It Happened in Paris...

AVERY STOOD BEHIND a wall of glass to one side of the operating table in the hospital’s cath lab, watching the procedure on the X-ray fluoroscopy viewing monitor. She’d gowned and masked like everyone else in the room, but unlike anyone else, she held a tablet in her hand to record the notes she’d be taking.

“The prosthetic valve is made from cow tissue,” Jack said to the nurses and doctors assisting or observing the procedure, as he and Jessica Bowman, the nurse he’d brought with him from the States, readied the patient. “This version doesn’t require a balloon to open it as the previous one did.”

He continued to explain, as he had last night during his presentation, how a transcatheter aortic valve implantation, TAVI, worked. The details of how the catheter was designed, and why the stent and valve were in an umbrella shape, designed to push the diseased valve aside before the umbrella opened, seating the new valve in its place. With the procedure not yet started, Avery had a moment to watch him instead.

Today, he was all business, his dark eyes serious above his mask, his voice professional and to the point. In stark contrast to yesterday’s amusing and witty companion. As they’d laughed and walked through Paris, his eyes had been perpetually filled with interest and humor, his mouth curved in a smile, his attention on her as much as it had been on the landmarks she’d shown him.

A very dangerous combination, this Dr. Jack Dunbar. So dangerous she’d thrown caution off the top of the Eiffel Tower. Thank heavens they’d agreed that no more hot, knee-melting kisses or spontaneous sex could be allowed.

Though just thinking about those kisses and their all-too-delicious lovemaking made her mouth water for more.

She gave herself a little mental smack. Date a cardiologist? Been there, done that. Twice. Fool me once, shame on me, fool me twice, shame on me again. Fool me three times? Well, her genius status would clearly be in question.

Then there was the other sticky issue. Obviously, the best-case scenario would be for the device to work fabulously, for the trial to be a success and for it to be further rolled out to other countries and hospitals. After all, in the U.S. alone over one hundred thousand people each year were diagnosed with aortic stenosis, and a solid third of them were high risk who might not do well with traditional open-heart surgery or weren’t candidates at all.

But, from studying this stent and catheter, she worried that it didn’t fully address the significant problem of postoperative valve leakage and subsequent pulmonary edema, which her own design had not solved and was something she was trying to fix in her new prototypes.

“I’m going to establish a central venous line through the right internal jugular,” Jack said as he made an incision in the patient’s neck. “Then insert a temporary balloon-tip pacemaker. Both groin areas of the patient have been prepped, and I’ll next insert an introducer sheath into the femoral artery.”

Avery watched as his steady hands worked. After completing the first steps, he made another incision in the patient’s groin, moving the guide wire inside the artery. “Contrast dye, please, and monitor the heparin drip,” he said as he watched his maneuvering of the wires on the overhead screen. “You’ll see that it’s important to puncture the artery with a high degree of angulation to minimize the distance from the artery to the skin.”

The man was an incredibly skilled interventional cardiologist, that was obvious. She quickly focused on the careful notes she was taking to squash thoughts of the man’s many skills he’d thoroughly demonstrated to her yesterday. Why, oh, why, would she have to be around him every day when the whole reason she’d given in to temptation had been because she’d thought she’d never see him again?

Finally, he finished stitching the access sites and the patient had been moved to Recovery. Jack shook hands with all those in the room congratulating him.

“Thank you, but I’m just one cog in this wheel that will hopefully change valve transplantation forever,” Jack said. “One important cog is right here with us. The designer of the first catheter-inserted replacement valve, Dr. Avery Girard.”

Taken off guard, she felt herself blush as Jack turned, gesturing to her with his hand, then actually began to clap, a big smile on his face, as the others in the room joined him. She’d been keeping a low profile, and most of the hospital had just assumed she was a Crilex representative. Most cardiologists she knew—most definitely both of her old boyfriends—loved to play the big shot and preen at any and all accolades. Neither one of them would have shared the glory unless they had to.

“I appreciate your nice words, Dr. Dunbar,” she said, feeling a silly little glow in her chest, despite herself. “I have every hope that the new design you’ve helped develop will be the one that works. Congratulations on your first procedure going smoothly.”

“Thank you.” His warm eyes met hers, reminding her of the way he’d looked at her yesterday, until the doctors observing converged on him to ask questions and he turned his attention to them.

Avery took off her gown, mask and hat, and caught herself watching Jack speak to everyone. Listening to his deep voice and the earnest enthusiasm there. She wanted to stay, to listen longer, but forced herself to move quietly from the room to go through her notes. Limiting her interactions with him to the bare minimum had to be the goal, and since there was just one surgery scheduled today, there was no reason to hang around.

Satisfied that her notes were all readable, in order and entered correctly into her database, Avery walked toward the hotel, feeling oddly restless. She’d planned to work in her room, but a peculiar sense of aloneness came over her. Since when had that ever happened?

Still, the feeling nagged at her, and she stopped to work for a bit at a little café, which seemed like a more appealing choice. After a few hours she headed to her room and settled into a comfy chair with her laptop. Projects on her computer included ideas on how to fix her previous TAVI design if the one Jack had in trial had significant issues.

That unsettled feeling grew, sinking deep into the pit of her stomach, and she realized why.

If she had to recommend the trial be discontinued, would Jack think it was because she wanted Crilex to develop one of her designs instead? That her concerns would be from self-interest instead of concern for the patients?

She’d been doing freelance work ever since abruptly leaving the company that had funded her first TAVI design. They’d insisted on continuing the trials long after the data had been clear that the leakage problems had to be fixed first, which was why she’d been glad to observe this trial before that happened again.

If only she could talk to Jack about it, so he’d never think any of this was underhanded on her part. But her contract with Crilex stated she was to keep that information completely confidential.

She pressed her lips together and tried to concentrate on work. Worrying about the odd situation didn’t solve anything and, after all, Jack knew she’d designed the original. Wouldn’t he assume she was likely working on improvements to it and observing his with that in mind?

She couldn’t tell Jack the power she had over the trial. But maybe she should tell him she had concerns with the design. To give him that heads-up, at least, and maybe nudge him to look for the same issues she would be as the trial continued.

Avery caught herself staring across the room for long minutes. With a sigh she shut the lid of her laptop and gave up. Clearly, she needed something to clear her head. Fresh air and maybe a visit to somewhere she hadn’t been for a while. A place popped into her head, and she decided it was a sign that it might be just what she needed to get back on track.

A half hour later, jostling with others passengers as she stepped off the metro, she saw the sun was perilously low in the sky. She hadn’t torn out the door in record time to miss seeing the Sacré Coeur at sunset and headed in that direction in a near jog, only to bump into the back of some guy who stepped right in front of her.

“Oh, sorry!” she said, steadying herself.

“No, my fault. I’m trying to figure out how to get to the Sacré Coeur to see it at sunset, and I…”

She froze and looked up as the man turned, knowing that, incredible and ridiculous as it was, the man speaking was none other than Jack Dunbar. Saw his eyes widen with the same surprise and disbelief until he laughed and shook his head. “Why is it that whenever I need a tour guide, the best one in Paris shows up to help me?”

Fate. It was clearly fate, and why did it keep throwing her and Jack together? Should she even admit that was exactly where she’d been going? “I wish I had the answers to the universe. But somehow I don’t think you’ll be surprised to learn that’s where I’m headed, too.”

He looked at her a long, serious moment before he gave her a slow smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and the warmth in them put a little flutter in her chest. “You know, somehow I’m not surprised. And who am I to argue with the universe? Guess this means we’re going together.”

A buoyant feeling replaced the odd, unsettled feeling she’d had for hours. Bad idea? Yes. Something she could walk away from? Apparently not.

“Then we’ve got to hurry.” She grabbed his hand, knowing she was throwing caution away again. But how could she say no to the happy excitement bubbling up inside her? And after all, it was just a visit to the Sacré Coeur, right? “The sun’s setting soon, and we don’t want to miss it.”

“Lead on, Ms. Tour Guide. For tonight I’m all yours.”

CHAPTER FOUR

JACK LOOKED AT the adorable woman dragging him through the streets and wondered, not for the first time, how he could have gotten so lucky to have met her before they’d started working together. A personal connection before a professional one got in the way of it.

The professional part was unfortunate, since he’d vowed he’d never again get involved with a woman at work. For just one more night, though, he’d let himself enjoy being with Avery. After all, here they were, together. And, smart or not smart, he just couldn’t resist.

“A lot of people think it’s really old, but did you know the Sacré Coeur was consecrated after World War I in 1919?”

“I didn’t know. Are you proving again to me that female scientists are well versed in many subjects?”

“I don’t have to prove anything about women in science,” she said in a dignified tone, “seeing as I’m not wearing orthopedic shoes.”

He laughed. “True. And they’re even bright green, which I’ve never seen in leather ankle boots.”

“Clearly, you live a sheltered life. Maybe you should get yourself some brightly colored shoes.”

“Somehow, I think my patients would worry about my skills if I dressed that way.” His eyes met her twinkling ones, an even more vivid green than her boots, and just looking at her made him smile. “You get to hide in your lab and behind your computer. I don’t.”

“You could wear them while your patients are under anesthesia.” She had that teasing look in her eyes that he’d found irresistible yesterday when they’d gone up the Eiffel Tower, then spent that magical time in his hotel room. That he’d found irresistible since the moment she’d grabbed his hand and led him to breakfast. That he had to somehow learn to resist, starting again tomorrow.

“Except most of my patients are awake during procedures, so I’ll stick with black or brown.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure?”

“Here with you tonight.”

She looked up at him, an oddly arrested expression on her face. “Mine, too.” She stepped up their pace. “We’re almost there, and since January’s off season, hopefully there won’t be big crowds. Good thing the sun’s peeking through. I think it just might be a beautiful night.”

“It already is.”

A blush filled her cheeks as she realized what he was saying. And maybe it sounded hokey, but he meant it. His intense focus on work usually didn’t allow him to notice things like a beautiful sunset or, though he probably shouldn’t admit it, even a beautiful woman sometimes. But she’d grabbed his attention from the second he’d met her, and he didn’t know what to do about that.

She led him around a corner then suddenly stopped, turning her full attention in front of them. “Voilà! We made it! And, oh, my gosh, I think it’s about the most spectacular I’ve ever seen!”

His gaze followed hers, and the sight was beyond anything he’d expected. At the end of the street behind a beautiful old building with large columns, the Sacré Coeur rose high above everything else. Its numerous cupolas and spires were bathed in pink and gold from the sunset, emerging from the pale sky and looking for all the world like a stunning mural in the mist.

“That’s… incredible.”

“It is, isn’t it?” She took her hand from his, moving it to clutch his arm, holding him closer. He looked down to see her eyes lit with the same wonder he was feeling and that strange sense of connection with her, too, that had prompted yesterday’s memorable interlude. “I haven’t seen the basilica for a long time.”

He moved his arm from her grasp and wrapped it around her shoulders, wanting to feel her next to him. They stood there together a long while, staring as the pastels changed hue and darkened. Eventually, the sun dipped low, taking the color and light with it, and Jack turned to her, pulling her fully into his arms without thinking. “Somehow, I don’t think it would have seemed quite as beautiful if you hadn’t been here with me.”

She smiled and lowered her head to rest her cheek against his chest as she gazed down the street at the now shadowed church, and he couldn’t believe how natural it felt to hold her like this. Like they’d been together a long time instead of one day. Like there weren’t good reasons not to.

He stroked his hand up her back, sliding it beneath her thick hair to cup her neck. “How about we take the funicular up to see the city below?”

She lifted her head and leaned back to look up at him. “How do you know about the funicular?”

“What, you think you have all the dibs on tour guiding?” He tucked her hair under her cute hat, a yellow one this time, letting his fingers linger on the softness of her locks before stroking briefly down her cheeks. “I read a Paris tour guide book because I didn’t know I’d have a personal one tonight.”

“And yet here I am.”

“Yeah. Here you are.”

For a moment her green eyes stared into his until, to his surprise, worry and utter pleasure, she lifted herself up on tiptoe, slipped her arms up his chest and around his neck and pressed her lips to his. The touch was instantly electric, surging through every cell in Jack’s body as he tightened his arms around her. Until he forgot they worked together. Until he forgot they were standing near any number of other sightseers who were snapping photos and admiring the church. On the side of a busy street where cars and motorcycles and scooters veered all too perilously close.

Just as had happened yesterday under that umbrella, Avery managed to make him forget everything but the drugging taste of her mouth as it moved softly on his.

The roar of a scooter zooming by had him breaking the kiss. He leaned his forehead against hers, their little panting breaths creating a mist of steam in the cold air between them. “Wow. That was nice.”

“What, you think you have all the dibs on initiating a kiss?”

He chuckled at her words, mimicking his. “Believe me, I’m more than happy to share the dibs. But as much as I’d like to keep kissing you, I don’t want either of us sent to the hospital by one of the crazy drivers around here.” Or get into a sticky situation because of their jobs. “Let’s go on up to see the view.”

She pulled away and something, maybe embarrassment, flickered in her eyes. He reached for her chin and turned her face to his. “Hey, what’s that look for?”

“I don’t know why I kissed you. Why I keep kissing you, even when we agreed not to.” She shook her head, a little frown between her brows. “It’s like something comes over me and I lose all common sense.”

“If you have to lose your common sense to kiss me, I hope you don’t find it,” he teased, earning a small smile. He took a few steps backward, bringing her with him, until he came up against the wall of a building. Even as he knew he shouldn’t, he lifted his hand to cup her cheek, gently stroking her beautiful lips with his thumb. “You taste damned good to me.”

“Except we need to work together. So kissing or… anything else… isn’t a good idea.”

“I know. It’s a hell of a bad idea.” He kissed her again, and the sigh that slipped from her lips, the way her body relaxed into his nearly had him going deeper, and to hell with the risk of being struck by a car. But he forced himself to let her go, reaching for her hand. “Come on. Your funicular awaits, princess.”

They rode to the top and enjoyed the incredible views of the city as he held her close to shelter her from the colder air and wind. They meandered along the cobbled streets of Montmartre as Avery filled him in on some of the history of the village that had long been a haven for artists, including Picasso, Monet and Van Gogh. Today it attracted young artists who peddled their work on the streets.

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