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The Rebel Doc Who Stole Her Heart
The Rebel Doc Who Stole Her Heart

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The Rebel Doc Who Stole Her Heart

Язык: Английский
Год издания: 2018
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“I agree.”

“Is there anything further?” Michelle shifted some papers on her desk that he suspected she really hadn’t been working on. She was trying to get him to leave without coming out and saying it. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to just forget that she’d been crying before he’d entered the office. Despite her less than warm demeanor toward him, he wanted to help her. He wanted to peel away the layers and find out what made the woman tick.

“I can see that you’ve already had dessert but I was wondering if you might like to grab a meal with me. I heard there is a place not far from here that serves a great roast-beef platter.”

She looked up at him as if he had snakes in his hair. “No, thank you. I have work to do.”

“Then maybe another time.”

“I don’t think so.”

He leaned his hip against her desk and looked down at where she sat. She glared at him pointedly.

“What sticks in your craw about me? Or is it you can’t stand anyone?” He raised a hand to stop her from interrupting. “It’s none of my business, and you can pretend differently, but I know your feelings were hurt a while ago. All you have to do is show them that you’re human. Smile, ask about their families. Win them over a little.”

Michelle stood with a jerk. Placing both hands on the edge of her desk, she leaned towards him. “You think I don’t know what the staff thinks about me? It isn’t my job to be friends with them. My patients’ care comes first and foremost. How dare you come in and try to tell me how to run my life? I don’t need some flit-in and flit-out doctor to tell me how I need to interact with the nurses.”

A slow grinned came to his lips. He’d expected her righteous indignation. “I’m just saying you can catch more flies with honey than you can with vinegar.”

She sputtered her disgust as he turned to leave.

At two in the morning Michelle pushed open the door of the physicians’ entrance to the hospital and stepped out into the night. Her team had been called in to handle an emergency. Thankfully she didn’t do too much surgery in the early hours of the morning. A hospital took on an other-world feeling late at night. Spooky yet peaceful.

She was so tired she hadn’t bothered to change out of her scrubs. Something that rarely happened. Her hair was still pulled back and secured by a rubber band, producing a small ponytail that brushed her neck. Holding her small purse in her hand, she was taking her first step towards her car when the door behind her opened. She jumped. Glancing back, she saw Ty. In one way it was a relief that it wasn’t someone with nefarious ideas; in another he wasn’t her favorite person.

This was the first time outside the OR she’d seen him since their conversation, turned blow-out on her part, hours earlier. She had cooled off but she still didn’t know why he thought he had the right to offer her advice. Especially the unsolicited kind.

She started walking.

“Nice work in there, Michelle,” he called.

She stopped and looked back at him. The lighting in the parking area wasn’t dim enough to disguise his drained stance. For once he wasn’t being upbeat and bubbly. He seemed as tired as she was. He’d changed out of his scrubs and now wore a light-colored T-shirt that fit his muscular shoulders far too tightly for her not to notice. A pair of baggy cargo shorts and sandals finished off his outfit.

On anyone else those clothes might have looked like those of a bum, but on Ty they added to his bad-boy sex appeal. His hair was no longer tied back, like he’d worn it under his surgery cap. Instead, it looked as if he’d pushed his hands through it and let it go. He looked untamed and wild.

“Whew, this early-morning stuff isn’t as easy as it used to be in med school. Who I’m I trying to kid? It wasn’t easy then.” He came to stand beside her.

Did he think that she was going to act as if nothing had happened between them? “No, it wasn’t.” She started walking again.

“Michelle, wait.”

She stopped and turned again. “Why? So you can tell me what I need to do?”

“Ooh, so the woman can carry a grudge.”

“I’m not carrying a grudge! I just don’t like people butting into my business.”

“Maybe you just don’t like people,” he said in an even tone.

She stepped toward him. “I do like people.”

“Then prove it.”

“Prove it?” What was he talking about?

“Yeah. Say one nice thing about me.”

She let out a dry chuckle.

He tilted his head and studied her. “You know, I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you approach anything near a laugh.”

“I laugh.”

“When? When no one is around?” he asked, moving passed her.

“Are you trying to start an argument?”

He paused this time. “No, I was trying to give you a compliment. Maybe flirt with you a little.”

“I don’t want you flirting with me.”

“Why not?”

She pinned him with a look. Even in the faint light she could see his wicked grin. She had no doubt that his eyes were twinkling. “Because nothing about you says you’re serious about anything.”

“That’s not true. I’m always serious about caring for my patients.”

“You know what I mean. All the nurses flock to you. I’ve even seen women from different departments come to the floor who have never been there before to see or hopefully be seen by Ty Smith.”

“Hey, you can’t fault me for that.”

He was right, but she wasn’t becoming one of his groupies. “Why don’t you make their day by flirting with them and leave me alone?”

“Because you doth protest too much. You’re far too much fun to tease. I can always count on a pretty blush and a sharp rebuttal. You challenge my mind.”

“Humph.” She started walking toward her car. “So you’ve decided I’m going to be your entertainment while you’re in town. I’m not flattered.”

He fell into step beside her. “The way you say it doesn’t make it sound too nice. Like I’m pulling wings off butterflies. Has it ever occurred to you that I might be attracted to you?”

“No.”

“No.” He voice held total disbelief. “You don’t think I could be attracted to you or, no, you don’t think I’m attracted to you?”

“Both.”

“My, you’re mighty cynical for such a beautiful and intelligent woman.”

She put her hands on her hips and really looked at him. “Ty, I’m no one’s good-time girl. I already have enough worries, without adding you to my list.”

“Don’t you ever just want to have a good time?”

“I don’t have time for a good time.” She clicked the fob to unlock her car then opened the door.

“Hey, you never said what you like about me.”

She slipped under the wheel. “Goodnight, Ty.” And closed the door.

Looking into the rear-view window, she saw him saunter over to where a motorcycle was parked. He had a loose-hipped walk that belied his size. Letting him get into her head wasn’t a good idea.

She stuck her key into the ignition and turned it. A clicking noise was all that happened. She tried it again. The engine refused to start.

The zoom of a motorcycle being turned off made her look into the mirror. Ty was getting off his bike and putting the kickstand down. She opened the car door. “The battery is dead.”

He stepped closer. “You’ve had trouble with it before?”

“Yeah. It was a little slow to start when I headed here. I was going to have it seen to tomorrow.”

“Well, it looks like you’re going to need a ride home.”

She searched for her phone. “I’ll call a taxi.”

“I’ll give you a lift.”

“I don’t think so. I’ll just wait here for a taxi.”

“Be realistic, Michelle. How long do you think it will take for a taxi to show up at this hour? And you’re sure as heck not going to sit in a dark parking lot and wait.”

“I can go inside.”

“Come on. Let me give you a drive home. I’ll ride slowly. No fancy moves.”

Still unsure, she was exhausted and the thought of having to wait another hour or longer to head home wasn’t appealing. She grabbed her purse as she climbed out of the car. “Okay, but no nonsense. I saw one too many motorcycle victims when I was doing my ER rotation.”

“I promise, only one wheelie.”

“What?” She stepped back, planning to refuse to get on.

“Kidding. Just kidding.”

Ty was pleased he hadn’t had to do a more convincing job of selling Michelle on the idea of riding on his bike. Most women he’d known had seemed to be fascinated by the prospect. It was part of his mystique. For him, it was cheap and easy transportation. Apparently Michelle wasn’t impressed one way or another with his air of mystery. For some reason he wished she was, but was glad she wasn’t. He never dipped below the surface of his emotions and he didn’t want anyone else to do it either.

He unlocked the seat compartment, pulled out a spare helmet and offered it to her. His hand remained suspended in mid-air for a moment before she took it. She made no further movement.

“You do know that you have to put it on to ride? It’s the law.”

She look around as if there might be a state trooper watching.

He shoved his hair back, preparing to slip on his own helmet. Michelle remained rooted to the spot as if she couldn’t make up her mind whether or not this was a good idea. “Are you coming or not?” Again she scanned the parking lot like she was hoping for any other option. Taking a deep breath, she put the helmet on her head. It wouldn’t go into place because of her hair.

“Here, let me help you.” He lifted the helmet off her head and reached around to release her hair. He could feel her breath on his neck.

She bent her torso away from him. “What’re you doing?”

“Trying to get your head into this helmet. Your hair is stopping it from going on.”

“Oh.”

“What did you think I was doing? Making a play for you?”

“No.”

“Yes, you did.” He looked her straight in the eyes, wishing the streetlights were brighter. “If and when I make a play for you, you won’t need to question what I’m doing. It will be perfectly clear.” With great satisfaction he watched her throat bob up and down. “Now I’m tired and I’m hungry. If you would like me to take you home you’re going to have to let me help you with the helmet. Of course, I can also escort you to the lobby so you can wait for a taxi there. Either way, I’d like to get a move on.”

She pulled the rubber band out of her hair and plopped the helmet down on her head.

So the ice queen responded to authority.

“I’m going to fix the chin strap now,” he said in an exaggerated voice, as if speaking to a child.

“Stop making fun of me. I’ve never been on a motorcycle before.”

She gave him such a pointed look of defiance that he wanted to take off the helmet and kiss her.

“I’m still not sure you’re the one I want to take my first ride with.”

He chuckled as he picked up his helmet from the handlebars. “I promise it will be a ride to remember.” After slipping on his helmet, he said, “Hand me your purse. I’ll put it under the seat.”

Michelle did so, after only a moment of hesitation. Storing the purse and closing the seat, he then threw a leg over the bike, pushed the kickstand up and revved the engine. The bike roared to life. He looked back over his shoulder. “By the definition of ride, you have to get on first.”

She lifted a leg over the seat. He had the sense that she was making every effort not to touch him. When she tottered, a hand gripped his shoulder then was gone, only to return just as quickly. He’d watched those long, delicate fingers do meticulous surgery. Now he felt their strength. What would it be like to have her want to touch him all over?

She pulled her hands away again as she settled on the bike.

“You need to move up close and hang on or you’ll fall off the back.”

Michelle shifted closer but acted as if she was making sure her legs didn’t touch his. She held a fistful of shirt in each hand, instead of wrapping her hands around his waist.

“Ready?”

She nodded.

“Okay. Here we go.” He clicked the bike into gear, let off the hand clutch and the bike moved across the lot. Less than five seconds later Michelle’s arms had his waist in a death grip. Her thighs squeezed his where they met, and her face and chest were plastered to his back.

His manhood rose in response. He sucked in a breath. This had been such a bad idea on so many levels. The woman was terrified and he was turned on.

He took his hand off the handlebars long enough to pat her knee. “You’re doing great.”

As he turned right out of the parking lot, he realized he had no idea where she lived. He’d spent so much time trying to convince her to get on the bike that he’d forgotten to ask for directions. “Which way is your house?” he called over his shoulder.

There was no answer.

“Point in the direction I need to go.”

Again he heard nothing.

“Michelle, we can’t just drive around all night. You have to tell me where you live.”

She lifted one finger against his stomach and pointed ahead.

“I’m going the right way?”

She nodded against his back.

It was far too late for word games. He needed directions and she seemed incapable of giving them. Just up the street was the bright sign of an all-night diner. He was hungry and because they had done surgery tonight they wouldn’t be required to be at the hospital until the day after tomorrow. They had time to stop.

He pulled into the parking lot and under the glaring lights. As he eased the bike to a stop, Michelle’s grip on him slackened. He missed her warm, soft breasts pressed tightly against him. As if she realized she was still holding onto him, her arms fell away and she pushed back on the seat.

“What’re we doing here?”

“Getting some breakfast.”

“I want to go home.”

“In that case, you’re going to have to tell me how to get there. Which you couldn’t do on the bike. So while you give me directions, I’m going to get some eggs and bacon. Care to join me?”

Once again she looked unsure. It always caught him by surprise because she was so formidable in the OR. Maybe the overconfident woman wasn’t so self-assured after all.

“I am kind of hungry.”

She put one foot on the ground and grabbed his shoulder as she brought the other over. He climbed off. Michelle was already in the process of removing her helmet. When she got it off he took it from her and laid it beside his on the seat.

The diner looked like it had been around forever. It was a fifties-type place with silver siding, orange bench seats, and Formica tabletops. He loved the place already.

He held the door open for Michelle. Her hair was mussed and she still wore green scrubs but that didn’t detract from her stately walk or good looks. She could have been a conquering queen by the way she held herself. What made her even more eye-catching was that it was a natural part of who she was, nothing conceited about it.

There were only a handful of people in the place but all eyes turned to her. She ignored them and scooted into the first booth she came to. Ty moved in across from her.

“I thought you might like to sit where you can see your bike.”

“Good plan.”

“How long have you been riding?” she asked as she picked up a plastic-covered menu.

“Since I was about sixteen.”

“That young?” Her eyes widened.

“Yeah. I had to have a way to get to and from school.”

She looked up over the menu. “Your parents let you have a motorcycle at that age?”

“No, my grandfather did.” Whoa, she’d already gotten more personal information out of him than most people did. Usually he steered the conversation away from himself but Michelle wasn’t giving him a chance to as she shot off another question.

“How did your parents feel about that?”

“They didn’t care.”

She looked down at the double-sided card in her hand and mumbled, “I sure would have.”

“They weren’t around to care.” Bitterness filled his voice but, then, it always did when he spoke about his parents. Which he rarely did.

Thankfully the server approached their table. She was in her mid-forties, slightly overweight and had her thin hair tied back in a ponytail. “What you have?”

“Hi, there. I’ll have the breakfast platter. Eggs over easy.”

When the woman looked at her, Michelle said, “And I’d like the mile-high pancakes.”

Ty smiled up at the server. “And a large pot of fresh coffee.”

The woman smiled. “Coming up.”

“You’re amazing. That woman looked so sour when she came over to take our order and she leaves smiling because she has spoken to you.”

“Why, thank you. Nothing but the power of Ty.”

“The power of Ty, uh? Ty is a nickname, isn’t it? I’d guess your full name is Tyrone.”

Michelle was being unusually chatty. Maybe it was the late hour, maybe she was hungry or maybe it was the fact she was stuck with him. Normally he would have complained about all the personal questions but he found he didn’t want to give her a reason to stop. It was good and bad. He liked her attention too much and she was uncovering his secrets.

“I was named after Tyrone, Georgia.”

“Why after a town?’

“Because my parents were passing through it when my mother went into labor. You sure are full of questions.”

“It’s interesting. I’ve never known anyone named after a town. So you were born in Tyrone.”

Ty hesitated a moment before he said more. He’d told maybe three other people about his birth. “No, I was born in a stand of trees beside a cotton field.”

“What?”

“My parents didn’t believe in going to the hospital.” He put his fingers in the air to make quotation marks. “Birth is a natural process. You don’t need a hospital for that.”

“In this day and age I can’t imagine that happening.”

For Joey no doctor and no hospital, going all natural, had been a death sentence. Ty had seen to it that he was no longer associated with those ideas. “Well, it didn’t just happen yesterday. I am thirty-four years old.” Okay, now he’d said enough. For someone who had a difficult time building relationships at work, Michelle sure had him spilling his guts.

“You know what I mean. Medicine has advanced so far. We know so much more than we used to.”

“Yeah, science has come a long way but not everyone embraces it, neither does it have all the answers.” That statement made it sound like he was defending his parents, which he certainly was not.

Michelle’s eyes went dark and a sheen of moisture covered them before she blinked. What had she been thinking about to bring that on?

Her eyes rose to meet his. They held a stricken look for a second before her gaze focused downward. Had he stumbled on a secret? He didn’t want to look into anyone’s dark closet.

To his great relief, the server returned to place Michelle’s plate down in front of her then his in front of him. Now he’d make an effort to turn the conversation to something less personal and certainly more pleasant.

“Whoo, comfort food. I might think you’re feeding your emotions.”

“I like pancakes. Nothing special there.”

He was beginning to think there were a number of things special about Michelle.

“Still an amazing amount of food for such a shapely woman.”

“Shapely?”

“Don’t try to act like you don’t know you’re a fine-looking woman.”

“Thank you,” she said in a humble-sounding voice.

“How do you stay in such good shape?”

“I swim laps three times a week and I have good genes. My mother …”

She put a bit of pancake in her mouth but he had the feeling she had purposely decided not to say more.

“Interesting. I took you for a gym rat. But on second thoughts that would be far too sociable for you.”

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