the taste of her lips and the sound of the small sigh that had escaped her lips when they’d parted.
Her cheeks had been flushed pink and those blue eyes had dilated with desire.
In that moment he’d wanted more, but her sister had walked in and Ella had run away.
And then he hadn’t seen her at the Christmas party, hadn’t seen her before he’d left to go back to Annapolis, which he’d thought was for the best. Only he could never get that kiss out of his head. It was the only kiss he’d never forgotten.
Ella was the one who’d got away.
But he couldn’t have her. He didn’t want to tie her to a broken shell of a man. Didn’t want to marry any one ever. He didn’t want family. He didn’t want to risk his heart to have it destroyed. With love came pain and as he’d served tours of duty he’d seen a lot of pain and suffering. The idea of losing someone he loved that much scared him to his core, because he saw the pain when a parent buried a child.
When a husband buried a wife.
The pain and loss of life.
And he’d experienced it. He’d been too close to it. His heart began to race.
“So, why are you working tonight?” he asked, trying to steer his thoughts away from the painful trajectory they were taking.
“I wasn’t supposed to be working tonight. The storm hit and I’m stuck here.” There was a hint of happiness in her voice and he couldn’t help but laugh at that.
“You sound relieved,” he said.
“I am! You know how my mother’s parties go. We all dress up in...” Her voice trailed off and she cleared her throat. “They’re a dreadful bore.”
Zac thought she was going to talk about the terrible dresses that Mrs. Lockwood seemed to like to force her children to wear. The dresses that Ella had worn when she’d been a teenager had never been flattering and he knew that she’d been the butt of many jokes.
She’d been short and had had baby fat. Of course, he’d never noticed the dress. Only the woman. The girl he’d kissed, his best friend.
That baby fat had transformed into luscious curves and as he studied her sitting on the cot he couldn’t help but let his mind wander to what was under those dark blue scrubs that she wore.
Oh, God.
“Well, if it’s any consolation I think that your mother’s parties were a touch more popular than my mother’s parties ever were.”
She cocked a finely arched blonde brow. “How so?”
“Your mother’s parties were never filled with barely controlled hatred between your parents. Passive aggressive digs at infidelity.
Pinched and forced smiles. Awkward.”
Ella chuckled. “Oh, the polite fight, you mean? And they weren’t always. Before...”
“You mean before it came out my father had an affair and a secret love child?”
Ella blushed. “Yes, before that. Before Miranda. Your parents were happy.”
Zac sighed. Yeah there had been a time his parents had been happy, but it was hard to remember the way things used to be. And he wouldn’t trade Miranda for anything, but trust had been shattered after that and the family dynamic had changed.
And Zac had lost respect for his father and become ever more determined to forge his own way in this world.
“True, before that came to light they were happy.”
“My parents aren’t perfect. There have been many of those polite fights. ‘Henry, dear, perhaps you shouldn’t wear that color to the dinner, it clashes with the carpet.’ ‘Sylvia, dearest, what I’m wearing is fine, it’s all that plastic surgery affecting your eyesight.’”
They both laughed at that.
“How are our mothers friends again?” Zac teased.
“It’s called frenemies, I believe. They’re frenemies.”
“That’s it.” Then he yawned.
“Tired?”
“I didn’t sleep well last night,” he said.
“You’ve been working hard since you came on board,” she said.
“Look who’s talking.”
“True, still you really do look beat.”
“I’m fine,” he said. “Though you just came off a long shift. I really shouldn’t be complaining.”
Ella scooted over. “Come on, the floor can’t be comfortable. At least you can be slightly comfortable as we wait for our rescue.”
* * *
Ella didn’t know what she was doing. She should just leave him on the floor, but he was suffering.
A part of her was glad that he was, but it was small. It was just that vindictive part that she had. The bitter part that still remembered the humiliation he’d doled out to her.
“When are you going to pop the question to Ella Lockwood, Davenport?”