Tempted By The Brooding Surgeon

CHAPTER TWO

DAWN CREPT MISTILY across the mountains as Daniel stepped outside the hotel where the medical team was staying, sipping hot coffee obtained from the large urn in the foyer. He savored the taste of it on his tongue, letting the flavor of the locally grown arabica linger there, along with memories of his childhood. He and his brother had always loved the stuff, and he smiled, remembering sending Gabriel to sneak into the kitchen in the morning to pour both of them a cup, heaping them with cream and sugar.

Daniel had been more of a rule follower than his twin, but when it had been to his benefit, he’d been happy to take advantage of his brother’s mischievous, more daring nature. Sometimes that had involved sports and adventures, sometimes it had been stealing desserts or coffee or other things they weren’t supposed to have, straight from under their nanny’s or parents’ noses.

He took another swig of the hot brew. Straight black was the way he liked it now, giving him a much-needed caffeine jolt after having worked late into the night before getting busy making phone calls to acquaintances at various hospitals who might know of an accomplished anesthesiologist who’d be available and willing to work at the mission hospital for the next two weeks.

With any luck one of the people recommended would be willing to take over Annabelle Richards’s small shoes. He knew she’d be furious and, to his complete surprise, a niggle of discomfort over his phone calls briefly poked at him, knowing she’d given her vacation time to this trek and gone through a lot of effort to get here against the odds. There was also the undeniable fact that throughout yesterday’s surgeries she’d been utterly competent and professional.

But that didn’t mean that she always would be. He had no idea if she’d grown as a doctor, and he reminded himself, again, that it was critical to have only the best anesthesiologist available for the kinds of complicated heart surgeries they performed here.

But maybe there was some compromise to be found. Maybe he should suggest she work in a different mission while she was in Peru, rather than sending her back to the United States when he found a replacement. There were several clinics in poor parts of the country that were only occasionally open to patients. Clinics that did far less complicated surgeries than he’d be doing. Surgeries that didn’t take six or eight hours to accomplish, and weren’t life-threatening. She could handle those kinds of things, he knew. And any local doctor without much in the way of staff would welcome her help.

It was a good plan. And maybe part of the reason it sounded good to him was because he couldn’t deny that, despite having very valid reasons, seeing anger and maybe hurt in those blue eyes that could quickly turn from warm and friendly to icy disdain in a single blink wasn’t something he looked forward to. Maybe knowing another clinic needed her would make her happy to go there instead.

Impatient with himself and the odd mental discomfort he felt, Daniel looked out towards the mountains in the distance, pondering how he could get Dr. Richards moved to another clinic, when a movement nearby caught his attention. As though he’d conjured her from the shadowy mist, Annabelle came out of the hotel doors, her pale hair shimmering through the mist much the way the moon was, still hanging low in the slowly lightening sky.

Surprised that she’d be up so early after her botched travels and long work day, he took in the light pink robe she wore, cinched close at the waist and emphasizing her large breasts and the roundness of her hips. Her legs, bare and shapely, seemed longer than when she wore scrubs. Both hands were wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, and the way she breathed in the scent, closed her eyes as she took a sip, and tipped her head back as it slid down her throat, made his heart give a little kick. A small smile tipped her soft-looking lips. His entire body reacted to the utter sensuous pleasure on the woman’s face.

This was how she’d look making love. Pleasured, satisfied, wanting more. And he wanted to give it to her. Wanted to walk over, kiss her and open up that robe to slide his hands inside to feel her soft skin, caress all those curves.

Damn. Where had all that come from? Somehow, he forced himself to look away and take a big gulp of his own coffee. His chest burned, but he wasn’t sure it was from the drink. Thinking of her in that way was all kinds of wrong when they were working together, even if it ended up being for only a short time.

Daniel didn’t know whether to try to skulk deeper into the shadows until she went back inside or make some noise to let her know he was out here. He decided the first was cowardly and weak, and since he tried to never be either of those things, he took a few steps toward her.

“I see you need coffee to get going in the morning as much as I do.”

She swung to stare at him, surprise touching her face before it settled into a frown. The pleasure replaced by annoyance. “I like coffee, but I don’t need it to get going.”

“Energetic the second you leap from bed? Lucky you.”

“Not exactly, but I do other things to wake myself up.”

“Now you’ve intrigued me.” Which was an understatement, as several completely inappropriate thoughts lunged into his head. “What things?”

“I’m always amazed at how beautiful it is up here,” she said, ignoring his question to look out over the vista in front of them. “You’re from Peru originally, aren’t you? How did you end up in Philadelphia?”

He let his gaze follow hers to the mountains and the golden rays illuminating their peaks. “This was home for us until I was ten years old. Still is a part of me, I guess. We lived in a more urban area, which was, and is, beautiful in its own way. But the government became corrupt, and rival terror groups wreaked havoc on the entire country. The political unrest and economic mess finally forced my parents to move to the US, taking some of the family business interests with them.”

“I’d heard about the political troubles, but it’s much better now, isn’t it?”

“Yes, thank God. My grandparents stayed, and there were a number of years that we worried about their safety. But the government and economy are both good now, and businesses are thriving. The quality of life is good, too, for many. But that can’t be said for everyone here, as you already know.”

“Why is that?” As soon as she said it, her lips twisted. “Never mind. The same question can be asked about the US and plenty of other places. Why there are those who have a lot and others who don’t.”

It seemed her blue eyes shadowed at that, and he nodded. “Yes. The stark contrasts that exist here are part of the wonder of Peru, and part of its shame. Until I moved away, I took for granted the huge and interesting differences between the arid coastline and deep rainforests. Snow-covered mountains and the fertile valleys that grow so many fruits and vegetables, sugarcane and coffee. Gold and silver mines are a big part of the economy, too, and I’m sure you’ve seen our famous and unique fabric arts. So much to love about this place, and for tourists to enjoy.”

“Do the indigenous people resent the tourists showing up at Machu Picchu and their villages, or do they appreciate the tourist trade? The foreigners buying the gorgeous woven clothes and blankets?”

“I assume they’re glad to sell their wares and to make money that way, but don’t know for sure. I haven’t really talked to patients’ families about that—guess I should.” Interesting that she’d asked that question, when he hadn’t really thought about it at all. “Peruvians have a deep history with so many ancient cultures and widely diverse ethnicities. There’s also a sharp divide between the wealthy elite, like my own family, and the extremely poor that I’m committed to take care of.”

“So you’re one of the wealthy elite? Somehow that doesn’t surprise me.”

The way she said it, with a slight scowl creasing her brow, showed she wasn’t the least impressed by his background. “I am blessed in that way, yes. But it doesn’t blind me to the problems here. To the atrocious wall in Lima that runs between shantytowns on one side of the mountain and large homes with every amenity on the other.”

“The wall of shame. It’s awful.” She scrunched up her face in a way that would have been beyond cute if the subject weren’t so serious. “But even though that kind of divide isn’t as physically obvious up here and in other places in the world, the gap is still pretty big. I mean, look at this place.”

He didn’t have to follow the wave of her hand to know what she meant. “True. Sometimes I feel guilty to be staying in this kind of modern hotel, knowing that, close by, some of the families we take care of don’t have running water or electricity.”

“Me, too. But does it make me a horrible person that I’m glad to be able to stay here anyway? I’ve worked in places that didn’t have running water and had generators that only provided electricity part of the day, but I can’t lie. I appreciate knowing I can at least take a shower and that’s what keeps bringing me back to stay more often when I’m working here.”

He had to smile at her earnest expression, as though she felt she really should feel guilty about that. “No, it doesn’t make you a horrible person. It makes you someone from the Western world, and we’re all spoiled by having a light switch we can just turn on, aren’t we?”

“Yeah. If the electric bill’s been paid,” she murmured, before sending him a slightly strained smile. “Anyway, I think I’ll get going on my morning routine then take advantage of that shower before work.”

“Surgery doesn’t start for another couple of hours. Why are you up so early, after having so little sleep because you had to bring that monitor?”

That earned him a narrow-eyed stare, and he mentally smacked himself for bringing it up again. And why had he? He’d been thinking about the gray smudges beneath her pretty eyes, wishing she’d go back to bed for a while so she’d feel refreshed. Not about the stupid monitor or her lateness.

“I’m always up early. It’s important to get mentally centered before taking on the tasks of the day.”

“What do you do to get mentally centered?”

“Meditation. Yoga. I know...” She held up her hand. “Someone like you is probably thinking I don’t have a yoga body, but a person doesn’t have to be thin to do healthy stretching, you know.”

Her words sent his gaze back to her tantalizing figure in that robe and he had to yank it away before she saw him staring. “Someone like me?”

“Yes. A person who thinks it’s his right to judge and criticize others. How they do their job. Where they come from or what they wear. Mostly, it’s obvious you usually decide that pretty much everyone on your medical teams come up short, undeserving of breathing the same rarefied air as you.”

“You have me all wrong.” Inexplicably, her words stung, even as he felt confused as to why she was saying some of it. “I don’t judge people. Didn’t we just have a conversation about how much I care about the have-nots who live here? As for my medical teams, I demand the best for my patients. That was the only thing on my mind five years ago, since that’s clearly what you’re talking about here.”

“I want the best for my patients, too. Except I don’t throw other people under the bus, even when they make a mistake or could do something better. I give them a second chance, and try to help them along the way.”

“Some patients never get a second chance.” The words came out more sharply than he’d intended as memories of Gabriel squeezed his chest. “Which is why I insist on working with only the most qualified people, instead of pandering to anyone’s ego.”

“Well, anyone who could keep their ego intact around you must be made of steel. And it seems to me that maybe you’re the one with the ego problem. Hotshot cardiac surgeon from a wealthy family. A guy with a God complex who thinks he’s better than everyone else.”

“I have many colleagues who ask to work with me, and if that’s because they think I’m one of the best surgeons around, I’m happy about that. If you call that a big ego, so be it.”

She took a swig of coffee and shrugged. “I call it like I see it.”

He took a step closer, his chest burning at her unexpected attack, and after they’d had such a friendly conversation, too. “Maybe the truth is you have a plenty big ego yourself. Attractive enough to land a job in a prestigious hospital. Beautiful enough to have hospital higher-ups go to bat for you, even when you mess up.”

She gasped, taking two big steps forward to jab her finger into his chest, her eyes flashing with blue fury. “That’s just insulting, and if I were a man you wouldn’t dare say something like that to me. I’m not going to stand here and defend myself, because I couldn’t care less what you think about me, other than you have to trust me to do a good job here. You believe what you want about anything else, but I know what I’m doing, and I got my job through hard work and nothing else. You’re stuck working with me and I’m stuck working with you for the next two weeks. We have children to heal and lives to save, and that’s the only thing that’s important to me. So get over yourself and deal with it.”

She swung around and marched to the door. Coffee sloshed from her cup and onto her pink sleeve, trickling to the ground, but she just kept going without another look back.

Daniel blew out a slow breath as he watched the sexy sway of her backside disappear through the door. How had he lost control of that conversation, and why had he let her goad him into verbalizing his questions about why some of the hospital administrators had argued to keep her on?

Normally, he was a man who could hold his thoughts, but there was something about her that got under his skin. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he’d felt so frustrated at her words, and at the same time he’d been mesmerized by her lips as they’d moved, that the comments about her beauty helping her get her job had just fallen out of his mouth, even as he’d known he shouldn’t say anything. Even as he’d spoken, a part of him had wanted to reach for her, grasp her shoulders, and pull her against him. Wanted to drop his mouth to hers to keep her from lambasting him. Wanted to sip the coffee from her lips, experience the taste of her that he knew would be sweeter than the sugar in her drink.

And wouldn’t that have been a giant mistake? What the hell was wrong with him?

He rubbed his hand down his face. The number one priority in dealing with her just became being careful to speak to her, and react to her, with only the utmost professionalism. How ironic would it be for her to lodge a complaint against him about his conduct on this medical mission?

A brisk walk might help him get his equilibrium back. And maybe it was time for him to learn to do a little meditation himself, to purge his brain of any and all peculiar and troubling thoughts about Annabelle Richards.

* * *

Another long day of surgeries left Daniel with an aching back and a sense of satisfaction. The hours spent were worth a little discomfort, since repairing holes in children’s small hearts or addressing hypoplastic left heart syndrome and other critical heart malformations was exactly why he did these missions.

The whole team had worked tirelessly along with him, including Annabelle. He couldn’t deny that she’d shown herself to be a steady hand with the anesthesia, communicating well with the nurses and bringing what he’d learned was her special brand of charm to the young patients. She might not speak very good Spanish but at least she tried, and knew how to deal with their patients in a way that calmed even the most nervous. Her wide smile, and the way she used tiny fairy and superhero dolls as props to leap gently onto their little arms and bodies, distracting them from the medical preparation happening around them, always made them relax and laugh before she got down to the serious business of getting them to sleep for surgery.

Maybe she really had grown as a doctor over the past five years, after the anesthesia resident’s nearly catastrophic error and her mistake of not supervising well enough what the guy was doing. An error that had nearly ended up with their young patient dead. Maybe he wouldn’t have been as angry if the teen hadn’t been having the same surgery Gabriel had died from, or maybe it wouldn’t have made any difference at all. But he had to believe that not a soul alive would blame him for being furious and distraught about a member of his staff nearly losing a child’s life through completely avoidable actions.

It was hard for him to think beyond that upsetting day when it came to Annabelle. Hard to give her the benefit of the doubt now, his chest still constricting at the memory of the chaos as they’d struggled to keep the boy alive. Another teenager, this one under Daniel’s watch, nearly dying. Was he supposed to just look the other way? Forget about it? The boy’s family had no idea how close they’d come to losing him that day, a fate that would have changed their world forever.

Some would say he should move on and give Annabelle another chance since she was older and more experienced now. And maybe they’d be right. But he’d already gotten the wheels greased for him to work with a new doc, and for her to do other, still important, work but at a different clinic, far away from him. He would feel under less stress in the OR here, and patients at the new clinic would get Annabelle’s help facilitating the surgeries they needed. So nothing but good would come from his plan.

“You got this?” he asked the team after the patient’s vital signs were normal and he was satisfied the surgery was a success.

“Yes, Dr. Ferrera,” Annabelle said in a cool, professional voice. “Ready to remove the breathing tube and IVs.”

“Good. I’ll be over at Administration, evaluating tomorrow’s patients, making final decisions about who’s on the list and when.”

Annabelle and the nurses all nodded, focusing on the patient, as they should. Daniel stripped off his gloves and mask and went to the other cement block building that served their bare-bones administration staff and doubled as a waiting room/sleeping room combo. Families with children sat on the folding chairs and sprawled on the floor, many of whom he knew had come from miles away. Patiently waiting to be seen, they slept there or outside on homemade blankets they’d brought with them, along with bags of food, since the clinic could only provide bottled water to drink. They waited to find out if they’d be one of those chosen to get well, or be put on the list for the next time a clinic was run. Some looked deceptively healthy, others were visibly ill. Far too thin, too pale, too quiet and motionless for a child to be.

Daniel’s own heart abnormality had always been hidden behind a facade of good health. He’d played sports, he’d skied, he’d seemed fine in every way. With both their heart functions in reasonably good and manageable conditions, it had been decided that surgery on the identical twins wasn’t worth the risk to either of them. That was, until Gabriel’s heart condition had worsened and he’d ended up needing the surgery that had ultimately killed him.

Daniel hadn’t had to face that.

He knew it was possible that things might change. The hole in his heart that both brothers had been born with, and that medical professionals had always kept an eye on, could get larger and more problematic than the simple arrhythmia he had to deal with sometimes. Living with his heart abnormality was a little like carrying around a ticking bomb. It might never go off. Or it could someday result in endocarditis or sepsis. Stroke. Death.

It meant Daniel lived every day as if it were his last and never committed to a forever. No long-term relationships, no children. He simply couldn’t promise anyone that he’d be here on earth for a long time, and it wouldn’t be fair to put a woman or a family through that kind of uncertainty. Through the possibility of future pain.

Twenty years had passed since his brother had died, and time had dulled the intense grief. He and his parents and grandparents still dealt with the kind of deep pain that came from a sudden, shocking loss. The ache would always be there.

Holding in a deep sigh, he moved his gaze from the throngs of patiently waiting families to the front desk, trying to detach himself by focusing on the list of patients there. He shoved down the ache that came with every mission trip, knowing he couldn’t fix everyone who needed it. Knowing that his decisions about who would get on the surgery lists and who wouldn’t meant more worries for the people who loved them. More kids who couldn’t play in a normal way until their hearts were repaired. More who might die if the tests done before he’d arrived didn’t show how serious their situation really was. More whose families might lose them forever if he made the wrong choice.