Temporary Doctor, Surprise Father. Lynne MarshallЧитать онлайн книгу.
the needle through the thick skin and out again. He made even stitches with fine braided silk, taking meticulous care to fit the jigsaw pattern of the “scalping” together. He’d divided the wound into manageable lengths, placing a suture at the halfway and quarter points to avoid “dog-ears”—unequal bites of tissue that would heal with gaps. Even without the help of the plastics department, the patient stood a good shot of healing with minimal visible scarring—as long as his hairline didn’t recede.
Once the tedious procedure of what seemed no less than fifty stitches concluded, Beck dropped the needles into the sharps container on the wall and, gathering the remaining instruments, helped Jan clean up.
“I can do this,” she said, dismissing his efforts.
“Just trying to help, January.” He wadded up the betadine-stained blue paper barrier and tossed it, like a basketball, into the nearby trash can. It landed perfectly, and Beck stared at Jan with deep-set penetrating eyes that almost made her knees buckle.
He’d matured and grown into a formidably handsome man. Muscle had thickened and replaced the lanky limbs of his youth. With his hair nearly completely shaved, his features seemed all the more chiseled and striking. The old trace of a furrowed brow had settled more deeply into the map of his forehead. Lightly etched squint lines hinted at the many sights he’d seen since his departure from her life.
He’d once had thick wavy dark hair and he’d worn it styled and gelled to perfection. He’d warn her not to mess with his do and she’d complain about how he always managed to ruin her hairstyle and then she’d run her fingers through his hair just to spite him. Typical of high-school students, they’d end their silly challenges and arguments by glaring at one another, calling each other a name, and rushing into a smoldering make-up kiss.
He’d changed dramatically, and, if possible, for the better. His sexy appeal sent chills undulating through her body. How would she survive the next month?
Deep in myriad thoughts, she spun round and bumped Beck with the kidney basin filled with antiseptic. Some spilled over the brim, splattering onto his scrub top. He held her wrists to steady her hands and she panicked.
“I told you I don’t need your help. This wouldn’t have happened if you’d just let things be,” she said, clenching her jaw.
He pried her fingers free of the basin, all the while keeping eye contact, then dipped his gloved fingertips into the solution and flicked it at close range onto her scrub top. Jerk. He strolled to the sink and poured the rest of the liquid down the drain.
“Now we’re even, January,” he said in a familiar taunting whisper. If it were only that simple. He seemed to seethe whenever he looked at her. Could she blame him?
The inebriated patient lay snoozing, oblivious to his surroundings.
The look in Beck’s eyes dared her to challenge him. He may have over a decade’s worth of questions for her, but she couldn’t allow him to become familiar with her again. There was too much at stake. She’d endured the pain alone for years and could think of no good reason to share it with him. He’d only hate her more.
“Call me Jan, please. And I’d appreciate it if you’d keep our past out of this place. No one needs to know about us.”
One brow rose slowly and he nodded, the hazel gaze muted by a cautious veil. “Still worried about your reputation, I see,” he said, before turning and leaving the room.
The patient snored and Jan wanted to scream. After thirteen years of hiding from her past, doing everything she could to respect her decision instead of loathing herself, it had finally caught up with her. Sheer reflex made her want to run into the night. But she’d prided herself in growing up and facing the toughest parts of her life head on. If spending the next month working with the father of her child—the baby she’d given up for adoption—was the price she would have to pay, she’d pay it. And at the end she’d try to do what she’d done for years—forget and move on.
* * *
Beck had seen men die before his eyes. He’d lived by his wits and survived close call after close call in battles across the globe. He’d defied his parents, who’d always thought he was too hard to handle, he’d proved his high-school principal wrong with his predictions of incarceration. Now Beck was one of the “good” guys. And where had it gotten him?
Hell, he’d given up the one person he’d ever loved for the sake of his quest for adventure. Breaking free of Atwater had meant that much to him. Nothing, he’d sworn, would hold him back from grabbing life by the tail and holding on for a wild ride. Except the “wild ride” had included pain and suffering and memories he wished to God he could get out of his head.
After all of that, how could the simple task of brushing up his medic skills throw him for such a loop?
Beck knew the reason. The task involved being near the one person who’d taught him the purest and most honest feeling he could ever hope to experience. Love. Of course, she’d been the one to rip that same feeling out of his chest and ruin it for the rest of his life. No other woman had ever gotten to know that vulnerable secret part of his soul since January Stewart. It had ruined more than his share of otherwise satisfying relationships, too.
January had ripped away any chance of trusting a woman that much again when she’d refused to wait for him. When she’d coldly broken off their relationship over the phone, and only then after he’d tried to track her down through some friends. At first he’d thought she was paying him back for leaving her and joining the army, but her decision to break up with him had gone beyond stubborn resolve or hurt. He’d never been able to pinpoint what the missing piece of the puzzle was, but in his gut he knew there was something more to their break-up. He’d given up guessing what long ago.
Beck shook his head. The new version of his first love stood right inside the Mercy Hospital emergency ward and the thought made his blood boil. She’d screwed him up beyond all recognition when she’d dumped him. He’d spent three months dreaming about her in bootcamp. Sometimes the hell he’d had to endure in training had only been bearable because of her face smiling at him in his mind. Her soft lips had teased him, “Don’t be a wuss. You can do it.” The flood of memories that her presence had released just now in the exam room was almost more than he could bear. Good thing he had been wearing gloves when he held her wrists. He wasn’t sure how he’d have reacted if they’d been skin to skin.
He shook his head and smiled ruefully. He didn’t care that she still affected him. It didn’t matter that whatever it was that had once appealed to him hadn’t faded. Her allure had only grown stronger. He wouldn’t fall for it. Never again. He’d never forgive or trust her again.
A familiar phrase his drill sergeant had repeated over and over popped into his brain, “Don’t get mad. Get even.”
Hmm. Was revenge as sweet as everyone stacked it up to be?
Beck looked up from his thoughts in time to see Gavin Riordan approaching. “Hey, great job tonight.”
“Thanks.”
“So what happened with that car chase today?”
“It’s a long story,” Beck said, scratching the back of his neck.
“The shift’s over. Why don’t you let me buy you a drink and you can tell me about it?”
Gavin was bending over backwards to help Beck avoid losing time off the job by flying back to North Carolina for his medic update. How could he refuse his request? And after his recent encounter with January, he could definitely use a drink.
“Sure thing. Where’re we going?”
“The Emergency Room.”
* * *
Jan folded her OR gown and pushed it into the dirty clothes hamper. She sat on the bench and untied her shoelaces as Carmen entered the nurses’ locker room.
“Hey, Jan. After all this nonstop action tonight, I’m having a hard