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Melting The Ice Queen's Heart. Amy RuttanЧитать онлайн книгу.

Melting The Ice Queen's Heart - Amy Ruttan


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had to tell Mrs. Jones her husband, who’d sustained severe crush injuries in a car accident, was going to be okay.

      All thanks to his minor indiscretion over the chest tube insertion in front of the board.

      Only he wouldn’t get any thanks. From Mrs. Jones, yes, but from the people who ran this place, no.

      It would be another slap on the wrist. Potter would tell him again how he was skating on thin ice with the board of directors.

      It would take all his strength not to quit. Only he couldn’t.

      No other hospital in San Francisco was hiring or had been interested in him. He didn’t have a flashy CV after working as a field surgeon for Border Free Physicians.

      He didn’t make the covers of medical journals or have some great research to tempt another hospital with.

      All he had were his two hands and his surgical abilities.

      Those two hands had saved a man today, but that wasn’t good enough for the board. The bottom line was the only thing that mattered and it made him furious.

      If it wasn’t for the girls, he’d quit.

      He couldn’t uproot them. He wouldn’t do that to them, he wouldn’t have them suffer the same life he and Casey had endured as army brats, moving from pillar to post, never making friends and having absentee parents who had both been in the service.

      Although he understood his parents now. He respected them for serving their country and doing their duty. He lived by the same code, only he wasn’t going to raise a family living out of a backpack, and because he loved his life and his work he’d never planned on settling down.

      He planned to die doing what he loved. Like his father had done.

      Working until he’d dropped.

      Of course, that had all changed seven months ago when Casey had called him.

      Casey wanted stability for her girls and that’s exactly what Gavin was going to give them.

      Stability.

      He picked up Mr. Jones’s chart and headed towards the waiting room.

      Virginia could wait a few moments more and he’d smooth things over with the board. Mrs. Jones, however, wouldn’t wait a second more.

       CHAPTER TWO

      HE’S GOOD PR for the hospital.

      Virginia felt like she was running out of ways to praise Dr. Gavin Brice to the board of directors. None of them were physicians.

      None of them understood medicine.

      And because none of the board understood medicine she constantly had to explain to them the actions of Dr. Brice; just like she’d done for the past hour.

      Virginia rubbed her temples, trying to will away the nagging headache that gnawed her just behind her eyes.

      It’d been grueling, but she’d managed to smooth things over. By again reminding them of Dr. Brice’s phenomenal survival rate. It was probably that way because of the unorthodox techniques he used.

      Of course, what was the point when the head of the board seemed so keen to shut down the hospital’s emergency department and make Bayview Grace a private hospital? Private meant only for the wealthy.

      And catering only to the wealthy made her sick.

      When she’d first decided to become a doctor she hadn’t just want to help those who could afford it. It was one of the reasons she’d chosen Bayview to do her intern and residency years. Bayview, back then, had had a fantastic pro bono fund and a free clinic.

      The free clinic had been closed two years ago when she’d done her boards. When she’d become chief she’d tried to get it back, but that would have meant dipping into the pro bono money and that money had been needed.

      Mr. Schultz had feigned regret, but Virginia had seen those dollar signs flashing in his eyes. It made her feel a bit sick.

      Her stomach knotted as she thought about the countless people from all walks of life who came to her hospital. The pro bono budget was dwindling and she wished she could help more, because at one time in her life she’d been in the poorest of the poor’s shoes, getting by on only sub-par medical care.

      It was why her sister Shyanne had died.

      Shyanne had hidden her pregnancy from her parents, knowing they couldn’t afford to help her with medical bills, but the pregnancy had turned out to be ectopic. Virginia had happened to be home on a school break in her first year of medical school and had kicked herself for not seeing the signs early enough.

      By the time the ambulance had come to take Shyanne to the hospital, she was gone. Ruptured fallopian tube. She’d bled out too fast.

      It was one reason why Virginia donated so much time to the pro bono cases, why she didn’t want Bayview’s ER closed, like the free clinic had been closed.

      There was a knock on her office door, but before she could answer the man in question swaggered into the room and she had to remember herself. She had to control the flush that was threatening to creep up her neck and erupt in crimson blooms in her cheeks.

      It was a damn pain in the rump that she was basically his boss and that he was so devilishly sexy. Reddish-gold hair, green eyes like emeralds. Even the scar on his cheek, which just grazed that deep, deep dimple, made the young woman she’d buried under her businesslike façade squeal just a little bit. He was the quintessential bad boy and she’d always had a soft spot for bad boys. Even though her mother had warned her not to give them the time of day.

      Virginia and Shyanne had listened. Shyanne had got involved with a good boy. One who had been a golden son of De Smet, South Dakota. A golden son who had knocked Shyanne up and taken off on a football scholarship, leaving Shyanne in the lurch.

      “You wanted to see me, Dr. Potter?”

      “Yes. Please, take a seat.” Pulling at the collar of her blouse, she motioned to the seat in front of her desk. When he moved closer she caught a whiff of his scent. A clean scent of something spicy but rugged and the smell made her insides flutter. With a calming breath she folded her hands neatly in front of her on her blotter. “The board has asked me to speak with you.”

      A brief smile quirked on his lips as he sat down. “Again?”

      “Yes. Are you surprised?”

      “Not really.I did happen to catch the expression of some of those investors today.”

      “You think it’s funny?”

      Gavin cocked his head to one side. “A bit.”

      Virginia bit her lip and silently counted to ten. “I managed to smooth things over.”

      He rolled his eyes. “Look, can I lay something out for you, Dr. Potter?”

      She was stunned. “Of course, by all means.”

      “I don’t care what the board approves or disapproves of. I don’t care if they think the way I practice medicine is barbaric.”

      “I don’t think they actually said barbaric, Dr. Brice.”

      He grinned. “Please, call me Gavin.”

      Virginia swallowed the lump in her throat. It was the first time since they’d met that he’d asked her to use his first name. Not that they’d had much social interaction, besides work-related conversations, and these seemingly frequent discussions about the board and his disregard for following hospital policies.

      “Gavin, if you’re unhappy, perhaps there’s something we can do, or I can do, to make your practice here better?”

      “There’s


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