Saved By Doctor Dreamy. Dianne DrakeЧитать онлайн книгу.
for you to figure out. Which, I’m sure, will happen in time.”
“There’s nothing to figure out. I accepted a position that brings first-rate medical professionals here. It’s an honorable job and I like it. It’s...important.”
“I’m not saying that it’s not. With the need to improve medical conditions expanding, I’m sure it’s becoming a very important position. But is it important enough to you? Or is patient care more important?”
“Why can’t both be important to me?”
“In my experience, I’ve found that we poor mortals don’t always do a good job of dividing ourselves.”
“That’s assuming I’m divided.”
“Well, I suppose only you know if that’s the case.” Damien stepped away from the bed. “Anyway, your patient will be here shortly, so I’d suggest you figure out some way to expedite those bedsheets so you can go be a real doctor.” With that, he spun around and started walking away.
“Are you always so rude?” she asked him while he was still within earshot. He was not only rude, he was also nosy, presumptuous and out of line.
Damien stopped and turned back to face her. “I do it rather well, don’t you think?”
* * *
Struggling with simple bedsheets, the way she was doing right now, was almost cute. It was painfully obvious, though, that this was a chore far beyond her capabilities. Or one she’d never before practiced. Which reminded Damien of days gone by, and one of the reasons he was here in the jungle, hiding away from civilization. Juliette was obviously a rich girl, probably out on her own in the world for the very first time and, once upon a time, he’d almost married a rich girl who probably still wasn’t out in the world.
Spoiled was the word that always came to mind when he thought about Nancy. It was a word he wanted to apply to Juliette as well, but the determination he could see in her stopped him short of going that far. The fact was, Nancy would have never set foot in his jungle clinic and Juliette was here, fighting to make a difference. Which didn’t exactly fit his perception of a rich girl.
OK, he had a bias. He admitted it. Hated that he’d just shown a bit of it to Juliette, by raising the doubt that she could cut it here. But it was well deserved, considering how he’d endured months of spoiled behavior from a woman he’d planned on marrying. Not that Nancy had ever played spoiled rich girl when it was just the two of them. No, she’d been sweet and attentive, convincing him she was the one to settle down for. Or in Juliette’s case, she was the one he needed here to help him.
But in the end, Nancy had told him he could never be enough for her. He couldn’t give her enough, as her demands had grown larger. More time. More attention. More of everything. He’d tried. He’d honestly tried. Bought her everything she wanted, which put him into deep debt. Cut back his hours at the hospital to spend more time with her, which almost cost him his job. No matter what he’d done, though, it hadn’t been adequate. So he’d tried harder, and always failed.
As far as Juliette working here—could that be enough for her? Or was he overthinking this thing? Truth was, he was wary. With Nancy, the vicious circle he’d got himself trapped in had played against his self-esteem and it hadn’t helped when her parents told him that he’d always be struggling, that he’d never have enough to give her what she deserved. Things. Lots and lots of material things. And social status. Even with his surgeon’s salary and his position at the hospital, and all the awards he’d won, they were right. At least, he’d thought so at the time.
Anyway, she’d moved out of his apartment and gone home, straight into Mommy’s and Daddy’s arms. As far as he knew, two years later, she was still there, dwelling quite happily as their spoiled-rotten daughter. Probably waiting for Daddy to fix her up with a man who fit the family image. A man who could give her the things Damien could not.
Which, admittedly, stung. He’d reeled from the breakup for weeks, wondering what he could have done differently. Wondering why he’d thought he was good enough for Nancy when, obviously, he was not. Wondering why he’d chosen Nancy in the first place.
So, was Juliette that spoiled? Would she spend a day or an entire weekend here, only to discover that it wasn’t enough for her? Would she walk away when she realized he couldn’t give her proper bedsheets, let alone a proper bed? Bottom line—he needed her here. Recruits didn’t come knocking every day when he advertised. And when they did show up, they usually turned right back around and left. In fact, other than George Perkins, she’d been the first doctor in his entire year here to show any real interest in staying. And he needed her skills. But could he count on her coming through, the way he’d counted on Nancy before she’d let him down?
He didn’t know, couldn’t tell. Juliette was obviously of upper means and, yes, that did have a huge bearing on the way he was feeling so uneasy about her motives or dedication. But there was also something about her that caused him to believe that her upper means hadn’t knocked something basic out of her. She was a hard worker and, so far, she hadn’t complained about the menial tasks. Time would tell what she was really made of, he supposed. For now, he was simply trying to keep an open mind. Because for some reason other than his need of her medical skills, a reason he couldn’t quite put his finger on, he wanted her to stay. Maybe for a change of scenery? Or to break the monotony? He honestly didn’t know.
“You’ve only got just the one exam room in the clinic?” Juliette asked him, once all the beds were made.
“The clinic was originally my living quarters. One room for everything. But I built a divider so there would be a waiting room on one side and an exam room on the other. That’s all there was room for.”
“Then where do you sleep?” she asked him.
“In a hut next door. Another one-room setup. Not as nice as the hospital, though.”
Juliette cringed. “I hate to ask, but where will I stay when I’m here?”
Ah, yes. The first test. No sheets, no bed—no room of her own. This is where it began, he supposed. Or ended. “Well, I’ve got two choices. You could stay here in the hospital, use an empty bed and hope we don’t get so busy you’ll have to give it up. We’ll partition it off for you to give you some privacy. And the perk there is that the hospital has running water, a shower, a bathroom. Or, if you don’t like that idea, you can shack with me. And the drawbacks there are—I don’t have running water, don’t have a bathroom or a shower. I have to come into the hospital for all that. Oh, and rumor has it that I might snore.” He cringed, waiting for what he believed would be the inevitable.
“So if I choose your hut, I’d be what? Sleeping in bed with you?”
“No, I’m a little more gentlemanly than that. I’d give you the bed, and I’d take the floor.” Said with some forced humor, since humor was all he had to offer at the moment.
“But in the same room?”
“Kind of like the student years, when you’d crash in the on-call room, no matter who was sleeping next to you. You did sleep in an on-call, didn’t you?” Somehow, he could picture Juliette as the type who would lock the on-call door behind her and keep the room all to herself.
“I did,” she said hesitantly. “When I had to.”
“So let me guess. You didn’t like it.”
“It was necessary, when I was pulling twenty-four-hour shifts. But did I like it? Not particularly.”
“How did I know that?” he asked, still waiting for the curtain to fall on this little act he was putting on. Who was he kidding here? Girls accustomed to silk sheets liked silk. And he sure as hell didn’t have anything silk.
“You didn’t know that,” she said, expelling an exasperated sigh. “You’re just into making snap judgments about me. All of them negative. Do you ever see anything positive in any situation, Damien?”
Maybe