Forever Desired: Billionaire Medical Romance (A Chance at Forever Series Book 2)

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Forever Desired: Billionaire Medical Romance (A Chance at Forever Series Book 2) Page 12

by Lexy Timms

“He doesn’t want me to work on the burn victim!” Brant enunciated every word. He didn’t realize his voice was carrying until he received a sideways look from the nurses’ station. He found himself in the main hallway, trying to figure out which way he was supposed to be heading. At this point the receptionist was ignoring him, more intent on whatever she was doing with her phone than in helping anyone.

  “Perhaps he’s concerned about a scandal, dear.”

  “Scandal?” Trust Mother to take the side of the suits. “What could be so scandalous about helping a little girl?”

  “Not the girl, dear, her doctor…oh, Brant, keep up! Have I not taught you anything growing up?”

  He groaned inwardly. Clearly not. “Well, what about her?”

  “The girl or the doctor?”

  “Ah…” Brant covered the receiver and quietly mouthed a few select curse words. “Excuse me.” He flagged down another orderly. “Where is the director’s office?” The man pointed. “Thank you.” Brant returned the phone to his ear. “He told me second right,” he mumbled.

  “No, dear, he said left. I heard him. Now, about this scandal—”

  Brant came to a stop and nearly collided with a student nurse. “Okay, I’m stopped. You have my complete attention. What scandal?”

  “Sweetie, when you told me that this young doctor was staying with you, I didn’t say anything; you’re an adult, after all.”

  “You said you were impressed.”

  “And I am, dear. She’s a very impressive young woman. Running a clinic in a jungle can’t be easy, and so I assume she isn’t either.”

  “Isn’t what?”

  “Easy.”

  “Mother!”

  “Oh, don’t be a prude. I understand that you’re a good-looking young man, with prospects and urges and all that. If you need to sow a few wild oats, as your father used to say…”

  “I hate that expression,” Brant muttered, feeling his blood pressure beginning to rise again.

  “Good, so do I. That’s fine, but you’re in the public eye even more so now with this faceless jungle girl crap I’m seeing all over the internet. You can’t drag your sordid sex life into the public spotlight.”

  “There is nothing sordid about any of this!”

  “Brant.” His mother sighed and took a deep breath. “You know better. You know why you can’t be seen having a lover. Even if it’s innocent, which you’ve admitted it’s not, there are lives other than yours in the balance. All I’m saying is that you need to use some discretion!”

  First Alice, now this. Brant stared at the phone.

  He was so not ready for this conversation.

  Besides, if he was right, he’d just spotted his man.

  “Gotta go, Mom. Call you later.” Brant closed the connection on her protests and chased after the back of a man in a suit, carrying a briefcase and looking his clothing had just been cleaned and pressed while he was wearing it. The hospital director. In the flesh.

  His phone began buzzing in his pocket. Brant found it easier to ignore this time.

  Chapter 15

  She almost didn’t see him approach. At some point Mel had gotten up off the floor, but hadn’t had the energy to go any further. So she sat on a hard-backed chair, staring at the lines in the floor that marked each tile. Tiles could be replaced one by one as needed. If there was one that was imperfect, pull it out, put a new one in. Just so simple.

  People were like that, weren’t they? If you have one that’s less than ideal, pull her out, put one in that works better. Until that one wore out. Became gray and dingy. Lost its shine.

  Her eyes slowly rose as she felt his presence.

  The anger that had driven Brent out the door seemed to have dissipated. He slowly walked back in , as though he’d lost a fight. He’d lost more than one today, he just didn’t know it. She stared at him, shoulders slumped as though carrying the weight of the world on his shoulder. It had been a long day. Dark stubble marred his chin. His eyes seemed focused on something a million miles away.

  Even still, he was handsome. Charming. Smart.

  Mel dropped her gaze; she suddenly couldn’t look at him.

  “Well, that didn’t end up like I’d planned,” he said, sinking down in the chair next to her.

  Why did he have to be so close? She could smell him, that scent that was uniquely his. Sweat and aftershave, and whatever it was that made a man smell so damn appealing. That made this man smell so darn appealing.

  “No.” She took a deep breath. Let herself have just that, despite the ache that lay so deep within her chest that it was a wonder she could breathe at all. “No, there’s a lot of that going on right now. Things seem to be taking a turn for the worse when you least expect them to.” She watched him as she spoke, wondering if he knew that she knew.

  He gave her a sharp look. “What do you mean?”

  “I mean,” she slapped her palms on her thighs and pushed herself to her feet, “I brought an innocent 12-year-old girl into the spotlight of the latest freak show, and all I can do is watch while she’s stripped and made to perform. To preserve her dignity, it seems as though I must quit my job. Of course, by doing so, I have no right to be her guardian, and therefore no right to be with her. And thus no longer having any say in protecting her dignity.”

  Brant stared at her, baffled. She could see the pain in his eyes as he worked out the ramifications. “So, you’re left with no way to get the DI director off her back?”

  “I might have one. It would be cruel, and it might even hurt other people—a lot of other people.”

  He was silent a moment. She could have sworn he flinched. “What do you have in mind?” His voice was raspy, unsure.

  “I don’t know…” Mel smiled down at him, feeling the ache grow. Blinking hard to hold back the tears. “I hate to do it. I would hate to hurt someone that deeply. I know what it feels like, you know?”

  Brant’s expression spoke volumes. He was searching her face for clues. It was as though he knew there was sub-context he was missing. He probably did. He was smart—smarter than her. Too damn smart for his own good.

  Figure it out. Figure it out and don’t make me say it…

  Mel half-turned. Looked out the window at waving palm trees and wondered how long it was until dark. It felt like she’d lived a thousand years in this day, and couldn’t understand why it wasn’t over yet.

  “What did the director say?” Mel asked, wanting to change the subject. “Jayla stopped by, let me know what was going on. Did you find him?”

  “I did,” Brant said. “He was somewhat unapologetic. Rather a disagreeable fellow all in all.” He went silent again. When she glanced over she saw him staring at his hands, clenching and unclenching his fingers. “I… I may have to find someone else to do the surgery.”

  For a moment Mel forgot she was supposed to be sad…angry…whatever. She sank down into the hard plastic chair next to him, so that she could see his face. “What the hell happened? What did you do?”

  His head shot up. “Apparently, I don’t have permissions at this hospital.”

  For some reason, Mel wanted to laugh. In fact, she did, throwing her head back until it met the wall behind her with a loud clunk. Then laughed painfully. “This is the place you insisted on, the place you said was safe and secure!” She was almost howling; the whole thing was just so damn stupidly funny. Okay, maybe she was hysterical, but after everything they’d just gone through it was going to end like this? Here?

  “This is the hospital I’ve been working with for the past six years. How was I supposed to know they were going to stab me in the back?” Brant shot back. This time it was he who shot to his feet and started pacing. She watched him as he moved back and forth, a caged animal, imprisoned in the jungle of his own making.

  Suddenly it wasn’t funny anymore. Maybe it was telling how quickly everything fell apart. Yesterday, Mel had been fighting butterflies, anxious about seeing him again, nervous about being in his world. Now s
he wanted to run away, back to the jungle where she was in charge and things made sense.

  Mel put a hand over her mouth to hold back a sob.

  Yet Brant was still staring her down, hurt and angry, as though she were the one at fault. As though she’d done something wrong in snapping at him. She jumped to her feet. Angry enough to forget the tears. She’d had plenty to say before he’d shown up. Had already had her heart broken. Enough. She’d had enough.

  “Six years? So what? Isn’t all this just another empty promise? Another well-intentioned, impossible dream that you can’t fulfill? What are you saying, Brant? What’re you going to tell that little girl, who’s already been verbally assaulted, and is in there crying over her late father?”

  “It’s not…” Brant began, pale and angry. He drew himself up, but she wasn’t about to let him defend himself. Not now.

  “No? It seems to me that you’re rather fond of…”

  “I don’t have hospital privileges!” The words echoed off the walls around them and shattered, hitting the floor in an explosion of shards that tore and damaged all within hearing. “Without the practice I have no rights to be in this hospital at all, except as a visitor. The agreement was with the practice, not with me personally!”

  “Oh, that’s perfect,” Mel said through a sudden thickness in her throat. “Just perfect. What do you want to do now? Send her home? Remove the embarrassment? Pretend like none of this ever happened?”

  “What the hell are you talking about?” Brant stared at her, lips compressed in a tight line. Furious.

  Mel only felt tired. Tired and worn out. I don’t want to fight anymore. “You make a lot of promises, Brant,” she whispered finally. “To a lot of people.” She handed him her phone.

  He looked down at the display.

  Mel already knew what was on the screen.

  GOOD SAMARITAIN SURGEON ENGAGED TO RISING STARLET

  Brant Layton, the highly-acclaimed surgeon who is restoring the face of the #JungleGirl, has been identified by inside sources as being engaged to rising starlet, Gloria Shaffer.

  Sources close to the couple have been tracking their romance since these two were children, and say this is no surprise to anyone. Both come from Hollywood royalty and have been sweethearts from their days playing together on studio backlots. When will wedding bells ring? All signs point to later this summer.

  Ms. Shaffer is currently starring in Naked and Afraid, coming to theatres next July. Industry insiders have pegged her for the…

  Mel forget what the article said after that.

  “Oh,” Brant said. “That.”

  “Oh, that?” Mel choked out something between and laugh and sob. “Yeah, that is pretty important, don’t you think? You kind of left that out when you were FUCKING me!”

  Brant threw up his hands. “It’s not like that. We’re not technically engaged…”

  “TECHNICALLY?” It was all she could do to keep from slapping the man. “TECHNICALLY? What the hell is that supposed to mean? What, like it was an accident? Are you going to be ‘technically’ married?”

  “Look,” Brant said, grabbing her arm. “There’s nothing between me and Gloria. Our parents had this stupid betrothal thing when we were children.”

  “There’s pictures of the two of you!” Mel wailed. “Red carpet, vacations, hand in hand. Please stop lying to me!” She grabbed at her phone, opening tabs, flinging it at him to see. Brant and the most beautiful blonde she’d ever seen, at red carpet galas, arm in arm. Laughing together. Intimate. Beautiful. The perfect couple.

  “I’m not lying! There’s nothing between us; she’s a sister to me, no more.”

  “A sister. You sit with your sister like that?” She stopped on a picture taken at some restaurant, Gloria’s head on Brant’s shoulder, her perfect golden hair cascading down in gentle waves. Brant leaning in, laughing, touching her chin. Looking for all the world like they were about to kiss.

  “No more.” Mel snatched the phone back. Hit the button to make the screen go dark so she wouldn’t have to see it anymore. “No more.”

  “Mel…”

  Whatever he was going to say, she didn’t want to hear it. The heartache she’d been feeling all afternoon was nothing compared to what she felt now that the words were said. Maybe deep down she’d been expecting him to somehow make all this right. He would laugh it off. Have a reasonable explanation. Even some mildly unreasonable explanation. Even if he’d said that she’d been his girlfriend but wasn’t anymore.

  But he hadn’t. He hadn’t done any of those things.

  And so the silence had spoken She stared at him a long moment, and when she couldn’t find the words for goodbye after all she ran through the hallway. Did Brant start after her? Did someone stop him? She couldn’t be sure. She couldn’t see anything at all. The tears welled, despite all her commands to her body that he wasn’t worth crying over, and the entire world was underwater.

  She called up the Uber app. She was getting good at using it.

  Then, when the driver got there, she curled up in a ball on the backseat and returned to the mansion to get the things that were there. Her dignity wasn’t one of them.

  Then she would go.

  And go…

  And go…

  Kenneth wouldn’t take her back, not now. She’d closed her clinic behind her, burning that particular bridge and calling an end to the last several years of her life. She’d just lost everything she’d ever built, everything she’d ever fought for.

  And now she had nothing. She’d even run from Maria. And at this moment, she didn’t care. She was a horrible person.

  What am I supposed to do?

  The tiny, still voice within her cried out, terrified. The world looked too big. She didn’t know how to live in it anymore.

  Where do I go?

  Night had fallen. Streetlights were coming on. LED lights replacing neon, making the streets no less garish as the car traveled through streets she’d only ever heard about in the movies. Hollywood Boulevard. Vine. Wasn’t this the city of stars?

  Let them have it.

  She’d go somewhere else.

  Anywhere.

  Anywhere but here.

  Chapter 16

  Tires squealed as Brant took the turn hard. He lurched to a stop when he reached his driveway. Never in his life had he treated a car as badly as he’d treated this one on the way home from the hospital. He’d been a maniac on the expressway, but stood in good company, keeping the evening commute interesting at any rate for any who crossed his path. At least he hadn’t caused any accidents, but the guilt was there, letting the one rule he’d prided himself on about driving safely be thrown so easily, so casually, under the tires of his BMW.

  The delay had been important, but damn it, too much was happening at once. He shouldn’t have let her leave the hospital like that. He slammed down the phone as the house loomed up in front of him. Mel obviously had hers off. And the other calls he’d needed to make were done, accomplished on the drive back.

  There was an unfamiliar Jeep in the driveway. A young man leaned against the passenger door. The door to the mansion stood open.

  Brant’s phone rang. His mother. Again.

  He parked the car at an angle, screeched to a stop, taking it all in with one glance. He jumped out of the car and jogged to the open door.

  “Who’re you?” Brant pointed at the young man.

  “Dude, that was some awesome driving. Nice drift!”

  “What? Who the hell are you?” He turned his attention to Mel, who was coming out the door dragging her suitcase. “Who is this?”

  “I only took my things,” Mel said in passing. “Maria’s suitcase is still inside. I trust you can handle getting her home? Hopefully your removal from your partnership won’t interfere with your ability to make plane reservations.”

  “Where the he—where are you going?” Brant demanded, trying to block her way, but she sidestepped him neatly, handing off her suitcase to the young
guy. The man bowed comically, with exaggerated servitude, before lugging it over to the back of the Jeep and hoisting it in.

  “Who is this idiot?” Brant pointed to guy again.

  “My new boyfriend!” Mel shot back and grabbed the young man as he turned, one hand on each side of his face, pulling him in to lock lips with as much passion as she’d shown him only last night. “We’re not technically engaged, though, so it’s all right!”

  “Damn it, Mel! It’s not like that!”

  “Yes, it is!” Mel shot back, and grabbed the startled youth once again to prove her point. The guy gave Brant a weak thumb’s up and surrendered himself to her embrace, with a look that could only be described as pure bliss.

  “Listen to me!” Brant reached over and caught her wrist, pulling her out of what was fast becoming an embrace that would have been embarrassing to witness had he not just been personally involved with one of the…er…combatants.

  “Let. Go. Of. Me.” Mel’s eyes were pure fire in the light from the open doorway.

  “Dude, uh, let go of the lady, all right?” The Jeep driver stepped up, awkward and brave and stupid.

  How old is this kid? Is he even legal drinking—shit, driving—age? “Who the hell are you?” Brant roared, out of patience.

  “LET GO OF ME!” Mel ripped her hand free of his grasp. She ran back into the house.

  “Not cool, man,” the guy said over the top of his sunglasses. Who the hell wore sunglasses at night?

  “WHO ARE YOU?!” Brant stared at him as he just waggled his eyebrows. Brant gave a strangled cry as he tore into the house, needing to find and somehow convince the only woman he had ever loved, to stay.

  “Where are you going to go?” Brant demanded as he caught up with her in the hallway outside their—his room. “Back to the jungle?”

  “There something wrong with that?” Mel cried as she pushed past him and grabbed a carry-on that had been sitting on the bed. She shoved clothing into the bottom of a bag so roughly Brant expected to see her fist come through the bottom. “Something wrong with my life’s work that I threw away on some stupid, damn, ‘noble’ idea? Something not good enough for your L.A. privileges to be seen with a jungle doctor? Well, don’t worry; I’m not a jungle doctor anymore!”

 

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