The MD's Mistress / The Money Man's Seduction: The MD's Mistress. Leslie LaFoyЧитать онлайн книгу.
don’t like grape juice,” she muttered in annoyance. Who did he think he was anyway?
Seth raised his eyebrows and observed wryly, “I see you drank all your coffee.”
“I do like coffee.” She gave him her sweetest smile. “Matter of fact, I’ve asked for a second cup.”
His gaze lingered on her lips for an extra moment. Becca was hard put not to shiver in response to the heated look she thought she saw in his eyes.
Ridiculous. She rejected the very idea. Seth Andrews giving her a heated look? Yeah, right.
“You have company.”
His remark scattered her thoughts, silly as they were. “I have company? Who?” She couldn’t imagine. Her parents had retired to a lovely retirement complex in the region around Williamsburg, Virginia. Her sister, Rachael, lived and worked in Atlanta. How would they have known she was back in the States from Africa…?
That damn newspaper article.
“Do you want to see them?”
His voice, now edged with impatience, once again broke into her thoughts.
“Yes, of course I want to see them,” she said, every bit as impatiently. “When did they arrive?”
“Yesterday.”
Yesterday? Becca frowned. “But, why didn’t I see them then?”
“You weren’t allowed company yesterday.”
“You—”
“No,” he said, cutting her off. “Not me. Pulmo nary. Dr. Inge decided you needed more time.”
Becca sighed. “The head honcho of Pulmonary.”
“I see you recall the staff here.” He smiled. As slight as it was, his smile went straight to her heart and lungs. She started coughing.
In the next instant, he was pressing the cold stethoscope against her chest. Without speaking, or asking, he lifted her up once again, this time to press the cold instrument to her back.
“Deep breaths.”
“I only swallowed the wrong way,” she lied, grabbing at the first excuse to enter her empty head.
“Uh-huh, don’t talk, deep breaths.”
Becca didn’t need to be told again; she knew he wouldn’t give up until she followed his order.
“Well?” she asked, when he lowered her back onto the bed. “It’s clear, isn’t it?”
“Yes, fortunately.”
She eyed him suspiciously. “Why…fortunately?”
“Because, if there had been the lightest hint of a rustling sound,” he answered in a stern tone, “I’d have sent your company packing until tomorrow…maybe.”
She heaved a dramatic-sounding, long-suffering sigh. “Since there wasn’t, may I see my family now? Please,” she muttered through clenched teeth.
“Sure.” With that too breezy reply, he sauntered from the room.
If Becca had had something heavy at hand, she’d have hurled it at his head.
Moments later, Seth ushered Becca’s parents and sister, Rachael, into the room. “Keep an eye on the time,” he said, before walking away.
Becca might have frowned, maybe called out a question to him, but she was caught up in being hugged by her parents and sister, hugging back while tears filled her eyes and overflowed onto her cheeks. As her mother and sister clung to her, her father stood by, holding her hand, as if to say, I’m here.
Crying, laughing, everyone spoke at once.
“How did you know…?” Becca began.
“Dr. Andrews called minutes before we saw the article in the paper,” her mother answered.
“I learned about it on the TV news, and then Mom called me,” Rachael said.
Becca was appalled. “It was on the TV news?”
“Yes.” Rachael nodded, grinning. “Prime time, both network and cable.” Her grin grew into a quick laugh. “You’re a genuine heroine.”
“But I’m not,” Becca protested. “I’m no more a heroine than any other nurse.” Her voice rose in agitation. “If I’m a heroine, then so are they!”
“Calm down, honey,” her father murmured soothingly, squeezing her hand. “Do you want us to get thrown out of here?”
Shocked by his question, Becca glanced up at him as her mother and sister released their hold and stepped back. “Thrown out?” she yelped. “What do you mean? Why would you be thrown out?”
“The good doctor warned us not to upset you,” her father said, annoyed. “As if we would deliberately do or say anything to upset you.” He stared at her, visibly concerned. “How are you feeling, honey?”
“I’m okay, really,” she quickly declared when he appeared skeptical. “I’m still a little tired, but my lungs are clear and I feel okay.”
“You look more than a little tired, Rebecca,” her mother said, frowning at her.
Becca sighed, but she had to agree. “Yeah, I know. I saw myself in a mirror for the first time this morning. I know I look like death warmed over.” And at the time, she had wondered what had prompted Seth to kiss her. She looked a mess. Oh, that’s right, she recalled. How could she forget? He kissed her to shut her up.
“Don’t even say such a thing,” he mother said, bringing Becca’s flashing thoughts to a sudden stop.
“What?” She blinked, catching up to what she had said. “Well, it’s true, I do look a sorry sight,” she defended herself, fighting a grin. She lowered her voice ominously, and said, “Like the face of death.”
“Rebecca, that is not funny.”
“No?” She gave her mother a wide-eyed, innocent look. “Then why is Dad chuckling, Rachael nearly choking on suppressed laughter, and your lips twitching?”
Her mother tried to look stern, and failed. “You always were a handful,” she said, shaking her head as in despair of her youngest.
Her father’s chuckle deepened and Rachael lost it, laughing out loud.
“And you weren’t much better,” her mother said, switching her mock stern look to Rachael.
Rachael laughed harder. Her laughter was contagious and soon her father and Becca joined in. Finally, her mother gave up trying to appear stern and laughed along with the rest of her family.
It was like old times, the four of them laughing together. They had always been a close-knit unit, and it was obvious they loved her as much as Becca loved them.
“We’ve missed you all these months, Becca,” her mother said, her eyes growing misty.
“I missed you, too,” Becca replied, feeling the sting in her own eyes.
“Are you going back?” her father asked, always the practical one.
“I’d like to.” Becca sighed. “But I really don’t believe I’ll be allowed to go.”
Rachael took her remark personally. “But…why?” she demanded. “Not that we wouldn’t miss you just as much as we did before, but I could tell from your letters and e-mails that you loved working there. Why shouldn’t you be able to go back when you’re fully recovered?”
“I’ll tell you why.” The low voice came from the doorway.
Becca didn’t need to look to see who it was. Only the sound of that one low voice could send chills skating up and down her spine.
“Why