Tempted By The Brooding Surgeon: Tempted by the Brooding Surgeon / From Fling to Wedding Ring

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.

“May I have the list of possible patients for tomorrow?” he asked the receptionist. With the long sheet in hand, he moved from family to family, child to child. Reading their charts and talking with them about their symptoms. Listening to their hearts to evaluate murmurs and arrhythmias, and to figure out the best course of action to help them to get better.

Hoping and praying he got it all right.

“I think that’s it for the day,” he said in Spanish to the clinic receptionist, who seemed as worn out as he did, and he knew the whole team had to feel the same way. “I’ll let everyone know we’re done until tomorrow morning.”

“Sí, Dr. Ferrera. I’m sure more folks will arrive by morning, and I’ll try to sort them by health priority before you talk with them after surgery tomorrow.”

“Be sure to let me know if any seem critical, and I’ll look at them between patients to see if they need to be fitted into the rotation as soon as possible.”

She nodded, and Daniel bit back a tired sigh at the thought of more patients to evaluate even before the medical team started surgery in the morning. But that was the whole reason they were here, wasn’t it? To see the maximum number of the most ill children was the name of the game.

When Daniel stepped back inside the cement block building that housed the OR, he was surprised to see Annabelle helping Jennifer and Karina wash out the masks and tracheal tubes they’d used for their patients, sterilizing them, then hanging them to dry. Most docs left that to the nursing staff and local tech assistants, and he watched her lean over to dig out surgical items like sponges and syringes from a box he hadn’t seen before.

“What’s all that stuff in there, and where did it come from?” he asked.

“I brought it.” Annabelle didn’t look up at him, just kept laying out items for tomorrow morning’s surgeries.

“Did your hospital donate it?”

“Dr. Richards started a—”

Annabelle sent Jennifer a deep frown, accompanied by a small shake of her head, that had Jennifer quickly closing her mouth.

What was that all about? He looked from Annabelle to Jennifer, then back to see Annabelle intensely concentrating on sorting the equipment. He couldn’t help but wonder what it was that she clearly didn’t want him to hear, and he would definitely be asking Jennifer later when Annabelle wasn’t around to shush her.

“It’s just a few things. Not as much as we’d like to have, but I didn’t have much room in my suitcase and, of course, I had to bring the useless monitor.”

So she was still angry with him about that. Not that it was any real surprise.

“I never said it was useless. I said we’d functioned without monitors plenty of times in the past, and that missing a whole day of surgeries, then being late with a patient already on the operating table and putting us hugely behind schedule, wasn’t worth the time wasted getting one here.”

As soon as he finished speaking, the strident sound of his words made him feel a little ridiculous. It was history at this point, and the woman had worked hard all day with the rest of the team, with successful outcomes for every patient. He nearly opened his mouth to say something more, maybe a general congratulations and thank-you to the whole team, but the words died at the icy dislike in the look she sent him.

Those pretty lips of hers had thinned, too, but she didn’t respond, which he was fine with as the subject needed to be dropped. “Anyway,” he continued, annoyed that he felt awkward, “I’m told dinner is being held for us at the hotel. Anything I can do to help get things finished up here?”

“We’re fine, Dr. Ferrera. Not much more to do, but you go ahead,” Annabelle said as she hung another washed-out mask on the line.

“I’m not going to eat while you’re all still out here.”

“This is the last bit,” Jennifer said, drying her hands and shooting him a grin. “And I don’t know about anybody else, but I’m pretty much starving.”

“Me, too,” Daniel said, glad that at least she and the other nurse weren’t holding some kind of grudge against him, channeling Annabelle’s obvious dislike. He needed a good working relationship with the surgical team. “Let’s go.”

Normally on these kinds of trips Daniel had dinner with the team then excused himself to be alone. To regroup and relax after a long day of work that was stressful no matter how many years he’d been doing it, knowing children’s lives were literally in his hands. But tonight the jovial mood and banter between the group kept him in his seat. Jennifer and Karina told a number of absurd hospital stories during dinner that had everyone laughing, including Annabelle. Why he found his attention was focused on her more than the storytellers, he wasn’t sure. But as soon as he pondered that, the answer was obvious. Something about her sparkling eyes and infectious smile and pretty face made him smile, too. Drew him to her, whether he liked it or not.

From the moment they’d all started eating he couldn’t help but notice that Annabelle seemed to enjoy her dinner far more than the rest of them. While the food at this hotel wasn’t bad compared to what was often on the menu on mission trips, it hardly qualified as something to lick your lips over. But from the look on Annabelle’s face as she ate every bite on her plate, anyone would have thought it was gourmet fare.

He nearly commented on it, but decided that would probably just make her mad at him all over again. His relationships with women might be of the sweet but short variety but that didn’t mean he wasn’t well aware that most females didn’t appreciate observations about how much food they did or didn’t eat, and whether or not they seemed to be enjoying it.

So he kept his mouth shut, while watching her pretty lips smile as she chewed and her enthusiasm as she poked another bite into her mouth. Enjoying watching her was a big part of the reason he hadn’t retired to his room. Irritated though they’d both been with one another yesterday and this morning, he liked seeing her face relaxed and smiling, to hear the sound of her musical laughter. All that was a lot better than the scowl and cold voice she usually sent his way, though he didn’t understand why he suddenly seemed to care about that.

“How about you, Annabelle?” The question came out of his mouth before he’d known he was going to ask it. “What’s your most memorable mission trip story?”

Her eyes met his, looking surprised that he’d directed a question to her. “Hmm...” she said, tapping her finger against those lush lips. “I guess the craziest thing that ever happened was on one of my trips to Guatemala. The military guides in front of us were stopped, then surrounded, by a bunch of cutthroat-looking guys with all kinds of weapons pointed at them, and us,” she began, and Daniel had to wonder why she was smiling at the retelling of what had to have been a scary situation. He’d been in a few himself, and even now would definitely not have been grinning about them.

“Oh, my heavens,” Jennifer said, wide-eyed as she pressed her hands to her cheeks. “What happened?”

“We were in the SUV behind them, and obviously we were worried. A nurse and I were the only passengers in the car, planning to meet the surgeon at the mission site. We kind of froze, wondering what our guides were going to do, figuring we should stay put. But then the guys came back to our car and gestured for us to get out. Gotta tell you, my knees were shaking! They took us to a house, and we had no idea what was going to happen. Whether they were going to take us in there and just plain shoot us, or do something awful to us, or what.”

Daniel found he was holding his breath, even as he knew this story must have a good outcome or she wouldn’t be smiling like she was.

“And?” Karina asked, obviously as riveted to hear the answer as he felt.

“They opened the door, and before we were even inside, we could hear a woman moaning. The minute we saw her, it was obvious that she was in labor and having some kind of serious problem. In a lot of pain. We ended up doing an emergency C-section on her, delivering the most beautiful twins you’ve ever seen. And they were healthy and fine—such a relief because we weren’t sure what to expect, you know? Then later, when she and the babies were stable, I came back out to tell them everything was okay, that mama and babies were all fine and healthy. They whooped and hollered and hugged me and swung me around until I couldn’t breathe!

“And one man—I never knew for sure, but I assume it was the babies’ father—had tears rolling down his cheeks as he hugged me. It was an incredible feeling to know we’d helped, and that maybe the mother and babies wouldn’t have made it without us. It felt like it was divine intervention that we were traveling there when they needed us, you know? It was the best day of my life.”

“I can’t believe you never told me this before!” Jennifer said. “So they were nice to you, then?”

“Maybe too nice.” Annabelle grinned. “They plied us with rum and beer and all kinds of food, and we ended up staying the night there, partly because we wanted to check on the new mom and babies in the morning and partly because the military guys and our driver had a bit too much for them to handle getting behind the wheel.”

“Wow, now that’s one for the books,” Karina said, laughing.

“Yeah, it was scary, but funny and wonderful, too. If we hadn’t been on the road there at that moment, I think the outcome might have been bad. So it was a truly great night. The best feeling in the world. Then word apparently got around, because on the way to the two clinics we worked on that trip, there were always locals helping us out any way they could, even acting as secondary escorts along with the military. It was awesome to feel appreciated that way, and to know that we’d really made a difference there.”

“When was this?” Karina asked.

“My first mission trip. Four years ago.”

“Your very first one?” Jennifer exclaimed. “I’d imagine having such a scary experience might have made you think twice about going on another one.”

“Life can be pretty scary in the US too. Can’t let it keep you from living.”

Jennifer nodded, and Daniel detected a trace of sympathy aimed at Annabelle as all amusement left both their faces. He figured they must be thinking of some of the violence, especially in big cities, that sent people to the ER no matter where they lived.

She quickly changed the subject to more mundane conversation about the hospitals where she and Jennifer worked, and he only half listened as he thought about Annabelle. Her first mission trip had been only four years ago, and she’d told him...what? That this was her ninth one? That was a lot of vacation time taken for this kind of trip. Most women he knew from both Peru and the US who had the means preferred taking spa vacations or trips to exotic locations. Just as he was about to ask her where else she’d gone on mission trips, and why, his cell phone rang.

He glanced down and nearly cursed when he saw it was the general surgeon from a Lima hospital that he’d asked to open the currently closed clinic near Huancayo for the duration of this trip. Not a conversation he wanted to have in front of everyone.

“Excuse me a moment,” he said, getting up to stride to the hotel door. As he did so, he swore he could feel Annabelle’s blue eyes drilling a hole in his back, but of course that was his imagination.

“Thanks for calling, Eduardo. So, are you able to take a week or so to work in Huancayo?”

“Good timing from this end. I can be there the day after tomorrow, with Alan Velasco coming to do anesthesia with you at your clinic the same day.”

“Glad to hear it. Thanks for making that happen. When I learned that the Huancayo clinic hadn’t been open for over a year, I knew we should get a surgeon up there if at all possible. So I appreciate you going.” And never mind that lack of recent care wasn’t the only reason he’d wanted to get it open for business.

“We Peruvians have to look after our own when we can, right? Alan and I’ll be at your clinic on Tuesday with a nurse who’s agreed to help me, then I’ll take the anesthesiologist you want working with me down to Huancayo.”

Peruvians looked after their own? He knew that wasn’t always true. Those like his own family with education and wealth and privilege were certainly well taken care of. But those living in poverty on the other side of the infamous wall of shame in Lima that had been compared to the Berlin Wall? The deeply poor living in the many remote towns in Peru that the various mission groups were devoted to help? Not so much.

“Thanks again. I’ll let Dr. Richards know she’ll be helping get the clinic open in Huancayo. See you when you get here.”

He should be elated, since this was exactly how he’d hoped it would all turn out. Instead, a small knot formed in his gut as he pondered how to talk to Annabelle about the change of plans. But surely, if he played it right, she’d be happy to be helping patients in a part of the country that hadn’t received medical care or surgeries for a long time. Right?

Daniel shook off his unease and headed back toward the hotel. Whatever he was feeling was ridiculous and made no sense. He’d have a top-notch anesthesiologist working with him on the delicate heart surgeries, and more children and adults with health problems would be seen during the next couple of weeks in Huancayo, where the need was real. Annabelle might never know he’d been the one to get the clinic open but even if she did, she’d probably assume it had come about organically, without any agenda other than having more doctors available to care for more patients. A win for everyone.

The shining halo of Annabelle’s pale blond hair shone through the falling darkness in front of the hotel, just as it had at dawn this morning, spilling to her shoulders in silky waves. His steps slowed as he thought through how he was going to tell her about the change of plans in a way that would make her feel fine about it. Then stopped completely to watch her crouch down to a feral cat, offering it a morsel of food that had it purring and rubbing against her ankles. The sexy roundness of her bottom and hips caught his attention, and the sweet, low sound of her voice crept under his skin.

“Ah, you’re such a little sweetie, aren’t you?” she cooed, her voice dropping to a whisper. “The hotel manager told me not to feed you, so this is just between us, okay? No more meowing out here in the middle of the night. Got it?”

In answer, the cat flopped onto its back, purring even louder, and Annabelle laughed softly as she scratched its belly, an indulgent smile on her face. “I can tell you’re going to get me in trouble. Just so you know, I’m going to swear it wasn’t me giving you treats. We’ll blame Daniel Ferrera instead, but you have to back me up on this.”

“Won’t work,” Daniel said, a smile twitching his lips even as he wanted to ask her why she’d put the blame on him instead of someone else staying in the hotel. “I’m now a witness to your illicit activities.”

Annabelle jumped to her feet, twisting to face him, and her alarmed and guilty expression nearly made him chuckle. “Oh! Dr. Ferrera. Why are you sneaking up on people in the dark like that? You startled me.”

“My apologies. I didn’t realize it could be considered sneaking since I was walking in full view on the designated path to the front door.”

“Well, it’s almost dark and you should have made more noise.”

“So I wouldn’t hear you plotting against me?”

She folded her arms across her chest and stared him down. “If I did plot against you, it would be tit for tat, wouldn’t it? However, I’m not that kind of person.”

“Uh-huh. No way am I going to be the fall guy if a cacophony of meows wakes up the whole hotel.”

“I was just kidding about blaming you. Even though you blamed me for something that wasn’t my fault. Or at least was only partially my fault. But that’s long over with and I’m going to put it behind me. No plotting against you.”

That knocked the smile off his face because, yeah, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say he was plotting against her, given everything he’d orchestrated to get her services transferred to the other clinic.

“Anyway,” she continued in a stiff and professional voice that had him regretting that their light banter was obviously over, “what’s tomorrow’s surgical schedule?”

“Full day again,” he replied. “We need to get going no later than seven to fit them all in, especially since a couple of the diagnostics we were given aren’t very clear. May find some surprises during surgery that will take longer than we expect.”

“That happens about fifty percent of the time anyway,” she said as she slung the small green backpack over her shoulder that she seemed to carry everywhere.

“True.” Now was the time to tell her about the new plans for her upcoming trip to Huancayo, and he hoped she was perfectly fine with it, not figuring there was anything to it other than helping more people. He drew a breath, only to expel it as he watched her move the backpack strap down to the crook of her elbow, her face scrunching up a little with obvious discomfort as she reached to massage her neck and shoulder. “Is your arm hurting you?”

“I don’t want to say.” Her voice was mulish even as she winced. “Especially to you.”

“Why not?”

“What procedure does our first patient need?” she asked, ignoring his question and dropping her hand from her trapezius muscle. “I want to be ready with everything so we stay on schedule and maybe even catch up a little.”

“Four-year-old has coarctation of the aorta, but I suspect we may find more issues during surgery, as the imaging isn’t very good. Tell me why your arm hurts.”

“I took a swing at an arrogant, holier-than-thou doctor in the States just before leaving there. Very satisfying, but I miscalculated the impact on my own body.”

“Uh-huh. I know you wanted to take a swing at me five years ago, maybe even with a long, sharp knife. But since you didn’t, violence doesn’t seem to be your answer to conflict.” He reached to fold her hand into a fist and tapped it against his chin. “However, if you want to punch me now and get it out of your system, go ahead. I can take it.”

A short laugh, then a scowl, before she yanked her hand back. “No, thanks. That would probably just make you happy in some perverse kind of way, and give you another reason to dislike me or get me fired again. Forget it.”

“Then tell me about your shoulder.” He stepped closer and could smell the faint scent of soap from her shower before dinner. “Or let me guess. You don’t want to tell me that you’re in pain because you wrenched it carrying the monitor I criticized you for.”

Surprised blue eyes lifted to his, her pretty lips parting. “I knew you had superpowers in the operating room, but it’s scary to think you have mind reading powers, too.”

“Simple observation and medical skills. But if I did have mind-reading abilities, what would I be learning?”

“That I don’t like you?”

“Something I already know. What else?”

A long pause had him convinced she’d change the subject, or turn and walk back into the hotel, until she finally spoke on a sigh. “That I sometimes bite off more than I can chew, and hate it so much when I do.” A deep frown lowered over her silky eyebrows. “And I’ve paid for this one multiple times, believe me. First with stressing over all the missed flights, then with not being able to get to a meeting in Lima that I really need to make happen. And I’m still not sure how I’m going to be able to get it rescheduled. Then missing the first day of surgery, which I worried about a lot, even though you probably don’t believe that. On top of that, yeah, I wrenched my shoulder trying to carry the monitor to the OR in a hurry. And the worst thing of all? Letting it show so you can smirk at me about it.”

“I would never smirk at you or anyone else who’s in pain. I’m a doctor, for heaven’s sake.” While he knew all the reasons she didn’t like him, he hadn’t realized she thought he was the kind of colossal jerk who would delight in someone’s pain. “Come here and let me see.”

“What?” She jerked back as he stepped close. “No.”

“You can’t function as well in the OR if your shoulder is stiff and painful. And since it’s important for everyone to be at peak performance during surgeries that last for hours, I’m going to give you a deep-tissue massage that should help.”

“I don’t want or need a massage.” Her expression was more alarmed than a simple shoulder massage should have warranted, displaying a vulnerability at odds with her stern words. “It’s fine. Really. And frankly it’s a bad idea for colleagues to go around touching one another, especially when anyone could be watching.”

“Anyone watching would see it as impersonal physiotherapy done in a very public place, right outside the hotel front door. Are you always so stubborn? Or are you worried that I’m coming on to you? I know that probably happens a lot but, believe me, I have no interest in you other than that you do your best tomorrow during the long hours we have to work.”

“An interest in me other than to ruin my career would never cross my mind, Dr. Ferrera. And the feeling is mutual.”

“Good. So quit arguing and turn around.”

CHAPTER THREE

WHY SHE ALLOWED him to turn her around, then press his fingers deeply into her shoulder muscles, Annabelle had no idea. But even as she told herself it was weird to do this, that she should just turn to head for the hotel doors and disappear to her room before the man started criticizing her again, she found herself standing stock still instead as she absorbed the feel of his hands.

Lord have mercy. Was this why people spent their hard-earned money to get a massage? She couldn’t believe how incredibly good it felt, as though his palms and fingers were magical instruments, kneading and pressing until the tightly knotted muscles began to loosen. His warm breath skimmed her neck as he worked, and it all felt so wonderful, every other thought in her head disappeared, and all worries along with it. Slowly tipping her head from one side to the other, she nearly moaned with the pleasure of those talented surgeon’s hands firmly moving on her neck and over her shoulders, working their way down to press against her spine.