Unwrapped By The Duke
But he would not seduce Charles’s daughter and since settling down was out of the question for him, he would just have to keep a safe distance from Geraldine Collins.
They entered A and E and were waved over by the consultant in charge.
“He insisted on having his cardiology team come and look at him,” Dr. Sears said, looking over at Geraldine, confused, before turning back to Thomas. “Where is Dr. Collins?”
“I am Dr. Collins.” Geraldine pushed past him and Thomas shrugged, smirking. He had to admire her tenacity.
Lord Twinsbury was quite pale and lying back on the gurney. He smiled, though, when Geraldine came in.
“Ah, I thought I would be seeing your father but I assure you this is a better substitute.”
Geraldine smiled. “Lord Twinsbury, you’re a flirt.”
“How many times do I have to insist you call me Lionel?”
Thomas cocked his eyebrows. Never in the thirty-odd years he’d known Lord Twinsbury personally and the five years he had been the man’s surgeon had he been permitted to call him Lionel.
And Lord Twinsbury was one of his godfathers.
“Lionel, then.” Geraldine smiled. “What seems to be the matter?”
Lord Twinsbury craned his neck and looked at Thomas. “Young fellow, they paged you as well. That’s good.”
“I would certainly hope that they would page me as well, my lord, or perhaps you’ll allow me to call you Lionel, as well?”
Lord Twinsbury fixed him with a stare, much like his own dear departed father used to do. “I think not. You’re not an attractive lady, like Geraldine is.”
The stern smile softened as he looked over at Geraldine, who was taking Lord Twinsbury’s blood pressure and frowning.
“Look at this, Mr. Ashwood,” she said. Thomas leaned over to look at the reading and grimaced.
“Well? What’s wrong? I can tell by your faces that my blood pressure isn’t good.”
“No, it’s not, my lord.” Thomas pulled out his stethoscope. “Do you mind if I have a listen?”
Geraldine helped Lord Twinsbury sit up as Thomas listened to the erratic sound of Lord Twinsbury’s heart trying to pump blood through his clogged arteries. He had been warning Lord Twinsbury for years that his clogged arteries would only get worse. They had done several angioplasties at different times, but Thomas knew and had told him that one day it would come to open heart surgery.
It looked like that day had come.
“I can tell by your face, Thomas, that you’re going to tell me something I really don’t want to hear,” Lord Twinsbury said.
“You can call me by my given name but I can’t call you Lionel?”
“Your father would have a thousand fits knowing you’re being so informal with me,” Lord Twinsbury warned.
Thomas rolled his eyes. “My lord, you know what has to happen. I’ve told you this day would come. You need a coronary artery bypass graft and you need one today. Now. Or the next time you’re speaking in the House of Lords you’re liable to drop dead.”
Geraldine gasped. “You have a terrible bedside manner, Mr. Ashwood.”
Lord Twinsbury chuckled and patted Geraldine’s hand. “Nonsense. I’m used to his behavior. I like his frank talk, my dear. It keeps me on my toes.”
Geraldine frowned and Thomas winked at her.
“I’ll have you admitted, Lord Twinsbury, and then we’ll get you ready to go up to the operating theater today.”
Lord Twinsbury nodded and then turned to Geraldine. “I do hope you’ll stay, my dear. Your father has been treating my heart for so many years and I want to make sure I have someone I can trust in there.”
Thomas groaned and walked out of the room.
Lord Twinsbury was an eccentric character. He was also pompous and arrogant. Never took his advice. Probably because he still saw Thomas as that little boy who’d destroyed his Tudor hedge maze during Royal Ascot when he was ten.
“Mr. Ashwood, can I speak with you a moment?”
Good. Lord.
His day had been going so well. He’d done a great LVAD surgery to extend the life of a patient and was planning on returning to his office to get some charting done. He had not planned to deal with Charles Collins’s daughter today.
He turned around. “How can I help you, Dr. Collins?”
“Do you treat all our patients in such a manner?”
“I do, as a matter of fact, because most of them I’ve known for quite some time. I haven’t had any complaints yet.”
“Do you think that he warrants a coronary artery bypass graft? Wouldn’t another angioplasty or perhaps an endocardectomy work in this case? Is surgery really the answer for a seventy-three-year-old man in poor health?”
This was a little too much.
“Have I missed something, Dr. Collins? Are you or are you not a surgeon?”
Red tinged her cheeks and he’d hit a tender spot on her hardened walls. A chink in the armor, as it were. So perhaps there was a weakness, a crack in her icy facade. “I am a cardiologist so, no, I am not a surgeon.”
“Then do not question my surgical opinion.”
“Lord Twinsbury is as much my patient as yours.”
“Your father would never question my surgical decisions,” Thomas snapped.
“Perhaps he should.”
Thomas took a step closer to her. “How long have you been treating Lord Twinsbury, Dr. Collins? A few hours, perhaps. I have been treating him for five years and over that five years I’ve done numerous angioplasties and made a failed attempt at a carotid endocardectomy, which almost killed him. I have informed my patient that he would need a coronary artery bypass graft. I have tried to keep the procedures as minimally invasive as possible for the sake of my patient, who has been in congestive heart failure for a long time, but there is no other option, so unless you’re able to perform in the operating theater and have discovered a new, minimally invasive way of doing a coronary artery bypass graft, I would suggest you head back to our surgery in Harley Street and leave the surgical procedures to the qualified individuals.”
He turned on his heel and left her, hating himself for taking her down like that in the hallway, in front of the A and E department and other physicians. Physicians she’d be working with.
He hated himself for making her feel that way.
If it had been anyone else, he wouldn’t feel as bad as he did now. He’d given dressing-downs like that before and they had never eaten away at his conscience, but this was different.
He didn’t know why, but it was and he didn’t like it one bit.
CHAPTER TWO
I SHOULD LEAVE.
Geri bit her lip as she paced the viewing gallery of the operating theater where Thomas Ashwood was currently performing a coronary artery bypass graft on Lord Twinsbury. How she wished she could be in there, assisting. She’d read so many papers Mr. Ashwood had written. A few hours ago she would have given anything to learn from him.
Now she knew that would be a mistake. Just like Frederick had been a colossal mistake. She was here to start afresh. To prove herself. There was no way she was going to become entangled in a dalliance at work because the last time it had cost her her surgical career.
It didn’t have to.
Geri shook that thought away and closed her eyes, thinking about the surgery and how she wished she was in that operating theater. Only Mr. Ashwood had made it perfectly clear that he did not want her around.
She’d been embarrassed and after her temper had cooled she’d realized he was right. She wasn’t a surgeon; she may have seen and done surgeries during her residency, but she wasn’t a full-fledged surgeon and she never would be. Besides, she’d only known Lord Twinsbury for a week and even though she read over his file she hadn’t worked with him as long as Mr. Ashwood had.
She wanted to apologize to him.
“Apologizing is a sign of weakness.”
Geri shook her mother’s voice from her head. Apologizing in this case was not a sign of weakness but respect. She’d been wrong.
Geri had been less than thrilled to learn that the arrogant, pompous surgeon who had come sweeping into the doctors’ lounge, making assumptions about her, was her new partner. And she’d been taken a little off guard by the fact that he was a devilishly handsome, well-spoken man of breeding. As well as a surgeon she admired.
Which meant he was completely off-limits.
Definitely.
She had been hoping that she wouldn’t have to see him again, but to find out that he was the cardiothoracic surgeon and partner in the practice was too much to bear. She’d been expecting Mr. Ashwood to be someone like her father. Older and possibly on the verge of retirement.
If Mr. Ashwood was venerable she’d eat her hat and try to find out where he kept the youth elixir. She couldn’t help but wonder what her father saw in him. Her father only seemed to associate with those of his own class, members of society, what would’ve once been affectionately referred to as “the ton” if all those historical romance novels she’d read as a girl were correct.
She had been surprised to see her father’s partner was someone so young and his complete opposite. Her father was reserved, awkward and well-bred. Mr. Ashwood had a relaxed, devil-may-care attitude. A definite rogue. Then again, her father had partnered with her mother, a common daughter of a Glasgow teacher, and had produced her.
Yeah, but that didn’t last too long, did it?
Geraldine paused in her pacing to look down at him, operating on Lord Twinsbury. Even in the operating theater he had a commanding presence and she couldn’t help but admire his technique. She may not be a surgeon, but she’d watched many surgeries and Mr. Ashwood knew exactly what he was doing and he was doing it with finesse.
“There you are, Geraldine.”
Geri turned to see her father enter the observation room.
“I thought you went back to the office?” she said.
Her father shrugged his shoulders. “I was going to, but then I heard a rumor that Thomas gave you quite a dressing-down in the hall.”
Heat bloomed in her cheeks. Great. She was already making the rumor mill here. She swallowed her pride. “And rightfully so. I stepped out of line.”
“I should say so.” A smile played on her father’s lips and she couldn’t help but smile secretly to herself. He was still handsome. Even at sixty-nine she could see why her mother had fallen for her father. Or had at least stuck around long enough to conceive her.
She just didn’t see what her father had seen in her mother.
“I’m hoping he’ll allow me to apologize to him,” she said, rubbing the back of her neck.
“It’s best not to bring it up. Don’t let him see your soft underbelly. You gave an opinion, and though not the right one, it was still an opinion nonetheless. Thomas is ruthless. It’s why I asked him to be a partner. He’s talented but ruthless. If you want to survive in a successful practice with him you have to stand by everything you say. You have to bite back.”
Geri cocked an eyebrow. “Bite back?”
Her father nodded. “It will blow over and you’ll both find a rhythm of partnership. So why don’t we head home? I had Jensen bring the car around.”
Even though she was sorely tempted to leave and not expose her soft underbelly to Mr. Ashwood, she couldn’t leave things like they were. She had been wrong to question him.
And she wasn’t going to run this time. She was here for the long haul.
“I think I’ll stay if it’s all the same to you.”
“Are you sure, Geraldine?”
She nodded. “Positive.”
Her father reached down and squeezed her shoulder. “Just call for the car when you need it, then. Jensen won’t mind.”
“Of course.”
Only she wouldn’t. She’d take the tube to Holland Park. She may not be from London, but she knew her way around public transportation just fine. She just wouldn’t tell her father that. He would have a thousand fits if he knew that she was taking public transportation like a commoner. Only that was what she was.
She may talk in a refined way, because she worked hard to drop the rough accent she’d had since childhood, but she didn’t belong in this world she’d just been thrust into.
The first time she’d had a formal dinner at her father’s large Holland Park home she’d been so confused by the number of forks she’d made an excuse about not being hungry and had left the table.
Her father had been less than thrilled to find that she’d walked down the street to the local pub and had had something to eat there.
What am I doing here?
She tried to tell herself that she was getting to know her estranged father, taking the opportunity of a lifetime of inheriting a lucrative practice in Harley Street, but she wasn’t sure that was it.
There was a buzz on the intercom, snapping Geri out of her reverie. She got up and pushed the button.
“Dr. Collins, I’m surprised to see you up there,” Thomas said, not looking up at her.
“Well, Lord Twinsbury did mention that he wanted me close by.”
Thomas glanced up and there was a twinkle in his eyes. “So he did. Why don’t you scrub in and come down here? You can keep me company.”
“I thought since I wasn’t a surgeon my place wasn’t in the operating theater.”
He chuckled. “So I did, but I think this once I can make an exception for my new partner. Will you come down?”
“I’ll be right there.” Geri let go of the buzzer and made her way down to the change room, where she found some scrubs. A nurse led her to the scrub room, where she scrubbed down and then entered the operating theater. She kept a discreet distance so she didn’t contaminate the sterile field. She’d missed being in the operating theater. It had been so long.
“I wanted to apologize, Mr. Ashwood,” she said.
“Whatever for?” he asked absently, in that haughty way that drove her insane.
“I think you know.”
He shook his head. “No apology needed. I might’ve been too harsh on you. You’re allowed to have an opinion.”
Geraldine was shocked. Frederick would’ve never admitted that to another surgeon or doctor.
“I really think—”
“No. It’s done. More suction, please.” Thomas didn’t look at her as he continued the surgery. “Lord Twinsbury is a friend of my father’s. I’ve known him for quite some time. I get a little overprotective of him.”
“I see. Is your father friends with my father?”
Thomas smiled behind his mask, she could tell by the way his eyes crinkled. “No, in fact they were nemesis...or is that nemeses?”
Geri chuckled. “Rivals?”
“In some respects,” Thomas said. “Although my father was not in the medical profession. I believe they were both rapscallions in their youth. Playing the field and going after the same women.”
Geri’s stomach twisted in a knot and she had a hard time picturing her father as a rapscallion. “Is that a fact?”
“Yes. I was surprised when your father brought me on when I completed my surgical residency. He had the most prestigious cardiology practice in Harley Street and I was willing to give my eyeteeth to work with him. I had to convince him that taking on a surgeon was a good business decision.”
That was more believable. In the short time she’d known her father she’d gathered he wasn’t one to take chances.
“Well, you seemed to have won him over.”
“He never told me about you, though, not until a couple of months ago when he said you were joining us.” This time he looked up from the surgery to fix her with those dark eyes that seemed to see past her facade into her very soul.
“My father and I don’t have the best relationship. Or at least we didn’t. I’m hoping to rectify that now.” She hoped he didn’t know she was lying through her teeth and under his hard stare she felt a bit uncomfortable.
“You’re not even listed in Debrett’s.”
“Should I be?” Geri asked, hoping her voice didn’t rise with her nervousness.
“Your parents were legally married.”
“Briefly. I believe the divorce was finalized just after I was born. My mother left before she knew she was pregnant with me.”
“So you should be in Debrett’s, given that your father has a seat in the House of Lords.”
“You seem to know a lot about me.”
“I know nothing about you and that’s the problem.” He held out a hand while a scrub nurse passed him an instrument. “You’re a complete mystery.”
“Why are you even looking me up in Debrett’s? What does it matter if I’m listed in there? It’s a pretty useless publication, if you ask me.” She crossed her arms, hugging herself, as if that would hide the fact that she was the estranged daughter of an aristocrat.
She’d read this story a million times in the romance novels she cherished. Only those novels were fiction and fantasy. This was real life.
And she was a doctor, a darned good doctor who was specializing in cardiology, and she had no interest, at the moment, in anything beyond medicine and helping her patients.
“It is that,” Thomas agreed. “I mean, who needs to know who is thirty-seventh in line to the throne?”
“Exactly. I don’t know and I really don’t care.”
“So what do you care about?” he asked.
“Medicine. It’s all I care about.”
He chuckled and shook his head. “You should’ve been a surgeon.”
“And why is that?”
“You’re cold. Detached. Vicious.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said.
“I meant it as one,” Thomas said. “But surely you have some interest beyond medicine. Reading, travelling...crochet?”
“Crochet?” she asked, trying not to laugh at the absurdity.
“It’s good for the hands. Keeps the fingers strong and the mind sharp.”
“Do you crochet, then?”
“Good lord, no.”
“Then who told you that crocheting keeps the fingers strong and the mind sharp?”
“My grandmother, but then again she was a bit batty.”
Geri couldn’t help but smile. “So what do you do, then?”
“I paint.”
Now she was intrigued. “What do you paint?”
“Nudes mostly.” And he waggled his eyebrows at her over his surgical mask. She couldn’t help but laugh along with the others in the room.
Frederick would never joke like this.
It was beneath him and Geri found herself liking this laid-back camaraderie. There was a light in the darkness of a serious surgery.
“I read a study once that said patients, although under general anesthesia, are aware of what is going on around them. Subconsciously. Better outcomes when the surgeon is happy.”
Thomas stared at her and she regretted opening her mouth. Was he going to berate her again?
“I heard that too. And I believe it.” He returned to his work and Geri watched him. Thomas was just as impressive as she’d always thought he would be.
Thomas laid down his instruments. “Dr. Fellowes, would you close up for me?”
“Yes, Mr. Ashwood.” Dr. Fellowes stepped into the lead surgeon spot and began to close up the patient.
Thomas moved past her to the scrub room and Geraldine followed him as he peeled off his gloves, mask and surgical gown, placing them in the receptacle, before he began to scrub his hands.
Geraldine did the same.
“That was textbook surgery, if I do say so myself.” There was a smug, satisfied smile plastered across Thomas’s face.
“I’m glad it went so well.”
“Well, the surgery went well. The next twenty-four hours will tell me the entire picture.” Thomas dried his hands. “It’s still touch and go. Recovery will be the key to success or failure.”
“Will I see you tomorrow at the office?” Geri asked.
“No,” he said. “I plan to stay close to Lord Twinsbury tonight. I will be monitoring him in the intensive care unit.”
“Is it because he’s a family friend or do you do that for all your patients?” She was teasing, she didn’t really expect such a high-class surgeon to remain by his patient’s bedside. Especially an elderly one like Lord Twinsbury, who, given his health, probably wouldn’t have much of a shot of pulling through.
“All of them. Every last one.”
She was stunned and was positive her mouth was hanging open by the way he grinned at her.
“Have a good evening, Dr. Collins.”
Geri watched him walk down the hall. She shook her head. Every time she tried to fit Mr. Ashwood into a certain slot in her mind, he completely and utterly didn’t fit.
And just as she’d surmised before, he was a danger.
A very sexy, tempting danger that she wanted no part of.
* * *
“You took the tube again didn’t you?”
Geri hung up her coat on the coatrack in her father’s office. “Well, you didn’t wake me when Jensen took you to work.”
“You got in late. I thought you’d appreciate the lie-in.”
She had actually. “Yes, but today is clinic day. How am I supposed to get to know my new patients if I spend half the morning in bed?”
“Why didn’t you call Jensen to bring you in?” her father asked. He sounded tense, as if he’d been worrying about her the whole time. Which was nice, but unwarranted. She was an adult.
“The Westway is jam-packed or didn’t you hear about that?” she asked.
“Jensen could’ve taken the Bayswater Road. The Westway is always jam-packed at this time of day.”
“I’m quite used to taking public transportation.”
“I know, Geraldine, but your situation is different now.” He returned to his work.
She took a seat in front of her father. “And how is it different? I still am the same person and no one knows me from Adam.”
“You’re a lady of means. An heiress,” he said, not looking up.
Geri wrinkled her nose. “I’m a doctor.”
Her father ran a hand through his hair and then sighed. “You’re just as stubborn as your mother.”
Geri shrugged. “I’ll take that as a compliment.” Though she really didn’t think it was much of a compliment as she didn’t want much association or comparison with her mother.
“Hmm.” Her father then pulled out a cream-colored envelope and handed it to her. “You’ve been invited to your first social gathering.”
She took the envelope and stared at the fancy calligraphy. “What’s it for?”
“It’s for a party after the London International Horse Show. We’ve both been invited. It’s formal attire as the Duke of Weatherstone has been invited. You know he’s in the line of royal succession.”
Geri cocked her eyebrows and stared at the invitation. “How do I turn it down?”
“You can’t turn it down.”
“Why not?” she asked, flipping it over. “It’s for this weekend.”
“And what plans do you have for this weekend?”
She shrugged. “Christmas shopping.”
“You’re going. I’ve already told our hostess we’d be attending. Besides, it’s a good way to get to know some of our patients. A lot of them will be there.”
Before she could argue there was a knock at the door and Thomas stuck his head in. There were dark circles under his eyes, as if he’d been up all night, but that didn’t deter from his general svelte and put-together appearance.
Good lord, he was handsome and a brilliant surgeon to boot.
Why did he have to look so good?
He’s off-limits. Off. Limits.
“Am I interrupting?” Thomas asked.
Yes.
“No, Thomas, come in,” Charles said.
Thomas opened the door and came in, jamming his hands in his finely tailored trouser pockets. “I wanted to report that Lord Twinsbury made it through the night.”
Her father nodded and smiled. “That’s excellent news.”
“Wonderful,” she said.
Thomas glanced at her briefly, his gaze landing on the cream-colored envelope. “Ah, I see the invitations for the Gileses’ party have arrived.”
“Yes, apparently the Duke of Weatherstone will be there,” Geri teased.
A strange look passed across his face. “Well, I can tell you who won’t be there—Lord Twinsbury. He’ll still be in hospital for another week at least. At least he’s out of the intensive care unit, but he’s demanding to see his cardiologist.”